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htchnr · 5 months

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♰ my heart is a sad affair ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚ PART TWO.

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ shouting ⋆ FEELINGSSSS ⋆ reader smacks the everliving HECK out of Cooper ⋆ he deserved it ⋆ kissing ⋆ mention of a Gulper ⋆ flashback to hunting deer in a forest ⋆ fallout canon violence/descriptions ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

PAIRING ➻ wife!reader x Cooper. (they were married before the war, but both of them believe the other is long dead.)

SUMMARY ➻ you were gonna strangle him when you got your hands on him. after shouting for Ma to come out and cut you loose you were livid. you had found him after all this time, alive, and he leaves like that? he was going to get the slap of the century, and then some. WC ➻ 3,2K.

you were gonna strangle him when you got your hands on him. after shouting for Ma to come out and cut you loose you were livid. you had found him after all this time, alive, and he leaves like that? he was going to get the slap of the century, and then some.

you were thankful now for the tracking or hunting skills he taught you while on vacation in the deep woods so many decades ago, teaching you how to track and hunt wildlife. but now, you'll make him regret it.

"you look for anything," he pauses pointing to some tracks, but also towards some leaves that looked half eaten. "tracks or signs, and try and gauge what direction they came from," he explains, rifle on his back as you two quietly walked through the dense forest.

"seems easy enough," you shrug, glancing around. you'd always been a quick learner, so this was gonna be a piece of cake.

he chuckles, a warm smile on his lips. "we'll see about that sweetheart," he gestures for you to head in front of him. "let's see how you do," he grins, throwing a cheeky wink your way. you snort, shaking your head with a smile as you step in front of him, eyes flitting around you.

though, with the heavy boot prints in the loose sand and dirt it felt too easy. you rolled your shoulder as you walked along the tracks, looking at the different sets of foot prints;

one set that would belong to Vault Dweller, another set which clearly belonged to Wilzig, a heavy limp clear in them (along with blood) — and the last set belonging to Cooper. you also noticed what would be the dog's prints, varying in pace. though, usually beside Cooper's.

the sun was unforgiving, beating down on you violently as you walked. your anger slowly dimmed down as your mind drifts to the memories you tried so hard to forget.

your eyes flit around the forest, looking across bushes, looking through the dirt, anything. but you were surprisingly stumped. you had tracked what seemed to be a deer for a little over half an hour.

you came to a halt and huffed as you roll your shoulders. "okay i give up," you turn around and find Cooper smiling at you with those lovestruck eyes. you laugh at his look, his smile only widens at the sound. "what?" you smile.

he shakes his head, "nothing honey," he walks over and pecks your cheek. "you got us really far, you're really getting the hang of this." he compliments, and steps in front of you to take the lead.

he looks around for a minute, before he taps your hand to get your attention. "see there?" he points to a shrub. "more bite marks," he says, and you huff. he smiles and gestures you to continue in front of him again. "c'mon, i've got the feeling we're getting close."

huh, you cocked your head at the sight before you. Wilzig's body, surrounded by blood, and missing his head. you swallowed, would Cooper have done this? or did the girl do it to lighten her load?

you hoped Cooper didn't do this, yet you also doubted the Vault Dweller would have the stomach for something like this. you look around, eyes meeting the tracks of the girl, then Cooper's along with the dog's. well, you sighed, let's keep this show on the road.

you missed Roosevelt now more than ever, his gentle patter beside you as he followed you around. he used to love following you around while you did chores around the house — laid beside you while you ironed clothes, politely sat out of the way while you vacuumed. his favorite thing was to run around the yard while you hung up your laundry outside.

your heart ached for your fluffy companion, you missed him so much. you wondered if Cooper missed him too, or more so how much.

Cooper and Roosevelt were inseparable, when Cooper was home Roosevelt rarely left his side. and when Cooper was away, Roosevelt never left yours, almost as if Cooper told him to guard you.

the thought made you smile, sighing as you walked along the trail of steps. you hated this fucking wasteland and it's violently cruel sun.

the lush surroundings a upcoming Hollywood Boulevard were a nice change of pace, it was good to see that while some areas were completely infertile and dead, other areas absolutely thrived.

the tracks showed slight panic on the Vault Dwellers side, quick dashes and marks where it looked like she had slipped or fallen. Cooper's were calm and collected as ever, and the dog's jumped around all over the place, before evening out beside Cooper again.

you walked along the waters edge, keeping a close eye on the lake beside you. you had heard stories of huge things jumping out, and being caught by something while this close to Cooper was not on your to-do list today.

you were close to them, you could tell by the depth and freshness of the prints. you let put a shaky breath, your original frustration bubbling up to the surface again. your hands shook a little beside you. you had some time to think of what you were going to say, but now that you were nearing them your brain was drawing blanks.

"honey look!" Cooper whispered, pulling you down behind a tree, pointing into the distance. you followed his finger, eyes landing on a deer grazing fifteen or twenty feet from you two.

your eyes lit up, "hey i did it!" you whispered excitedly. Cooper grinned, rubbing a warm hand across your lower back in a form of 'i'm proud'. and he was damn proud, it took him much longer the first time he went hunting.

"well," he takes ahold of his rifle, handing it to you. you grab it from him, positioning it the way he taught you. "breathe in and out," he muttered, his hand not leaving your lower back. he looked over your shoulder, seeing how you were aiming. "and well, you know what to do," he smiles.

you smile at his words and the warm hand inching towards your waist. you take a deep breath, looking down the sight as you aimed, your finger wrapping around the trigger. you exhaled slowly, and squeezed the cold trigger, letting your shot fly.

the sound of panicked shouting snapped you out of the memory, eyes snapping towards what looked to be an old dock. you swing your rifle off your back and hold it tight, stepping through the overgrown environment and closer towards the yelling.

the closer you got, the more clear the voice became, "i lost it! okay i lost it!" the Vault Dweller shouted, fear and exhaustion clear in her voice.

you neared the edge of the forest, the rest beyond flattening into a open space by the water. you could see the Vault Dweller and Cooper clearly now, as well as the dog who barked at the water with vigor. Cooper had is gun aimed no more than a few inches from the Vault Dweller's face.

the dog suddenly snapped it's head up, snout pointing directly to where you were. well, you thought, it was a matter of time.

Cooper looked at the dog, who had completely stopped barking now. the girl didn't turn to look at the dog, seizing the opportunity to kick Cooper's legs out from under him and shoot up and away from him, her gun now pointed at him.

"you better get that gun out of his face, girl, or you'll regret it."

Cooper's head spun around, wide eyes looking around. a small wave of 'oh shit' washing over him. the Vault Dweller turned to face you, eyes widening. "you, from back in Filly," she spoke, her voice sounding a little out of breath.

"what'd i say?" you cocked your rifle, "get that gun out of his face." anger boiling back up at the sight of him on the ground. he deserved that kick.

the girl blinked, reluctantly holstering her gun and stepping away from Cooper. your rifle remained aimed at him though, as you stepped closer to him. Cooper blinked, an awkward smile on his lips. "hey, fancy seein' you 'round here-" the thud of the butt of your rifle against his temple interrupting him. "fuckin' hell!" he shouted, a hand coming up to cradle his head. he looked up at you, and eyeing the rage in your eyes. "okay i deserved that,"

the Vault Dweller watched the exchange from a short distance, standing beside the dog who had returned it's attention to the water.

"get the fuck up." you seethed, rifle still aimed at his scarred head. Cooper inhaled, slowly getting up, then standing before you. you only swung your rifle over your shoulder once he stood at his full height, dark eyes watching your every move.

his lips parted to speak, but you beat him to it with a smack that rang through the overgrown area. Cooper’s head reeling back at the force. he blinked widely for a moment before turning his head back to face you.

the Vault Dweller watched with her lips parted as you had smacked him, the sound sending a jolt through her. who the hell were you that he let you do this? if it were her she'd be dead as soon as she began to raise her hand.

you raised your hand again, this time jabbing a finger into his leather clad chest. "Cooper Franklin Howard, what the fuck were you thinking?!" you shouted at him, wild eyes staring into his gaunt ones. "fucking tying me up? are you out of your goddamn mind?!" Cooper looked pained, he regretted tying you up then, but even more so now.

he looked down a little, and you grabbed his chin and forced him to look at you. "what the fuck was one of our vows, huh?" your voice cracked a little at the volume. you let go of his thickly scarred chin to yank him down to your level by the lapels of his duster. "where you go, i go, Cowpoke!" you yelled at him, tears started to well up in your eyes.

Cooper swallowed, eyes flitting across your face. his heart ached at the thought of the wedding, the vows said and the love shared. it hurt.

you shook him by his lapels once more, "i don't care where the fuck you go, but unless you're dead i'm there with you!" your voice starting to falter as tears slide down your cheeks. oh how he hated to see you cry, it cracked his broken heart into even more pieces.

you stood there for a second, wet eyes watching his as you could just barely see tears starting to prick at his as well. you watched him closely as he pulled off his thick leather gloves and dropped them, calloused and scarred hands coming up to cover yours. Cooper visibly shuddered once his bare hands met your painfully soft ones.

the Vault Dweller silently watches, eyes wide as she sees the emotional love in Cooper's eyes. what the fuck happened to the terrifying ghoul that was about to shoot her?

your breath hitched as he held your hands, eyes flitting down to them. they looked exactly like the skin on his face, an angry red, completely blistered and scarred over. you looked at all his features, his gaunt eyes, his thinned lips, yellow teeth. and the blaringly obvious, his missing nose.

"oh Cooper," you rasped, your voice aching from the yelling. you pulled a hand free from his and pressed it against the scarred cheek you had smacked. he didn't flinch as you gently rubbed your thumb across his cheek. he whispered your name as though it hurt to say, a tear finally rolling down his skin.

you reach your other hand up, holding both sides of his face as you pull him down and press your lips against his. Cooper tries to step back a little, taken by surprise, but your hold on his face doesn't let him move far. it takes him a second, as if he thinks this is a dream, before his reaches one hand to hold your face and the other to pull you closer by your waist.

the Vault Dweller watches with slight disgust, but also with a small thought of awe.

you finally let go against him, tears rolling freely down your cheeks and wetting his as you cry against into the kiss. although he looks different and feels different, the waves of comfort and safety feel exactly the same as they always have as he holds you tight.

you reluctantly pull away, looking up at him with teary eyes. you press one last kiss against his lips before fully pulling away, his hand holding yours as if he can't let go. "what on earth did you get yourself into cowboy?" you sigh sadly, your hand returning to his cheek.

Cooper shakes his head, "you don't wanna know," he replies, the sigh palpable.

the Vault Dweller blinks as the dog starts barking like crazy again, "uh guys, i'd hate to interrupt this shockingly sweet moment but i think the Gulper's coming back!" she panics, looking at her pipboy as you hear the tell tale geiger counter sound picking up immensely.

Cooper looks back to you, hand on his gun. "you still remember what i taught you?" he asks, unholstering his gun.

you roll your eyes with a smile, "i'll make you wish i'd forgotten," as you swing your rifle off your shoulder, ready for a fight.

you'd have a long talk once you were in a somewhat safe shelter later..

TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x

#⋆୨🩷©2024 htchnr #⋆୨⭐️cooper howard #cooper howard x fem!reader #cooper howard oneshot #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul oneshot #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul fallout #walton goggins #walton ghoulgins

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bunnys-kisses · 1 month

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hullo bunny!! i’d love to order peanut butter bars and champagne with lewis hamilton!! please and thank you <3

bakery menu

want to submit your own order?? hit up the menu for more information! everything you need should be there, i love receiving requests so please, send em my way! i even have new items on the menu for your choosing! (been a busy baker!). as for this order, thank you for submitting, lovely anon! i hope you enjoy and thank you!

also check out the master-list!

peanut butter bars (“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.”) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by lewis hamilton (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, biting/hickies, lewis in love

it was the sight of you in one of lewis' t-shirts that made something bubble to the surface. it was an old t-shirt, the honest lewis thought he threw out.

but there you were eating breakfast at the kitchen island, the way you sat let the shirt right up a little bit more. lewis got a sight of the softness underneath.

and that was how lewis knew he was fucked.

the sight of you in his clothes stuck with him for the few days afterwards. when he sat in the kitchen he thought about it. when he was at the gym, it was on his mind. he wondered if you'd wear his jewellery very casually or the cost of it scare you off. he wondered if you'd wear his more expensive clothes.

you often shied away from things that were too lavish. you were probably the least expensive sugar baby on the planet. most would've easily pocketed his expensive belongings on top of their payments. but you one time got all flustered because lewis suggested that you got a better (read: more expensive) cut of meat from the grocery store.

but the entire thing spoke to something deeper. the lingering feelings he had for you. he knew of your little arrangement. while not a sex worker, you went with him to events and cheered him on at the track. you were almost a live-in girlfriend, but mostly a beauty to hang around him.

but he yearned for something deeper. he wanted to be your one and only. he mostly got that fix through sexual intimacy, while not part of the agreement. it was hard to deny the attraction between you two.

it only made sense in the end

“scratch me, bite me, just mark me sweetheart. show them I’m yours.” lewis groaned as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he rubbed himself up against you before he captured your lips.

he hated being desperate, but there was something about you that made something thrum inside of him. the engine of his soul was revving up at the feeling of closeness.

you giggled and held him by the back of the head to make him look at you. you smiled, his chin was on your chest as those dark eyes looked up at you. it felt so out of character, the often cool lewis hamilton was starting to get riled up.

you cupped his face with both hands and smiled, "lewis. do you like me?" you said in an almost flirty tone.

he swallowed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you as close as you could get. he tried to compose himself as he said, "you've been on my mind for days now... i think you've made me lost it. i've never been like this with anyone else."

you chuckled lightly, trying not to show the shock across your features. you could feel the tightness in your chest. you replied, "you're a bad sugar daddy, hamilton."

he shifted up towards and leaned in for a hot kiss. his lips square with yours as he held you close to him. he replied, "then i'll have to be a better lover."

you rubbed up against him, his hardened cock poked against your stomach. you replied, "good, i'm in need of a good one." before you kissed him once more.

his hands then worked to get your bra off, followed by pushing your panties down in a feverish rush. he groaned a little bit into the kiss. this was real. you both finally crossed the line after toeing it for so long.

soon you were both naked and lewis braced his hands on either side of you. he looked down at you and he licked his lips. you reached for him and playfully dragged your perfectly manicured nails across his tattooed chest.

he exhaled deeply and swallowed. his bare cock twitched at the feeling. he said, "yeah, you mark me. i'll mark you? how about you wear some of my rings. and you can claw up my back."

you blushed a little, "aren't they expensive."

"i'd pay more to have your teeth marks tattooed onto me." he replied, only half joking. he watched your squirm and almost cover your face. he chuckled and leaned in closer to you. he inhaled your scent and felt his cock grow painfully hard. he needed the sweet release of his precious angel's cunt.

"you're insane." you giggled. flowering at the attention, you always did. you were a sucker for him. at very few points in your life did you feel like the center of someone's world. but lewis was different, the light he carried for you.

it was only a matter of time before the dam came down. he took you by the hips and leaned back on his heels. he admired the feeling of your thighs in his hands. the right amount of softness under his palms.

he laughed a little, "you feel so good. i'm sorry i couldn't be your sugar daddy. i hope you don't run off and find another." he pulled you closer to him, his cock almost touching your slit.

you blushed, "don't worry. every other man just feels.... mediocre compared to you." then tensed up a little when he teased your pussy with his cock.

he felt the tug in his chest at your words. it had been boiling under the surface for so long. to have it out in the open made him feel more alive than ever. but he was careful about having sex with you.

he slowly slotted himself into you, and his hands braced on either side of you once more. you held onto his shoulders once more. being so close to him this way was nothing new. but it still left a flutter in your chest.

you kissed once more, you dug your nails into his back as he started to rock his hips. his pace wasn't painful, he wanted to indulge in the feeling of you. while you both had your fair share of quickies, in the comfort of his nice home, you had all the time in the world,

the sound of your kisses mixed with the small squeaks of the bed. you felt protected in your lover's arms. his kisses felt like lightning in your body, it was a heavenly feeling. only topped off by the pleasure coursing through your body. it felt good, really good.

lewis was a generous lover, that was why he ended up bedding so many before you. you squirmed a little from the heat that pooled in your gut with each of his heavy thrusts.

he savoured you like a fine wine. like dishes served at restaurants on the beach in rich capital cities. he moved against you at an even pace, but even that was making your toes curl.

"please, lewis." you panted as you held onto him. chest to chest.

he rutted against you, his hips rolled in a steady pace. the constant throb between your legs made you pant with want. and he in turn kissed along your jaw. soft lips against your skin.

"you like that don't you?" he asked quietly, "like the feeling of me against you. not the first time and it won't be a last time. not even close." he voice was tinged with affection.

"i love it." you panted, "shit. you always know how to make me feel good." you swallowed back the pleasure as you felt it course through you.

"pretty girl." he purred, "but you know that. we make quite the pair, i have the photos to prove it."

you got flustered under his words as the two of you move against one another. you felt hot all over with the sweat especially down your back, getting caught by the white sheets under you.

lewis' pace started to stagger and he felt the lust course through him. he quickly finished, his cum was pushed as far as it could get. the thought made him shudder, it aroused his greatly. he panted heavily, but he started to play with your clit as he continued to rut his cock into you. it greatly overstimulated him, but he was determined to make you cum.

you held onto him, your head against his shoulder as you tensed up. you moaned loudly into his heated skin and arched your back a little from the pleasure. you came and almost kicked out your legs from the intensity.

you both relaxed, with lewis pulling you to him as he laid on his side. his nose was against your neck as he started to come down. you two held one another, embraced in your warmth on top of the covers.

"i guess i broke the number one rule of sugar daddies." lewis chuckled a little.

"that's alright. i'm pretty sure it would have happened eventually. the money is nice, but i genuinely care about you."

he pulled away to kiss you on the lips. he said, "good, because i care about you too. now." he held you close to him, chest to chest, "would you like to go again or do you want to get something to eat?"

you replied as you got out of his grasp and straddled his lap. you splayed your hands across his toned chest. you said, "well, i don't think it's much of a choice is it."

he smiled, "that's what i like to hear." <3

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froggibus · 2 years

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Seeing Their Pact Mark For The First Time - Obey Me! Brothers

Summary: how they react to seeing their pact mark for the first time

CW: branding, marking, general possessiveness? suggestive (Lucifer’s and Asmo’s), jealousy (Levi’s)

more obey me content!! i am down bad for MAMMON rn so that’s what brought this about lol. also some happier content (thank god)

————

Lucifer

his is on the back of your neck

usually it’s hidden under your hair or the collar of your shirt so no one really sees it

lucifer is curious about it but doesn’t really care to ask

honestly he got really busy after the pact was formed and forgot all about it

you’re late for school one day and rushing to get ready in the bathroom when Lucifer walks by

you have your head down looking for something and he sees it on the back of your neck

literally stops in his tracks and does a double take

“so that’s where it is.”

jumpscare

he asks to see it again

has you sit down in front of him so he can play with your hair and rub his fingers across the mark

he loves that there’s a vow on your body binding you to him that only he can see

unless he gets jealous and “accidentally” uncovers it in front of someone

(also unrelated but imagine giving him head in a position where he can see it—him holding you by the pact mark and guiding you along his length)

Mammon

it’s on your back where your heart would be

you know what it means but you don’t want to tell Mammon about it

he would probably just make fun of you anyways

one day he comes to see you after school, and forgets to knock

unfortunately for both of you, you’re in the process of changing into your pyjamas

he walks in right as you take your shirt off, and he’s greeted by your back and the golden mark that resides there

definitely screams and hides his face in his arm

“w-why are you naked??”

“why didn’t you knock?!”

you finish putting on your shirt and lay down on your bed, stomach first

“mammon, you can open your eyes now”

he awkwardly does, relief washing over him when he sees that you’re fully clothed

“so what did you need?”

“was that my pact mark on your back?”

you agree and then ask if he wants to see it

he does but insists it’s just to see what it looks like (no other reason)

you lift the back of your shirt up and continue laying down on your stomach

Mammon feels really emotional looking at it

his pact mark, on his human?

he traces the outline of it, in awe of how it looks on your skin

neither of you say anything for a while, you just lay there contentedly while he runs his fingers over the mark over and over again

Levi

his is on your left thigh, just below where your underwear sit

what better placement for the Avatar of Envy?

you couldn’t find it at first, but you could feel it

when you did finally find the orange mark on your leg, you knew that Levi would implode if he ever found it

Levi sees you showing his brothers their pact marks and gets a little a lot jealous

doesn’t confront you about it tho and instead decides to go pout in his room about it

when you come in to check on him, he’s a little cold with you

“cmon leviachan, talk to me. what’s got you so upset?”

you have to listen to a five minute self deprecation spiral before he even tells you why he’s upset

“levi…you know that if you wanted to see your mark, all you had to do was ask, right?”

he’s a little embarrassed about it now but with some gentle coaxing you manage to calm him down enough and get him to sit on the bed across from you

when you start unbuttoning your pants, his face burns

“OMG y/n, w-what are you doing?”

“calm down, Levi…just, look, okay?”

you tug your pants down to your knees and stretch out your left leg so that he can see the orange mark

“open your eyes, Levi, it’s just my underwear”

Levi wants to argue that it’s not just your underwear but he shuts up when he opens his eyes and sees the mark

it’s on your thigh of all places???

if people thought he was a pervert before, what would they think of him now??

“Levi,” you say, trying to bring him back to reality

when that doesn’t work, you grab his hand and place it over your thigh

his hands are warm compared to your cold skin and it grounds you both

“are you better now?”

he nods slowly, unable to look at you while his hand is on your bare thigh

Satan

his is on the left side of your rib cage

it’s just hidden enough that even if you wear crop tops, he wouldn’t be able to see it

he definitely went around asking his brothers where theirs was in order to process of elimination where it is

he doesn’t want you to just tell him

he feels like he should be able to know/guess where it is just based on the connection

probably overworks himself trying to figure it out

finally, after a few nights of detective work and little sleep, you force him to lay in his bed

“I’m going to show you where it is, and in return, you’re going to actually get some sleep”

he begrudgingly agrees, propping his head up on the headboard to watch you

you straddle his hips and slowly strip your shirt off, adjusting so that he can see the green mark of wrath

his mouth goes dry seeing it

he definitely didn’t consider that it would be there of all places

reaches out and brushes his fingers across it

“is it everything you hoped for” you joke

but it really is everything he hoped for

Asmo

its below your belly button, stopping just above your pubic bone

it’s kinda the perfect spot for him too

a cute little pink swirl leading to your precious parts

Asmo likes to giggle and speculate where it shows up

honestly he hopes a little that it ends up over your heart, but he won’t be disappointed otherwise

loves to tease you about the mark too

one day you’ve had enough of his teasing and speculation though

“I’m putting this to rest, Asmo,” and you take him to your room and make him sit on his knees in front of you

you roll up your shirt and he can see just the beginnings of it under your belly button

then you unbutton your pants and roll them down to your thighs so he can see the rest of it

his eyes are practically glowing when he sees it

“it’s so pretty!!” he gushes

asks if he can touch it and you agree, gasping when his perfectly manicured fingers brush across your mark

presses a kiss to it and leaves a glob of sparkly lipstick behind

begs you to let him take a picture of it to keep (and may or may not set it as his Home Screen)

also expect him to be admiring it and touching it anytime he sees it

Beel

his showed up just above your belly button

he always wondered where it was but never thought to ask

if you wanted to show him, you would…right?

eventually gives in to his impulses and asks you directly

“y/n…” bro is sweating buckets

you’re genuinely worried something is wrong by how serious he is at first

“what’s up?”

“I just wanted to know…where’s my pact mark?”

you’re honestly relieved it wasn’t anything too serious

“follow me”

you bring him into your room and close the door behind him

honestly Beel starts to worry where it is

when you slowly peel off your t-shirt, he covers his eyes and his cheeks flush

you have to pry his hand off of his eyes to even get him to look

“beel—calm down. it’s on my stomach.”

he’s breathless when he sees the swirling red mark

asks if he can touch and you nod eagerly

his touch is gentle, calloused fingers smoothing over your skin

you’re not sure what prompts you to ask, but suddenly you’re looking up at him through your lashes and asking “do you like it?”

Beel doesn’t even know what to respond to that

of course he likes it

it’s a mark that ties the two of you together

instead of answering, he chooses to press a soft kiss to the centre of your mark

Belphie

belphie’s is a tramp stamp

it’s on your lower back, right on the spot where your t-shirt always rides up while you sleep

you’re half convinced that it only showed up there as a joke

Belphie never really cared much to see it either

like he always saw his brothers asking and fawning over theirs but he just…didn’t care

he always felt a bit of a disconnect regarding your pact tbh

he comes home early from school one day to take a nap and sees you already sleeping on the couch

you’re curled up in a ball, your face shoved in the cushions

and your shirt is twisted and has started to ride up as you move in your sleep

he sees the mark and his first thought is “y/n has a tattoo?”

he moves closer to see what it is and as soon as he realizes it’s his pact mark he almost falls over

it’s there of all places?

because of fucking course it is

he kinda just sits on the floor next to you for a while admiring it while you sleep

until he notices you’re shivering and feels like he has to do something about it

slowly pulls down your shirt over the mark he loves so much and lays his jacket on top of you

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sleepy-steve · 2 months

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@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask.

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map.

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans.

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste.

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process.

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

#BETTER LATE THAN NEVER LMAO #i wrote most of this while sleep deprived and hungover so like. if you see a typo. no you didn't <3 #saying everything except the things they want to say my beloved #cira writes #cira writes steddieangstyaugust #steddieangstyaugust #sobbing sunday #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 month

Text

The Return of Superman- Mark

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, a child duh)

Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.

There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.

Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.

However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.

Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."

He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."

The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.

Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.

"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's son’s room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.

Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.

One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"

The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.

His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.

"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.

"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.

"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.

His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"

Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'

The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"

Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"

He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"

Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"

His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"

Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."

The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.

It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.

He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.

"I want Mama," his son cries.

"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"

His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."

"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.

"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."

His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"

Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"

This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.

The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #dad!nct #tros-nct

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

Note

Ok ok hear me out I have a different idea now after reading your phone sex blurb

What about after Eddie comes back from his tour they're out with friends and some other girl is chatting him up, trying to rub up on him in front of reader. And she wants to stake her claim but she can't because he's not hers, not technically; and he isn't into the other girl's attention because he just wants reader, but he can't be too earnest about that bc it'll scare her off.

Do I want them to grind on the dancefloor or have sex in the bathroom? Yeah maybe

foreword: more roommate!Eddie x reader filth. secret situationship fucking at a party style. ty anon <3

wc: 1.8k

cw: secret FWB, Reader with breasts + vagina, femme pet names used, fingering (R receiving), the return of Eddie Cums-In-His-Pants Munson, wee bit angsty, lots of hidden longing

____

This party is the most sound your apartment has ever heard- speakers thrumming bass lines through the floorboards, drunken friends’ laughter echoing off walls.

You and Eddie planned ahead, started plotting weeks ago to bribe various neighbors in the building to avoid catching a noise complaint- scratch brownies for the floor below, some pre-rolls handed off across the hall, party invites extended to whoever was in earshot.

Informal karaoke kicked off around midnight, as the room rose in heat from extra bodies and alcoholic flush; Robin and Steve are bringing down the house on the other side of the bathroom door, charming the crowd with a belligerently intoxicated rendition of a Beastie Boys hit.

Eddie’s got you pressed against the sink, your ass to the unforgiving marble of the counter while he teases his teeth over the skin of your neck.

“No marks,” you whisper, fist seizing up at the root of his hair, tugging. He stifles a moan into your skin while you continue to tell him off, voice just under the protective layer of music. “It’s bad enough there’s only one bathroom in this place. Someone’s bound to notice we’re both gone-”

Eddie suddenly drops to his knees, nosing at the strip of skin above your jeans that he lifts your shirt to reveal. Your breath stutters, and he grins before popping the button with his teeth, chocolate eyes eclipsed by the black-lust of his pupils.

“No one’s gonna hear you, ‘cuz you’re not gonna make a sound. Got it?”

The gush of arousal that meets Eddie’s fingers is invitation enough. You rock into his hand, and he angles his fingers up- you take two of them like a dream, as if your cunt had just been waiting to be filled by those long, dexterous digits, cold rings quickly warming to the skin-temperature of your thighs.

“That’s it,” Eddie mumbles, never more mouthy than when he’s face to face with his favorite pastime. And then, as if reading your mind- “Been waitin’ for me all night, hm? Poor thing. So wet…”

Outside, the song rises into a fast guitar solo bridge, quickening along with your breaths. Hoping there’s enough sound barrier, you brace yourself with one hand on the counter while the other buries itself into the heat of Eddie’s scalp.

Soft, dark curls slip between your knuckles, your thumb brushing gently under the layer of bangs to touch the bare skin of his forehead. It’s too tender, too endearing for what the moment calls, in direct contrast with the way Eddie’s plunging into you, the insistent, budging slope of his nose near the pounding apex of your thighs.

“Becca’s gonna notice.” Your thumb tracks a path to Eddie’s temple, so now you’re just cradling his head as he fingers you into oblivion. “You know- ah- Becca? The girl from down the hall that you invited, specially?”

If it wasn’t for the public setting, you’d take more time to calculate which buttons of Eddie’s to push; as it stands, you’re sort of flailing around in the dark, hitting random ones and seeing what lights up.

Seems to do the trick, though- in one fluid motion, Eddie shoves your jeans the rest of the way down and takes one of your knees over his shoulders, giving himself enough room between your legs to dip forward and latch onto on your clit.

His plush lips suck, fervently, in time with the rhythm of his curled fingers, managing to hit into that gummy spot that buckles your knees.

“Well Becca- isn’t- here, right now,” Eddie says, around lapping mouthfuls of you, hand on your hip near-bruising with the force it takes to keep you upright. “Besides, she invited herself.”

“I dunno… you seemed pretty excited to see her.” The muscles of your abdomen clench, then release, your head tipping backwards to thunk against the mirror.

There’s an arch in your spine, now, enough space for Eddie’s hand to migrate from your hip to low back, pulling you more insistently onto his tongue and fingers.

In response, the spot behind your navel tightens again, pleasure swelling with the music. It’s irritating that Eddie thinks you’ll drop the subject in favor of an orgasm, so you aim for another button, lashes fluttering at the ceiling, voice stretched thin as your resolve- “She gonna stay the night? Use the same bathroom you’ve finger-banged some other b-”

The wet, hot pressure on your clit disappears, a whine of protest crawling from your throat before Eddie can smother it with his palm. Luckily, the living room speakers are kind of shitty, crackling with feedback as the song reaches fever pitch volume.

Eddie’s fingers still within you, stretching to depths that make your eyes roll back as he rises to cover the length of your body with his own. His hand is big and warm over the lower half of your face, breath an angry huff by your ear as he growls, low- “It’s probably in your best interest to not finish that sentence.”

It’s some consolation that you have the option to bite. Tempting as that is, you let your glare speak for itself, brows knitting together as Eddie draws back to look at you.

There’s a bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw, disappearing into the curls he’s let loose for the night. The eyeliner you’d carefully applied for him pre-party is blurred from the humidity and exertion, a rosy flush in his cheeks to match.

Eddie crowds your vision, close enough for you to note the tiny freckle under his left eye twitch, and for a moment, everything is just him- all you can see, hear, touch, smell, dopamine flooding in a head spin of hormones that respond despite your best efforts to tamp them down.

The background noise fades away, and it’s just you and Eddie, panting and straining against the other. A squelch, as he adds a third finger, your breasts pushing into the solid expanse of his chest as you squirm up, mindlessly seeking release.

“Be good and come ‘fore this song is over,” he’s saying, thick fingers scissoring, your resounding moan stifled by his palm. “Then I’ll kick everyone out and let you come again.”

It’s the promise of another that undoes you, thighs shaking with the growing wave, lashes tickling Eddie’s knuckles as your eyes slam shut.

He keeps all the points of pressure that you need, plus more- hips pinning the frenetic rolls of your torso, tips of his fingers coaxing bright spasms from the channel of your cunt, forehead pressed like an anchor to your own as your body sings.

The whole time, he’s talking you through it, deep timbre just for your ears with rasping praise and encouragement. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart, that’s it. That’s it. Good. Let it all out. S’just me here, yeah? Just you and me. Fuck…”

By the time your hearing returns, Eddie’s dotting soothing kisses up the curve of your neck, apparently trusting you enough to let his hand drop from your mouth. You take a few deep, shuddering breaths, hand still buried in Eddie’s hair like a lifeline.

He doesn’t seem to mind, taking his sweet time pulling out of you, disentangling himself with lingering touches to any remaining bare skin.

While he tugs your shirt back into place, you turn to face the mirror, smoothing over flyaways and making sure you look somewhat presentable. You let Eddie’s hands roam as your heart rate stutters, working itself back down to normal while he refixes the button of your jeans.

His chin settles on your shoulder, arms twining around your middle; you let him take some of your weight, relaxing into his hold, eyes catching his in the mirror as you ask, quietly, “You want me to wingman for you? She seems nice. And it’s never a bad idea to sleep with someone who lives in your building.”

Eddie snorts, your dry attempt at a joke working wonders, grin on its way to devastating greeting your reflection. “You seriously think I’m the one who needs help? After the time I just showed ya?”

“Well based on my limited data-” your hips grind backwards without warning, and Eddie stiffens, smile slipping from his face as your own wicked grin takes over- “-I’d say you’re the one who came in his pants just from touching me.”

You wriggle in his arms to turn around, noses bumping, lips hovering in a not-quite-kiss as you whisper, “Say please and I’ll run and get you some new pants. Hand-delivered.”

Even with the wall of party noise, there’s a distinctive click as Eddie’s jaw ticks. He acquiesces, though, stopping somewhere just shy of grateful to grit out, “Please.”

You hum, pleased and thoughtful, leaning out of his space to lift a brow- “I think Becca’s into blue-collared boys.”

This fact, you’re basing off the one time you saw a UPS guy at your neighbor’s door. Sounds a lot better if you act like you know what you’re talking about, though, as if the list of things you know about Becca is longer than black hair and occasionally receives packages.

Distance, safety, one and the same, even though what your body begs for is to get closer, to soak all your senses in Eddie again. You wind a particularly pretty curl of his around your index finger. “Those khakis you wore once to Robin’s grad party and then never again- bottom drawer?”

When Eddie nods, he fixes you with a glare, nostrils flaring like he’s about to tell you off.

Before he can, though, you’ve wriggled from his grasp, reaching for the door handle with strict, hissy instructions about locking it after you’re gone and only opening for your special knock.

He obeys, deadbolt sliding into place, door swallowing the noise of the party in your absence.

It’s just Eddie now, leaning into hands over the sink, breathing hard like he hasn’t already blown a load three minutes ago.

The entire length of his middle fingers shimmer in the light, still coated with your arousal.

Eddie’s mouth waters. He thinks about you; how for a second, you were the only thing on his mind, how rare that is, for him to be so singularly focused.

Then he thinks about Becca. And stupid tight fucking dress pants.

The sink water gushes to a start as he jerks the handle on, sudsy hand soap scrubbing away at the smell of you, carrying it down the drain.

By the time you’re back, dreaded pants in hand, Eddie’s fixed an easy smile on his face, bickering at the ready. Almost normal, and certainly familiar.

It’s just simpler to keep some distance. Close quarters aside.

#lu’s anons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie x reader #mdni #eddie munson x you

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ordowrites · 1 month

Text

kissing you

cw: very suggestive themes, slight yan content with wanderer, self indulgent, overall fluff, afab!reader in some parts (overall, gn! terms used, reader wears make up/dress), terrible flirting. minors dni, mdni. user has a vision.

characters: kaeya, diluc, wanderer, arlecchino, al-haitham

kaeya has been staring at your lips for awhile now - as you talk about something that you ran into while out doing some sort of investigation. it's starting to make you nervous, the way he remains silent, bent down, his eye on your lips and his head tilted to the side.

"captain? are you listening to me? this this hilichurl camp set up nearby and -"

"yes, yes." kaeya says with a wave of his hand. "i'll have some of my people get on it." he pauses now, leaning in closer. you can smell his cologne. "say, did you get a new shade of lipstick?"

"i-uh, yes?"

"hmm." he gently cups your chin with his fingers, tilting his head to the side as he gently kisses you. "aw, it's not flavored this time."

all you can do is stutter before he bends in to kiss you again.

the fall night is warm, you're warm as you wrap your arms around his as the pair of you exit the manor for the night - the party goers dispersing and it's time for you to head home as well. the abundance of wealth diluc has always surprises you, on top of all his connections. he tells you about something, maybe it's another compliment in the list of all the creative ways he tells you how much he loves you, you're not sure but you're tired.

"shall i accompany you home tonight, my love?" diluc asks as he helps you into your carriage. "you are certainly more than welcome to also stay the night."

"ah, but we certainly cannot have rumors flying around just yet." you say with a tired giggle. playing hard to get is one of your favorite things to do - he seems to enjoy the chase some, at least.

"then," he gently takes your hand into his gloved one, those red eyes that always look into your soul and beyond, look into your own, as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand. "get home safe, okay? if you encounter any trouble, do not hesitate to return."

you smile, taking your hand back and bend down (silently delighting into the new height advantage the carriage gives you) and kiss him on the cheek.

"have a lovely night, diluc." yet it takes one more kiss to pull you out of the carriage and back into his manor.

he is irritated, agitated more like, with his pacing back and forth. you sigh and watch him, legs crossed and elbows resting on your thighs. you're getting dizzy at this point, but his frustration is honestly really funny.

all that had to happen was someone complimenting you today and he loses his mind. the entire day, he's been sulking and pouting and grumbling.

"hat guy," you call to him, gently. "are you okay?"

he stops in his tracks, staring dead in your eyes. "no," he grumbles. "i am not." you huff a laugh and shake your head. it's like you blink and he's blocking your view of well - the rest of the living room. you're not exactly sure what's happening, but your shirt is being pulled down and his lips are pressing against the tender skin at the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.

and he bites. you yelp a bit, but he doesn't pull away until there is a bright red mark there.

"you're mine, don't forget that."

"you never let me forget." you grumble as he pushes you down, his teeth sinking into more of your neck.

you are wholly naked after getting out of the bath, and sitting between arlecchino's legs, on her bed, as she brushes your hair. she admires every inch of you, on a daily basis. whenever you ask about her doing your hair, she simply tells you that she enjoys it and should she not pamper her loved one? so you always drop the subject and lean into this momentary peace in her chaotic life. the candle flickers some, its flame casting a gentle glow in the bedroom.

a clawed hand rests on your thigh and you peek at the full length mirror, she's set the brush down.

warmth blossoms through you as she kisses the back of your neck, trailing kisses down along your spine until she reaches midback. after a moment, she's tugging at your hair, forcing you to lean your head back as she kisses you on the lips.

"you're very beautiful." she murmurs.

"you tell me that often." you tell her with a little giggle. she hums softly.

"not often enough." she declares, her hand reaching for the brush again. "i believe i should praise you more. you are a good girl, after all." your face reddens at that and she looks even more pleased. another kiss is pressed to the side of your neck before she resumes her previous task.

you talk too much, al-haitham has told you many times - you like to visit him in his office at lunch every day, just to ramble on and on. you like to think he's listening, but with his eyes always glued on his book, you're never sure. but that never stops you (nor does it ever stop kaveh, the poor man sometimes stresses himself out over his roommates indifference). oh, you do this to annoy him most of the time, but lately, it's just scheduled and expected.

"and can you believe-"

your words are cut off when his lips meet yours, your eyes widen when he pulls away. you're stunned as you sit down on the comfortable couch, trying to comprehend what just happened.

"do you hear that?" he asks you after a moment.

"no. what should i be hearing?"

"the sound of sweet silence." al-haitham finally answers, and you finally look at him, while his eyes are glued to the book, he has a smug look to his face. oh this asshole.

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k3n-dyll · 9 months

Text

Kingpin!Sevika

||Men, minors, and ageless DNI

CW: Dom!Sevika, sub!reader, Sevika is mean, degradation, free use kinda,squirting, cunnilingus (r! receiving), face fucking (S!receiving), fingering, AFAB reader, pussy slaps, aftercare, she loves you but won't say it

A/N: I just had some thoughts I needed to get out, this was meant to just be a few headcanons but it got a little long

Word count: 1,494 Divider creds. Masterlist

kingpin!Sevika who's taken Silco's place after his untimely death. In need of a right hand of her own, she chose you

kingpin!Sevika who- though, of course, chose you because you're capable, loyal, and trustworthy -just as she had been to Silco- also has a few...personal reasons as to why she made this decision.

You're a tough girl and she is well aware of that. She acknowledges it quite often, always telling you how well you do with the missions she leaves you in charge of. From someone like Sevika, that praise is a lot, and though frequent, it comes in small packaging. Short, sweet remarks that may seem like nothing to anyone else

"Y'did good." "Keep it up."

Or even just a head nod or pat on the back or shoulder to show that she approves of what you've done. It's the ultimate sign that she respects you.

kingpin!Sevika who would keep you by her side 24/7, 365 if she was able to. When you aren't out doing an assignment, a good amount of your workdays are spent in her office, either standing beside her as she sits lazily in the large chair behind her desk, as she uses you as a second pair of ears and eyes while she meets with the other chembarons - or, simply discussing future plans.

kingpin!Sevika whose sharp, silver eyes track your every movement at the end of the day when you're finally alone with her. Watching you fidget with the little nicknacks on her desk as you report back the events of the day, not making full eye contact with her because you know what's coming. There aren't many other reasons she'd have locked her office door completely after letting you in, it isn't like anyone had the gall to barge in unannounced.

"Strip" she'd mutter, fully interrupting whatever you were telling her because, at this point, she's more annoyed at the fact that you're still dressed than she is at some of the cargo being compromised due to the negligence of her blockhead henchmen - she'll take care of that later.

kingpin!Sevika who isn't one for talking about it once you do as you're told because of course you do, shedding yourself of the fabric that shields your body from her intense gaze, giving her a bit of a show because she'd scold you if you rushed.

kingpin!Sevika who can't seem to go a full five seconds without marking you once you're propped up on her leg, naked except for your underwear. She especially loves leaving marks on your tits, biting and sucking on the fat around your nipple, leaving as many pretty little bruises on your skin as she pleases with no real regard for how intense the feeling may be for you

As much as she likes making you feel good, this is about what she wants. She's had a stressful, rage-inducing day and this is the part of your job that she loves just as much as you do. The part where she gets to take out all her frustrations on your body. She's always rough with you, never giving you a second to catch your breath, and though one would think you'd be used to this treatment by now, it takes you by surprise every time. Her strong hands feel like they're everywhere at once, grabbing at your ass, your waist, your thighs, your tits - anywhere she can hold you to keep you close.

kingpin!Sevika who gets impatient with her own teasing rather quickly, a breathy, "fuck this" escaping her thick lips, because she needs to see and touch all of you. Using her mechanical arm to swat at the contents of her desk, allowing the paperwork, the merchandise, and whatever else is up there at the moment to crash to the floor below because it doesn't matter right now. None of it is you. She forces you up onto the surface of her desk, wasting no time in getting your panties off of you, kissing down the length of your body as she lightly presses a finger to your pussy, starting at your leaking hole - a low chuckle leaving her as she feels you begin to clench around nothing- then trailing up your pretty folds until she makes contact with your already swollen clit. The way you squirm and twitch underneath her is enough for her to let out a groan, not giving you much warning before two of her thick fingers plunge inside of you.

"Shut it" she murmurs against your skin when you whine at the sudden fullness, and you're so good to her that you actually try - and fail - to keep quiet. Sevika doesn't actually expect you to succeed, but she loves watching you struggle to obey, sliding her fingers in and out of your drooling cunt at a faster pace the harder you try. "Such a fucking slut, look at that..." she pulls her slick-coated fingers out of you, the emptiness making you whimper. Ever the sadist, she hears this and just like that her mechanical hand squeezes onto your thigh, keeping you in place as her real one lifts up slightly, the palm of her hand coming back into contact with your pussy with a smack. "I said keep that fucking trap shut." In the end, though, it doesn't really matter what you do - biting your lip, clenching your teeth, hell, trying to cover your mouth with your hand - it doesn't work.

kingpin!Sevika who would overstimulate you until you were a mumbling, babbling, drooling little mess, ignoring the aching in between her own thighs and fucking into you with her fingers, rubbing the pad of her thumb over your clit with each hard thrust. After you've sufficiently begged her enough through your ragged breathing and incoherent words, she'll even let you have her mouth, flattening the pink muscle and dragging it up your slit before latching her soft lips to your sensitive bud, sucking on it. Your body jerks forward at the feeling, your hands knotting into her short black locks as your thighs press to the sides of her head. Despite how sensitive she's made you, you can't stop yourself from grinding yourself into her mouth, desperate for yet another release.

kingpin!Sevika who will force you by your pretty hair down off of the desk and onto your knees in front of her, peeling her own jeans and underwear off of her body, unable to take waiting anymore. She's not giving you much of a chance to recover from all the overstimulation, nor is she even going to let you go at your own pace. No. If there's one thing this woman loves doing its gathering all your hair up into her hand and pushing your face into her dripping cunt, rutting herself onto your tongue as you keep it out and flattened for her as instructed.

"You like when I fuck that slutty face of yours, yeah?" she'd cut you off before you got the chance to even try to answer, not that she'd even understand whatever muffled words youd attempt anyways. "Yeah you do, pretty girl - fuck - take it, baby, just like that..."

kingpin!Sevika who's a squirter for sure. You aren't coming back up from your knees without being fucking drenched in her juices and she loves every second of it. An even more cruel part of her wants to push your head to the ground and force you to lick up whatever you missed off of the floor, but she settles for making you clean it up off of her inner thighs, pulling you up for a hot, hard kiss when you're done.

kingpin!Sevika who literally will not let you leave her office until you're all cleaned up and taken care of. In stark contrast to how rough she was with you a moment ago, she'd treat you like a fragile little thing once it's all said and done. You aren't allowed to clean yourself off, no. that's her job. She's not letting you put your own clothes on, not without any help at least. And as much as she may threaten to "make sure you can't walk out of this office properly" she will hold you in her lap until you've somewhat regained your balance.

"You okay?" is likely the most you'd get out of her in terms of sweet words, verbal affection isn't really her forte, but her actions always show that she cares more than she lets on.

It's like this every time, Sevika gently rubbing your aching muscles and pressing gentle kisses into your skin as you come down from the intensity of it all, but she won't talk. Sometimes she even gets back to work while you recover, but she never asks you to leave. She doesn't want you to leave and both of you know that, but you've both decided that it's better left unsaid.

#lesbian #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika smut #wlw #sevika #arcane #I think about her too much #☆kennie's works

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cloudzoro · 2 months

Text

Secret | Portgas D. Ace x reader x Trafalgar Law ♡

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genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 2.4k

cw: fem!reader, soft-ish dom!ace, inexperienced law, oral (male and female recieving), threesome, double pentration, overstimulation, a lot of cum, canon divergence obv

masterlist | one piece masterlist

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A/N: Ace and Law haven't met in canon so this is an au where Ace survives marineford and has met Law multiple times via Luffy. In this story they just end up docked on the same island.

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You’re initially shocked when Ace tells you Trafalgar Law has shown up at your hotel room door, red in the face, and asking him for sex advice. Law is a doctor and a few years older than Ace. Ace should be the one going to him for advice. It does provide Ace with an ego boost, so you're not surprised he immediately accepts and invites Law inside.

Law waits patiently in Ace's room and is shocked when he returns with you. You're in your underwear, and the sight almost causes Law's eyes to pop out of his head. You know he's heard about men in bars who look at you funny and end up with second-degree burns. Ace is notoriously protective of his girl. Ace asks if Law's up for some practical learning, and Law immediately says yes, unable to take his eyes off you. Law doesn't usually listen to authority, but he's got a golden opportunity in front of him that he won't waste.

“Baby”, Ace calls to get your attention. He pulls you into a deep kiss, which Law watches with interest. “Give Law a kiss. Make sure he can at least do that”, he instructs.

Law immediately gets defensive, yelling at Ace about how he's not incompetent and that he just wants advice on how to be better. You cut off his defence by knocking his hat off of his head and pinning him down on the bed. You lean down to kiss him and Law instantly kisses you back, needing to prove himself to your cocky boyfriend. Ace sits next to you and watches as Law pushes his tongue in your mouth and you grind down against his hardening cock.

You moan into the kiss, and it gives Law a boost of confidence. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you to turn you both over and hover over you. He grinds down between your legs and reaches down to grab at your panties. He's stopped in his tracks by Ace patting his shoulder.

“You're going too fast, buddy. You gotta play with her a little bit. You gotta work her up to it.” Says Ace, squeezing one of your tits through the cup of your bra. You miss your boyfriend's warm hand as soon as it leaves you, but you know you'll have him soon, so you decide to lay back and soak up Law's affection.

Law drops his head down to your neck and presses wet, opened-mouth kisses to your skin. He's initially irritated when he hears Ace tell him not to leave any marks on you, but you are Ace's girlfriend and not his, so he obeys for now. He trails his mouth down the curve of your tits, licking and kissing at the exposed skin spilling out of the lace.

“Can I take this off?” is the first thing Law has said to you so far outside of giving you his consent. You look up at Ace to check that he's okay with this going any further despite him being the person to suggest the arrangement, and he gives you the all-clear. With permission from both you and Ace, he reaches around to your arched back. Law, however, struggles with fully unclipping your bra so Ace reaches a hand down to help. Law grumbles something about Ace being a show-off as he pulls your bra away and tosses it somewhere behind him.

With your boobs now fully exposed to him, Law attaches his lips to one nipple, suckling it while he plays with the other one. He smirks against your skin when you whimper at the feeling of his mouth. He alternates between your boobs with his mouth and hands. He's so invested in your boobs that he almost forgets Ace is in the room with you until he speaks up.

“Are you a tits guy, Law?”

“Stupid question. Of course, I'm a tits guy. Who isn't?” He hums against you, not ready to pull away yet and tugs a nipple between his teeth. You're so responsive to everything he's doing that he feels blessed to have been given an opportunity like this. Every time you whine or twitch beneath him, he becomes more and more confident.

Ace is getting impatient. You can feel him fidgeting beside you. You know he thinks Law is cute - he's mentioned it before - and the prominent bulge in his shorts is proof he's enjoying the show. You use the hand that isn't tangled in Law's hair to grab Ace's hand and suck two of his fingers into your mouth. Seeing your pretty lips wrapped around his fingers is enough to make Ace snap. He swats your hand away from Law's hair and replaces it with his own, yanking Law's hair back to look at him.

“Lay back with your feet off the bed.” Ace's voice is thick with need, and his switch in demeanour is intimidating. Law’s not about to mess up a chance with you, so he listens to Ace and lays back. Ace instructs you to take off your underwear as he pulls you up from the bed. He places a sweet kiss on your lips, a quick flater in his dominant persona. Your boyfriend is a sap, but he enjoys taking control. Law sits up and watches intently as you kiss. “Sit on his face while you suck my cock.”

You climb on top of Law, who happily accepts and reaches up to grip your thighs and pull you down flush to his face.

“The key to eating pussy is to pay attention. When you find something that makes her moan, keep doing it”, says Ace as Law's tongue slides over your pussy. Ace redirects his attention to you as he walks around to the other side of the bed. He grabs a handful of your hair and pulls your face so you're at eye-level with his crotch. You waste no time in unzipping his shorts and pulling his cock free from his underwear. You're eager as you take Ace's cock into your mouth. He lets out a deep moan; he knows you like it when he's vocal, and he'd never deny you hearing his sounds of pleasure. You get into a pretty good rhythm around Ace's cock, looking up at him as he throws his head back at the feeling. Your rhythm is disturbed by Law when he flicks his tongue against your clit in a way that has you jolting forward with a whine.

Law grips you tighter and suctions his mouth around your clit, which makes you moan around Ace's cock again. The vibration of your throat kicks off Ace’s orgasm, and you do your best to swallow what you can while Law is eating you out. Law's tongue has you shaking above him. Law himself never anticipated being this good at oral, but he's got you barrelling into an orgasm with little to no effort. He continues to lick you through your orgasm, cleaning up every drop until you are separated by Ace again.

“Did that feel good, baby?” he asks despite already knowing the answer. You nod as he pulls you into another kiss and away from Law. When you pull away, he lets you lie down to breathe and recover from your intense orgasm properly. Law, who's adjusted himself to lay alongside you, rubs soothing circles onto your skin as you calm down. The steady feeling of Law's hands on your skin and Ace staring at your body has you shifting in your spot. You're still needy and ready to keep going.

Ace has had time to recover from his orgasm, and he's hard again. He pats Law on the shoulder and points to his clothes.

“It's up to you if you want to take your clothes off, but look at how restless she is. She's desperate for cock.” Says Ace as he removes his shorts and underwear entirely. Law follows suit, eager to get his cock buried inside you. While Law is getting undressed, Ace manoeuvres you to straddle him and helps you sink on his cock. Ace is average in length, but his cock is so thick you always struggle with the stretch. He coos pretty words at you and litters kisses over your skin in the hope you'll relax a little bit, and his cock can slip further inside you.

Law watches with interest as you struggle to take your boyfriend. He wonders if you'll even be able to take them both simultaneously. You brace your hands on Ace's freckled chest as you finally sink down on him fully. There's a breath of silence between the two of you as you adjust. Ace whispers something about you feeling like heaven, but you're not following along; you're too busy trying to focus. You're already stuffed full, and you already feel your mind clouding in pleasure. You're always so sensitive, and Ace is obsessed with you. You feel another pair of hands grip your waist from behind, and then a hand slides down your back to your shoulders. You're pushed down so you're face to face with Ace.

“Is this where you want me?” asks Law, finger circling your asshole. You nod, and Ace laughs. He doesn't mind sharing you, but nobody else will ever get to feel your perfect pussy wrapped around them.

“She loves having her hole stretched, but make sure you prep my pretty girl first.”

Law wants to make a sarcastic remark at the slightly condescending tone of Ace, but he's about to fuck your ass, so he bites his tongue. Ace's hand reaches the bedside table, and he pats around before handing Law a bottle of lube. He squirts a little bit over your hole, and you whine at the cold, which amuses both men. Law spreads the lube with his finger before pushing it into your hole. You moan at the intrusion, and Law takes that as a sign to continue. He adds another finger and continues to fuck you open and ready for him.

Ace isn't faring well, panting in your ear about how much he needs to fuck up into you. You feel so good, and he's reaching the end of his rope. He bares it for you, though, wanting you to be comfortable. You distract yourself by messily kissing your boyfriend.

Once Law is satisfied, he drops the lube down to the bed and pushes the tip of his cock into your asshole. His cock isn't as thick as Ace's, but it still stretches you out. He slowly starts to bottom out. You're moaning and writhing, close to tears, by the time both men are inside you. The sensation of being totally and utterly full has you cumming already. You shake and whine between them as they attempt to calm you down. You bury your face in Ace's neck as you grip him impossibly tight. Your pussy is frantically clenching down on Ace, and both he and Law are at the edge too.

Once you've calmed from your orgasm, you give them permission to move, which makes both men smile at each other over your shoulder. You've never felt anything like this before. Tears spill down your cheeks as you're completely overcome with pleasure. Your stomach flutters with the need for more. Law slides his hand into your hair and pulls you more upright, asking you to arch a little for him. Now that your face is no longer buried in your Ace's neck, he can get a good look at your facial expression, and his thrust seems to gain force.

“She's crying,” he tells Law, who also picks up the pace to match him. “You're so good for us, baby”, he coos at you. He asks you how you feel, and you can't answer with anything more than a desperate moan and a nod.

“Has she ever been this full?” asks Law, reaching hand around to play with your clit.

“Not without toys, but she's enjoying this. Bet it feels so good she'd even take another in her mouth,” he teases, sliding his fingers into your mouth, which you try your best to suck on while you're being absolutely railed.

Your vocabulary only consists of cries of their names and the word more. Ace has seen you like this before, and knows you will come soon. Law, on the other hand, has never reduced a woman to this state and is in complete awe of you.

It only takes a few strokes more before you're screaming out their names, body tensing and shaking, as your orgasm crashes into you like a freight train. Law is next to cum, holding your hips in an iron grip as he fills you up.

Once Law has pulled out and moved to the side, Ace jolts up and forwards in a dominant show of strength, repositioning you on your back and pushing your knees to your chest. He fucks into your overly sensitive pussy, chasing his orgasm. Law's cum leaks onto sheets below you as Ace fucks you into a fourth mind-shattering orgasm. He kisses the tears that spill onto your cheeks and tells you how close he is. When he cums he pushes his mouth against yours, clashing in a desperate kiss. You moan as he empties himself inside of you. You barely even register the way he's groaning your name as he does so. He finally pulls out when he feels you're ready for it and inspects you. You don't have it in you to feel embarrassed as Ace watches his cum drip out of you and mix with Law's.

Law had gotten dressed while you and Ace were distracted, and he's now returned to your bedside. Law doesn't speak as Ace walks him through the basics of aftercare. He's silent as he watches Ace calm you down and clean you up. Once Ace has you changed into one of the shirts - that he never wears - and fast asleep with a bottle of water next to you, he walks Law to the door. Suddenly, Law's expression gets serious as he turns to leave.

“If you utter a word of this to anyone, I'll kill you,” Law says. He's trying to look intimidating, but there's a blush dusted across his cheeks.

“Don't worry, Doc. This can be our little secret.”

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This was a request for @beachaddict48 !!!

thank you so much for reading!

taglist: @bloodfixnd @sarcasticambiguity

taglist is open, pls just let me know if you want the general taglist or character specific!

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#one piece smut #one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ace x reader #ace smut #law smut #trafalgar law smut #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace smut #fem!reader

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months

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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you.

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants…

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6.

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you.

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain…

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen.

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you.

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it.

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call.

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant.

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen… “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

#ikea writes 💚#captain john price #john price x reader #price x you #husband john price #cod fic #cod modern warfare #captain price #task force 141 #masterlist #cod smut

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squiddy-god · 3 months

Text

Dorm leaders s/O bad period

This is another re upload, honestly, I think this is really funny because I just got off of my period and I wanted to die actually, because it was so bad

CW : period stuff, slightly suggestive joke on malleus and Leona, fluff, established relationship, at this point, they have all kind of tried to kill us, this is the least they can know. Kalim is the exception- no pronouns gn! Reader

Riddle

He saw the slight red stain and had 0 clue what it was so he just marches up and informs you you are breaking the rules by having a stain on your pants

Instant regret when he sees the pure panic in your eyes

He thought it was him until you explain

Instantly gives his uniform blazer and walks you to the mirrors so you can change at ram shackle

Apologises a lot for almost giving you a heart attack

Poor boy really had no clue

9/10 caused a heart attack but helped

Riddle us very concerned when he sees you puking and passing out from the intensity of your period

He just wants the best for you so he definitely has pain killers on hand

He's a bit stiff and awkward but he is definitely much more lenient during bad periods

9/10 awkward and stiff but a great help

Leona

He could smell the blood but thought nothing of it (🥺submissive and breadable?)

Then he saw you and the tell-tale red stain.

For all my slander he's a somewhat good boy, after all he dose immediately go help you

Drags you off and tells you discretely, before helping you to the dorm

This will happen much less with Leona because he can pretty much tell before you get your period

When he knows your about to start he stocks up on snacks

He knows how bad it gets for you so he's pretty much giveing you a free pass to laze about with him and sleep for a week

If you get cramps he has Ruggie get a heating pad lmao

10/10 pretty good honestly

Azul

At first he thought it was ink- no no don't laugh he's serious! He also sometimes had/has issues with this kind of thing as a kid and assumed that it was that

Immediately tells you about the "ink stain" and hands over his blazer to tie around your waist

The moment you say it's your period his mind is in overdrive

After this first incident azul is,,, prepared

Has spare pants on hand, marks down your cycle, and always has a spare pad/tampon pt.1

Most of the animal like boys will either smell or sense that it's about to happen, azul can just tell, but he also keeps track

This man 💀

Infinite cuddles, you feel awful and bad and in pain? Here lay down with him for a second while he holds a heat pad against your back and Coos at you

Best for snacks, has all the snacks

Also brews pain relief potions to mix with tea so you can relax

10918637/10 ask and you shall receive. the price? Kisses.

Kalim

No thoughts not a single thought when he sees the stain, he tells you because he's nice and your his s/O

Gos "oh" when you say it's your period. Then panics a bit

Definitely takes you back to scarabia and gets you a change of clothing

Kalim is very sweet to be around the entire time!

He loves you and will do literally anything just ask

It's comfy and warm in scarabia, he makes his bed into a pillowy blanket nest and feeds you fresh fruit and snacks

102884/10 holds your hair back when you puke

Vil

Immediately knows what happened and tells you right away

Gets you to the dorm and let's you change so you can feel comfortable

Vil could spot a stain from a mile away so chances are only he saw it

Pt 2 of has spare pants, marks down cycle, and always has products on hand.

Vil is nothing if not prepared for this!

Ok when it gets bad and you find it hard to stand and sit due to pain vil calls you over and lays you down on you stomach to rub your back

Magic hands

His back massages are god sent and blessed by the 7 stg they make the pain melt and your back jelly

Herbal tea and remedies of any kind are in hand

Looking miserable in the halls and about to throw up? Look no further just drink what he gives you and pain goes away

19377/10 magic hands and magic potions to treat you right

idia

Idia is better than one would expect

Chances are he either catches it before you leave his room or its ortho, who catches it in the halls

Either way, you will be informed immediately and taken to change.

Ortho always seems to have stuff on hand. What you need, whether it's some sort of pain relief or an extra pad ortho has it!

This is because idia made sure that if he couldn't handle it you would at least not be fighting alone

Lets you spend your time during this to sleep in his room and do "online school"

Don't mention this suspicious lack of work during this time

Totally not because idia did it for you so that you could rest

Idia has always got snacks and if you're craving something, he doesn't have then he will brave the outside world and go get some from the vending machine

9/10 flustered but a good boy none the less

Malleus

Smells it pt2 (submissive and breadable 🥺 pt2)

Malleus is instantly awhere of the situation and will quietly inform you before doing away with it using magic

Malleus can tell long before you that you are about to start and he's very good about telling you so you are prepared

If you do happen to bleed through he will hide it with magic before getting you a change of clothing

Who needs a heating pad when you have a dragon

Seriously, he's so warm. He just radiates body heat

You could honestly just snuggle up to him and it would be like having a hot water bottle

Definitely feeds you any snacks you want

The moment you feel nauseous sparkles of green light float around you and then boom, no more sickness

12/10 personal heater go brrrrrrr

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kissedsuns · 2 months

Text

sweetheart of the circuit, oscar piastri.

cw: mentions of smut, driver!reader, kissing, swearing.

on one particularly scorching afternoon in bahrain, the drivers are lined up and ready for the season-opening bahrain grand prix, there’s a surprise twist. your contract signing wasn't widely announced, and very few know about you joining aston martin alongside fernando alonso.

as the drivers wait by their cars, you're getting suited up, preparing to join the others for the 2024 season photoshoot.

oscar piastri, feeling the pressure of an exciting season for him and mclaren, is unusually tense. he’s hoping this year will be their breakthrough.

when the photoshoot begins, oscar's attention is drawn to a girl in fireproof overalls next to aston martin. he raises an eyebrow, wondering if you're a new staff member. but as you step in the camera's view and join the other drivers, the surprise is evident.

jaws drop, and eyes almost fly out of their sockets. george russell exclaims, "holy shit, mate,"

only max verstappen remains unfazed, offering a small smile and nod. you grin, making your way over to alonso, who greets you with a knowing smile. you notice carlos giving alonso a nudge, but you remain focused on the camera in front.

"can we please shift our attention towards the cameras, boys?" one photographer says, breaking the silence. the drivers quickly adjust, and once the photoshoot is over, they relax and start chatting.

playful whistles come your way as george russell, lando norris, carlos sainz, alex albon, and others gesture for you to join them.

"hi, boys!" you greet with a cheerful smile.

"god, you're a pretty sight," lando blurts out, only to be playfully smacked by russell.

taken aback, you giggle, making the boys’ gazes soften. "aww, thank you!" you coo, ignoring the flirty undertone of lando's words.

lando's cheeks turn pink, and he mutters, "god, her voice is hot."

"it's nice to meet you all," you say, extending your hand to shake theirs with a soft smile.

"i'm oscar," he introduces himself, shaking your hand delicately.

"oh! oscar piastri, it's so good to finally see you in the flesh," you exclaim excitedly. before you can chat more, the other drivers grab your hand in turn.

"hey, i'm next—" russell says, shaking your hand as lando follows. they introduce themselves eagerly, their voices overlapping.

"aw, you're all so sweet," you say, your voice as sweet as honey. "i wish i could stay and chat longer, but alonso and i have to head back to the team. see ya, boys!" you flash a toothy smile, your dimples showing as you wave goodbye and exit the track with alonso at your side.

"god, she's gorgeous," russell murmurs as he watches you leave.

"and that voice," lando adds.

"you both are so desperate it's almost embarrassing," alex laughs, watching their reactions.

"can you really blame us?" russell mutters, his eyes following you as lando continues to gaze after you, his attention focused on your departing figure.

as the drivers disperse, you and alonso head back to the aston martin garage. the day is bustling with pre-race activities. back in the garage, alonso gives you a quick rundown of what to expect during the race weekend.

"the first race is always the hardest," alonso says. "but remember, you're here for a reason. trust in your abilities and the team."

his words boost your confidence, and you thank him before heading to a meeting. the room is filled with engineers, strategists, and your team managers. alonso occasionally leans over to explain some finer points, easing your nerves. the meeting ends with a clear strategy in place, and you feel more confident about the race ahead.

as the evening wears on, you find yourself wandering the paddock, the sun setting and casting a warm glow over the bahrain international circuit. a gentle breeze rustles through your hair, and you take a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

this is where you belong, and you're ready to make your mark in the world of f1.

meanwhile, in the paddock, the boys are still buzzing about your presence. george shakes his head with a grin. "i still can't believe we have a female driver on the grid. and she's with aston martin, no less!"

lando chuckles. "and she's pretty too. makes me wish we had her in mclaren."

oscar stays quiet, but a slight blush on his cheeks gives away his thoughts. carlos nudges him playfully. "hey, oscar, you alright? soundin' real quiet there, mate."

oscar tries to play it cool, shrugging. "i'm just, um, thinking about how quali is going to pan out."

"right," lando teases. "because you just get so red thinking about that, right, osc?"

you head back to the team garage, reviewing track layouts and discussing strategies with your engineer.

the nerves from earlier had settled into a quiet resolve. you adjusted your helmet, checked your gear one last time, and with a nod to your team, you headed towards your car.

the first practice session unfolded smoothly under the bahrain night sky. as the cars roared onto the track, you navigated the circuit with precision, gradually building up speed and familiarising yourself with the car.

the team radio crackled with feedback from your engineers, discussing minor tweaks to optimise your performance.

commentators noted the controlled approach from you, the new aston martin driver, highlighting your steady lap times and smooth handling.

"she's holding back a bit," remarked martin brundle, "but that's to be expected in the first practice session. there's definitely more to come from her."

spectators and fellow drivers alike watched closely, curious to see how you would fare against the competition. the commentary team didn't shy away from emphasising the significance of your presence, mentioning your historic debut and speculating on the impact you could have in qualifying and beyond.

"keep an eye on her," another commentator enthused. "she's got the determination. qualifying could be where she really shines, and i wouldn't want to be in the shoes of her rivals right now."

as the two practice sessions concluded, you return to the garage, the feedback from the team positive but focused on refining setups for qualifying.

after a quick debrief with the team, you exit the garage and make your way to the paddock. you pull out your phone and see a flurry of notifications flooding your feed. fan edits, posts, and fanpages highlight your performance and even comment on how you managed to avoid the dreaded helmet hair.

scrolling through the comments, you chuckle at some of the reactions. "wtf ???? how did she avoid the infamous helmet hair." one post reads, accompanied by a close-up photo of you with your helmet off, your hair surprisingly intact.

immersed in reading all the sweet, supportive comments on your feed, you hardly notice the figures in the background, watching intently as you smile at your phone while sitting on a nearby bench in the paddock.

"she's fucking fast," lando comments.

"yeah, absolutely," daniel agrees. "and in an aston martin? i shouldn’t say this, but it's not the quickest car out there, yet she's making it look like a redbull."

a sense of nervousness settles in some of the other drivers' stomachs as they observe you. george, carlos, and oscar, in particular, are struck by how composed you were during the sessions, causing them to feel a twinge of anxiety about your performance for the next day.

they quickly snap out of their daze when they see alonso emerge from the team hub, calling out your name.

he gives you a pat on the shoulder, complimenting your driving before hurrying off to where his car is parked.

you get up from the bench and head towards the paddock exit, deciding to follow suit.

as you reach your car, you're surprised to find oscar slowly making his way towards his own vehicle nearby.

he looks up, a faint smile forming as he spots you. "hey," he says warmly, his steps slowing as he approaches.

"hi, oscar," you reply, "nice car," you add, nodding towards his sleek machine. "must be fun to drive."

oscar chuckles softly. "thanks. it's not too bad," he admits, a hint of shyness in his voice. "but yours looks pretty cool too."

you beam at the compliment, genuinely pleased. "aw, thanks! i love how it handles," you say, stepping closer to your car and leaning against it casually. "i guess we both have good taste, hey?"

"yeah, i guess so," oscar agrees, his smile widening. he pauses for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "you were really impressive out there today," he continues, his tone earnest. "the way you handled those corners—it was impressive."

"you weren’t too bad yourself," you say, looking down at your shoes as they scuff against the concrete.

oscar is taken aback. he never imagined you'd get shy, especially considering your bubbly and upbeat personality throughout the day.

"i should probably head off now," you say, breaking the moment reluctantly. "long day tomorrow."

"yeah, me too," oscar nods, his gaze lingering on you.

"thanks, oscar," you smile. "goodnight."

"goodnight." he echoes, watching as you turn and head inside your car. he stays rooted to the spot for a moment, a faint blush on his face, before he unlocks his car door and climbs in.

the next day rolls around fairly quickly. you manage to crawl out of your bed and get yourself mentally prepared for the very first qualifying session of the season.

as you make your way to the paddock, the atmosphere is charged with energy. the final practice session, while crucial for final adjustments, pales in comparison to the exhilaration and nerves that come with qualifying.

reporters are quick to swarm around you, eager to capture your thoughts on how prepared you feel for your first qualifying session of the season. cameras flash and microphones thrust towards you, but despite the heightened pressure, you maintain a composed attitude.

"over here!" you hear a voice squeak in your direction. "how do you feel about aston martin competing with the top teams? they haven't had to worry about your team much before, but with your speed in the previous practice sessions, should they be concerned now?"

"it's really exciting for us at aston martin. the top teams have always set the bar high, but we're focused on our own performance and doing our best. we want to keep pushing and see where that takes us." you respond, meeting the reporter's gaze with a grin.

fans call out to you for autographs and selfies. you take a few moments to interact with them, signing hats and taking pictures. with your kind and approachable attitude, it was easy enough to win over even more supporters.

as the crowd starts to thin out, you begin making your way toward the garage. the atmosphere is still buzzing with excitement, but you're in your own world, focusing on the task ahead.

as you round a corner, you nearly bump into lando, carlos, and george, who are standing together, chatting away.

"hey, look who it is," lando says with a playful grin. "the rising star of aston martin."

"yeah, i think we might have to start worrying about you," george adds, giving you a friendly wink.

"naww, c'mon now. i'm just excited to get out there." you reply cheerfully, your voice carrying that genuine sweetness that seems to disarm them.

"see ya, pretty thing," lando smirks, tugging george along with carlos trailing behind, who gives you a small nod.

with that, you flash them a polite smile and continue on your way, completely unaware of the flirtatious undertone of their comments.

you enter the garage, where the atmosphere is a hive of activity with engineers and mechanics bustling around. you see fernando alonso across the garage, and he waves you over.

"hey there," fernando greets you with a gentle smile. "how are you feeling?"

"a bit nervous, but mostly excited," you admit, trying to focus on the task ahead.

"good. that's normal. just remember what you're here to do." he advises, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

his words boost your confidence, and you thank him before heading over to your station.

you begin gearing up, slipping into your fireproof race suit with the aston martin logo embroidered on it. you pull on your balaclava, ensuring it's secure, and then reach for your helmet.

your engineer approaches, holding a tablet with the final adjustments and strategy for the session.

"okay, we’ve made some tweaks based on the data from the last practice. just a few minor adjustments to optimise your performance," he explains, showing you the details.

"got it," you nod, absorbing the information. you appreciate the team's effort and feel ready to give it your all.

with everything in place, you make your way to the car. the sleek machine glistens under the garage lights, ready to be unleashed on the track.

you slide into the cockpit, feeling the familiar, snug fit of the seat.

your heart pounds with anticipation as the team secures you in place, and you perform one final check on the car's systems.

"radio check," your engineer’s voice crackles through the headset.

"loud and clear," you respond.

"alright, let's do this. remember, smooth and steady. we're here to gather some data and refine our strategy. i don't want to see any risky moves."

you hum in agreement, gripping the steering wheel. the car rolls forward, and you exit the garage, ready to take on the track.

the world narrows down to the tarmac ahead, your focus razor-sharp as you accelerate down the pit lane.

you manage to get third in the placings, and as you drive back to the garage, your team is filling your ears with positive feedback. alonso gives you a pat on the back, and the team members cheer and clap, celebrating your impressive result.

"that was amazing," one of the engineers says. "you're going to crush it in qualifying."

"keep this momentum going," alonso adds. "you're showing everyone why you belong here."

you felt giddy with the way in which everyone was praising you, and hope that it would feel even more special if qualifying went well too.

as you lift your helmet and rip off your balaclava, you notice oscar piastri pass by the garage entrance. he spots you and gives a small wave.

you usually greet everyone with a bright, toothy smile, but with oscar, you can't help but feel a little different. your smile is softer, and you quickly look away, focusing on removing your gear.

oscar notices your change in demeanour and his little smile widens slightly before he continues on his way.

alonso catches your little interaction with oscar. his eyes narrow slightly, and he tries to bite back a smirk that's tugging on his lips.

as the sun dipped lower over the bahrain circuit, the atmosphere among the male drivers waiting for qualifying was charged with anticipation. a number of them had gathered in a cluster near the mclaren hospitality area, sipping on energy drinks.

"did you see her lap times in practice?" lando exclaims, breaking into the conversation as he leans against a nearby barrier. "she's quick. like, scary quick."

"yeah, aston martin's got themselves a serious contender," carlos chimed in, nodding thoughtfully.

max, usually more reserved in such gatherings, offers a slight smile. "impressive for a rookie," he remarks, his gaze drifting momentarily towards the aston martin garage with the others following his eyes.

daniel, always ready with a joke, pipes up, "so, which one of us is going to crash into her first?"

george chuckled, shaking his head. "i'm just hoping she doesn't make us all look bad out there."

oscar, quieter than the rest, listened intently before adding, "she seemed pretty focused earlier. doesn't look like the pressure's getting to her."

alex, who had been observing the conversation with a smirk, spoke up. "you guys sound like her fan club or something."

"nah, that's just lando and george." charles teases as the men laugh amongst themselves. except for lando and george who simply roll their eyes.

the aston martin team hub door swung open, and you step out, dressed in your team gear. the drivers turn their attention as you make your way through the bustling crowd.

lando and george exchange a look and simultaneously let out a whistle, prompting the others to join in by waving you over. aside from oscar and max, who both remained quiet, not wanting to cause a scene.

"hey! there she is," lando calls out with a grin, his voice carrying across the paddock.

you glance over, noticing their playful gestures, and offer them a friendly wave before continuing towards your team, a faint blush colouring your cheeks.

"hi, boys," you greet, "see you on track!"

as you walk past them, you playfully blow a kiss their way, your lips forming a perfect pout. the effect is instantaneous.

"whoa," daniel breathes, his eyes wide with admiration. "did she just?"

"yep," george nods, his cheeks flushing a light pink. "she totally did."

"man, she's something else," carlos says, his voice a mix of awe and excitement.

oscar, standing a bit to the side, can't help but smile shyly.

"alright, boys," lando claps his hands, trying to break them out of their trance, although he was just as flushed. "let's focus. we’ve got qualifying to get ready for."

the group slowly disperses as they head towards their respective garages.

you head towards the aston martin garage, your mind focused on the upcoming qualifying session. the team hub debriefing had been quick but thorough, and now it was time to put the plan into action.

you begin gearing up as you reach for your helmet, running your fingers over the smooth surface before placing it on your head. the visor snaps shut with a satisfying click, sealing you into your own world.

your engineer makes his way towards you, holding the tablet you've grown so familiar with.

"we've reviewed the data from the third practice session and noticed you're losing time in the high-speed corners. try to be a bit more aggressive on the throttle exiting the turns. it might feel risky, but the car can handle it. trust the grip." he explains, showing you the details on the tablet.

you lean in, studying the screen. "that makes sense. i noticed it as well, 'm just hesitating a little, i think."

one of the mechanics gives you a thumbs up. "you’ve got this. we believe in you."

"thanks, guys," you reply, feeling a surge of confidence.

settling into the cockpit of your car, you feel the warm embrace of the seat. the seatbelts are pulled over your body to ensure your security.

"radio check," your race engineer says.

"loud and clear," you respond.

"alright, everything looks good from our end," he confirms.

you take a deep breath when the garage crew gives you the signal, prompting you to start the engine. the sound reverberates through the garage as you guide it out onto the pit lane, joining the queue of cars waiting to start qualifying.

ahead, the traffic begins to move. your race engineer gives you one final instruction.

"let's get a solid lap in early," he advises. "make us proud."

as you approach the pit exit, adrenaline pulses through your veins. with a surge of acceleration, you unleash the full power of the aston martin down the straight, diving into the first corner with precision and determination.

the qualifying session is underway, and every second counts.

"david, that was a close one! our rookie driver narrowly avoided a collision with leclerc in that hairpin," martin brundle's voice crackles excitedly through the broadcast.

"you're right, martin! that was, um, a risky move from both drivers," ted kravitz chimes in, his tone laced with both concern and admiration.

meanwhile, your engineer's voice cut through the intensity. "good job avoiding that. watch out for the next corner."

"copy," you reply swiftly, your adrenaline pumping as you focused on maintaining control and speed.

back in the commentary box, david kroft adds, "and did you catch that radio message, martin? 'nearly kissed leclerc's ass back there!' that's some raw emotion coming through."

he pauses, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "she's usually so composed. this weekend, though, she's shown incredible positivity, handling the pressure remarkably well."

"she's also managed to charm the entire grid," martin adds with a twinge of amusement to his voice. "drivers seem to be following her around the paddock like moths to a flame. quite a feat for a rookie, wouldn't you say?"

ted nodded in agreement, "indeed, martin. her presence is definitely shaking things up."

the qualifying session eventually reaches its climax. as the clock ticks down, you push your aston martin to its limits, aiming for that pole position.

your laps are almost flawless, pushing the boundaries while maintaining control.

in the commentary box, david kroft's voice rises with excitement, "and look at that! she's setting blistering lap times. the rookie is really on a charge here."

ted kravits chimes in, "absolutely, david. she's flying through sector two!"

on the pit wall, your engineer's voice crackles over the radio, "stay focused. you're setting the pace. keep it up."

"and she crosses the line!" martin brundle exclaims. "that was a stunning lap from her. can she secure pole position? let's see the timing screens."

the atmosphere is electric as the timing screens update. moments pass, tension mounting, until finally, the results flash up on the screen.

"and there it is!" david kroft announces. "pole position for the beloved rookie and aston martin! what a sensational performance."

ted kravits adds, "incredible scenes here in bahrain. she has truly shown her class today. this sets her up perfectly for tomorrow's race."

the car glides to a stop precisely in front of the '1st place' board, followed by leclerc's ferrari in second and verstappen's redbull in third.

as you leap out of the seat, both hands raised high in victory, the crowd erupts into cheers.

you swiftly remove your helmet, revealing a triumphant smile beneath the layers of gear.

amidst the cameras clicking and voices clamouring for attention, you make your way over to the team. you exchange quick embraces and high-fives with your mechanics and engineers, each member of the team soaking up that pole position victory.

with a nod of gratitude to your team, you make your way towards the media pen.

"wow! what a qualifying session!" one of the sky sports reporters announces excitedly as you approach them, microphone pointed at you. "what a sensational performance, it must feel incredible, no?"

you nod, still catching your breath. "thank you, yeah. it feels incredible to be starting from the front."

"how are you feeling about your chances for tomorrow's race?"

taking a moment to compose yourself, you reply, "i'm feeling confident. the team has done a brilliant job, and the car felt fantastic out there. i can't wait for tomorrow!"

the cameras flash around you, capturing your infectious smile. it's a moment you'll cherish forever, marking a milestone in your formula 1 journey.

as you speak, lando, george and bottas, among others, spot you in the media pen. they give you encouraging pats on the shoulder and nods of approval as they pass by in between their own interviews.

the sky sports reporter continues, "aston martin has had its best qualifying result in a while. how does this performance reflect on the team's progress?"

"we've been pushing hard to improve, and today's result shows that we're moving in the right direction." you explain, wiping away a bead of sweat from your forehead. "this just proves that we're, um, ready to put up a fight with the other top teams, and uh, yeah. just so proud to be part of such a wonderful team."

the reporter thanks you for your time before ushering you to head off, not wanting to stall you any longer.

you practically float towards the team hub, each step light and filled with the weightless joy of your achievement.

inside, the familiar atmosphere of the aston martin team surrounds you, the soft hum of activity punctuated by congratulatory smiles and nods from team personnel who notice you enter.

you change swiftly, shedding the race gear for much more comfortable clothes, the shift from racer to relaxed brings you a sigh of relief.

exiting the team hub, you exchange quick goodnights with some of the crew. the paddock is winding down for the night, a peaceful atmosphere settling in with the occasional noise of people packing up.

as you approach the paddock exit, you feel a light tap on your shoulder. you spin around to find oscar piastri standing there, a small smile playing on his lips. his presence always seems to catch you off guard in these moments.

"congrats on pole position. you really nailed it out there." he says warmly, his australian accent ever so obvious.

you feel your cheeks heat up at his sincere words, a shy smile forming. "thank you, oscar. that means a lot."

"you're just full of surprises, huh?" he continues, his tone light and teasing.

you almost find yourself choking on your own words after hearing that, feeling unexpectedly flustered.

"um, something like that," you manage to reply, though your voice betrays a hint of embarrassment.

oscar's smile widens, revealing his bunny teeth. his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

"c'mon, i'll walk you to your car." he insists.

you hesitate for a moment, caught off guard by his offer, but agree nonetheless.

as you walk together, the distance between you felt both too close yet not close enough. you stole your fair share of glances at him, noticing the way his hair was so fluffed up, perhaps from him not tending to it after removing his helmet from earlier.

"so," he began casually, breaking the silence, "how're you feelin' about it all?"

you bite your lip, trying to steady your voice. "oh, y'know, it feels overwhelming, but at the same time, i'm over the moon!"

oscar chuckles softly, the sound making your heart flutter. "you're handling it all so well, though."

"did you get nervous during your rookie season?" you ask in a more serious tone.

he nods. "oh, absolutely. anyone who says they didn't is lying."

you laugh, and the sound of your voice is so angelic that oscar can’t help but join in.

"i guess it gets easier over time," you say, your eyes meeting his for a brief moment.

"i'll get back to you on that when i get my first win." he teases.

"it'll come sooner than you think," you reply with a playful grin, nudging him lightly.

the adrenaline from qualifying still lingers, but now there's a different kind of electricity between you two.

oscar meets your gaze with a faint smile, his usually reserved demeanour softened by the day's events.

"on a serious note, i'm so proud of you." he muses, his voice holding a hint of awe. "i know you'll go far."

he looks at you with a mix of admiration and something deeper, a connection that neither of you dares to fully acknowledge yet.

"i could say the same for you." your voice softens, feeling surprisingly shy despite your usual bubbly nature.

your fingers play with a stray strand of hair nervously, a habit that betrays your composure around him. oscar notices, and a gentle smile tugs at his lips.

as you approach your car, the conversation slows. you both stand there, reluctant to say goodbye.

oscar shifts his weight slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "i'll see you tomorrow,"

"yeah, see you tomorrow," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. there's a brief pause, a moment where it feels like something more might be said, but then oscar gives you a small, heartfelt smile before turning to leave.

once in your hotel room, you change into your pyjamas and crawl into bed. but no matter how hard you try, you can't sleep.

you toss and turn, unable to get oscar out of your head. his little smile where his gums barely just peek through, the way he praised you earlier—all of it keeps you awake.

"oh, for fucks sake!" you groan, practically wrestling with the covers as you switch positions for the ninth time in ten minutes.

your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, all centred around piastri. every time you close your eyes, you see his face, hear his voice, and feel that stupid flutter in your chest again.

you punch your pillow in frustration and flop back down, head turned to face the window with hopes that the city lights are enough to lull you to sleep.

meanwhile, across the corridor, oscar is suffering with a similar problem. he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, thoughts of you taking up far too much room in his head for his liking.

he sighs, rolling onto his side, but the images don't fade. it's maddening, this constant replay of every moment he spent with you today.

oscar sits up abruptly, running a hand through his hair. he knows he won't be able to sleep like this.

he throws off the covers in frustration. fuck it.

oscar slips on a shirt and rushes out into the hallway. his footsteps quickening as he heads towards your room. he doesn't think over his actions, he just knows he needs to see you.

the night feels unusually long, with each passing minute driving you more insane.

you sit upright and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. the carpet feels cool under your bare feet as you stand up, your heart beating a little faster with each step towards the closet.

your fingers fumble slightly as you slip on your shoes, the urgency to see oscar overriding any feeling of tiredness.

you take a deep breath, your hand lingering on the door handle. the hallway outside seems quieter than usual, as if holding its breath in anticipation of your next move. you open the door and step into the hallway, leaving all rationality in the hotel room, never to be considered again.

and then, at that exact moment, your paths meet. you round a corner just as oscar approaches from the opposite direction.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still.

"i just wanted to—" oscar begins, his voice faltering as you jog up to him, closing the gap between you in quick strides. you reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands, your touch silencing his attempts to explain.

"don't talk," you whisper, your voice barely audible. without further hesitation, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a bold and hungry kiss.

his hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer with a gentle urgency. the world around you blurs as you melt into him. your own hands find their way to his head, fingers threading through his hair as you lose yourself in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours.

the kiss feels like it lasts for ages, leaving you both breathless and panting as you finally pull away.

"i can't stop thinking about you," oscar mumbles, his voice coated with sleep that he was never able to get. "even when i try."

you're completely overwhelmed by the flood of feelings that surge within you. finally, after a long moment of silence, you manage to splutter out a response.

"you drive me crazy, piastri." you confess, your words carrying the weight of everything you've held back until now.

he cups your face gently in his hands. "kiss me again," he begs, "and don't stop this time."

without another word, you lean in once again, closing the distance between you. oscar's hands, which were rested on your waist moments ago, now tap against your thigh, signalling for you to get ready to jump.

with ease, he hoists you up, his arms strong and steady as he holds you tightly. you wrap your arms around his neck, trusting him completely as he begins to carry you down the hallway, lips still attached.

oscar navigates the hotel corridors with determination, his pace steady despite the weight in his arms. his only concern is you, and the overwhelming need to be close to you.

sure, it's a bit disorienting not being able to see where you're going, but in this moment, neither of you could care less about anything aside from each other.

fortunately, you make it to his hotel room without incident, the door closing softly behind you as oscar gently sets you down.

you both tumble onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. oscar's hands roam your back, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss.

eventually, the need for oxygen becomes too great, and you both pull apart, gasping for air yet unwilling to let go completely. your chests rise and fall in unison, breaths mingling as you try to steady yourselves.

"you taste so sweet," he murmurs, his breath hot against your lips. "can't get enough of you."

the two of you lie there for a moment, hands still exploring each other's bodies in gentle, loving caresses. oscar's fingers trace the outline of your jaw before bringing his thumb up to brush against your cheek.

wrapped in each other's arms, you both drift off to sleep, the gentle rhythm of your breaths synchronising.

when you wake up the next morning, the soft light of dawn filters through the curtains. you blink sleepily, feeling the comforting weight of oscar's arm draped over you. you take a moment to savour the feeling of being so close to him.

you turn to face him, finding him already awake with his eyes fixed on you. a soft smile graces his lips when he reaches to brush a strand of hair from your face.

you take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "oscar, what are we?"

he raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "you tell me."

you dip your head down, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. oscar takes notice and chuckles softly, shaking his head. "don't get all shy on me now," he teases.

with a gentle touch, he hooks his finger under your chin and lifts your head slightly, guiding your eyes to meet his. "we can be whatever you want us to be," he whispers.

you search his eyes, seeing nothing but honesty and affection reflected back at you. "i want us to be together," you finally confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "i want you, oscar."

"and you have me, baby." he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

the room falls under a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks louder than words ever could. oscar's nails lightly graze your arm, a soothing touch that sends a shiver down your spine.

his shirt from the night before is nowhere to be seen and you let your eyes wander over his exposed chest and all the freckles that adorned it.

oscar breaks the silence, smirking to himself. "but, are y'sure you don't want carlos instead? or george? oh hey, how about the man himself, lando norris?"

"aww, you're hilarious." you roll your eyes, biting back a smile.

after a few minutes of lying in bed, enjoying the warmth of oscar's arms draped over your body, you reluctantly pull away.

oscar stirs slightly but remains in a restful state, his eyes half-lidded. you're careful not to disturb him as you rise from his bed. it takes every ounce of strength within you to not pounce on him and litter his adorable face with kisses or squish his cheeks.

however, you have to remind yourself that a race is still on the line. your first official race.

his tired eyes follow your movements with a faint, sleepy smile. with one final look, you turn the handle and step out into the hallway, making sure the door closes quietly behind you.

the corridor is calm, with only the faint sounds of early morning activity in the distance. you move swiftly but quietly, eager to return to your own room and prepare for the busy day ahead.

once you're dressed, you move to the bathroom to tidy up your hair. it's slightly messy from last night, and you grab a brush to smooth out the tangles, hoping it gives you a more polished look.

as you brush through your hair, you shift a few strands to the side to get a better angle.

that's when you notice something alarming—a large, prominent hickey on your neck. the mark is definitely visible, with the purple shade that stands out against your skin.

you try to stay calm as you think of solutions. a high-necked top or some creative use of makeup might help. making your way out of the ensuite, you frantically search for anything that can help you conceal it or at least make it less obvious.

given the scorching heat in bahrain, you decide against a high-necked top. instead, you opt for a tank top with a floral print and a comfortable pair of jeans.

with your outfit chosen, you turn your attention to the hickey on your neck. you stare at it in the mirror, feeling a pang of worry.

but it also brings you back memories from last night, when oscar had sucked a little too hard on your skin. you can't say you hated it, but you can't really say you love the idea of walking around the paddock with a purple splotch on your skin either.

as you work on concealing the hickey, you keep glancing at the clock, knowing you need to be on your way soon. the concealer helps somewhat, but you're aware it may not completely hide the mark.

just as you approach the elevators, you're surprised to see oscar standing there. he's leaning against the wall, seemingly relaxed and waiting for the elevator to arrive.

when he notices you, a teasing smile spreads across his face. "stalkin' me now, are you?"

you offer a small smile in return, trying your hardest to suppress the awkward feeling that’s rising within.

"everything alright?" he asks, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

you nod, trying to keep your composure. "yeah, of course."

the elevator arrives with a soft ding, and the doors open. you step inside with oscar following close behind.

"okay, actually," your worried voice cuts through the light conversation as you turn to oscar, his head snapping in your direction with immediate concern. "we may have a little problem."

his eyebrows knit together, a look of genuine curiousity replacing his earlier teasing. "yeah? what's up?" he asks, his tone turning serious. he places a hand gently on your hips, thumb rubbing up and down your sides as he senses the tension in your voice.

you exhale, trying to steady your nerves as you gesture toward the exposed area of your neck. the makeup had already started to melt away, revealing the mark that you'd hoped to keep hidden.

oscar's brown eyes widen in surprise, and he has to stifle a laugh, slapping a hand over his mouth to control himself. his shoulders shake slightly as he tries to suppress a giggle, the corners of his lips twitching despite his best efforts.

you playfully slap his arm "oscar! this is not funny," you say, though a smile tugs at your lips, unable to completely resist his laughter.

oscar looks at you with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. "i'm sorry," he manages between chuckles, "but it's kind of cute." he takes a step closer, his expression softening. "you'll be fine, trust me."

as the two of you make your way outside, oscar leads you to his car, his hand gently clasped around yours.

the drive to the paddock is filled with a comforting silence. the hum of the engine and occasional whoosh of passing traffic creates a soothing backdrop.

oscar lets his hand rest gently on your thigh, gripping it firmly every now and then when he has to make a turn.

the moment you’re in view, the commotion around you intensifies. cameras start flashing furiously once oscar parks the car.

as you walk, you can feel the weight of hundreds of eyes on you and in the midst of this frenzy, you spot a group of familiar faces standing together with jaws on the floor.

lando, george and carlos are watching from a short distance, their eyes wide as they take in the sight before them.

alex strolls past the group, laughing his ass off as he takes in their baffled expressions. "got a backup, lando? maybe another portuguese model?"

lando's eyes widen in surprise, his mouth opening slightly in disbelief. he turns to george and carlos, who are equally as dumbfounded, and raises an eyebrow as if to say, 'are you hearing this shit?'

george chuckles and shakes his head, while carlos tries to stifle a laugh. lando, still processing what his eyes are seeing, eventually breaks into a grin, shaking his head in disbelief at the audacity of alex's comment.

"seriously, mate?" lando calls after alex with an unamused expression. alex just grins wider, his laughter still echoing as he continues to walk away.

oscar gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you approach the paddock entrance. his fingers linger on your hand for a moment before he releases it, giving you a smile. "make me proud, okay?"

"i'll see you soon," you reply, before turning to head toward the aston martin team hub.

as you make your way inside, a cheer erupts from the team members clustered around the room.

"there's our pole sitter!" someone shouts, and the rest of the team quickly join in.

the encouraging words and praise boost your confidence as you head towards the drivers' room. however, amidst the celebration, one of the team members notice something unusual.

"hey, what's that on your neck?" they ask, pointing out the faint mark that's barely covered by the concealer.

you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you try to brush it off with a nervous laugh. "oh, that's nothing," you say quickly, trying to downplay it as you make a beeline for the drivers' room.

the other team members glance at each other with curious shrugs, unsure about the mark but too engrossed in the day's preparations to pursue it further.

you quickly change into your race suit, the familiar material feeling both comforting and empowering. the race suit helps to hide the mark, but you can’t help feeling a bit self-conscious.

just as you're finishing up and adjusting the suit, alonso knocks on the door. as you welcome him in, you subtly tug at the collar of your race suit, pulling it a little bit higher over the hickey.

"lookin' sharp," alonso says, giving you a nod of approval. "you ready to kick some ass?"

"ready as i'll ever be."

alonso approaches, his eyes scanning your outfit and then meeting your gaze. "if you need anything, you know where to find me."

you nod, feeling reassured by his support. "thanks, fernando."

"oh, and one more thing," alonso says, halting you as you're about to follow him out. "don't go easy on him."

your brows furrow in confusion. "easy on who?"

alonso smirks, "you know who i mean." and with that, he steps out of the room.

you stand there for a moment, processing fernando's words. it suddenly clicks. of course, he was talking about oscar piastri.

deciding to ignore it, you exit the team hub and recieve some more pats on the bats on your way out.

the walk to the garage is filled with the sounds of engines revving and team members bustling about.

your team is already hard at work, making final adjustments to your car. you weave through the organised chaos with mechanics giving you a quick thumbs-up as you pass by.

you join your race engineer, immediately diving into discussions about strategies and how we can make this race an ultimate success.

the tension builds as the minutes tick by with the weight of the upcoming race settling on your shoulders.

"the weather looks stable," your race engineer says, eyes scanning a tablet filled with data. "we're starting on mediums to play it safe."

you nod, absorbing the information. "what about tire degradation?"

"we're seeing higher wear on the left rear," he replies. "we'll monitor it closely, but be mindful of it, especially through sector 2."

he continues. "and keep an eye on piastri. he's been quick in the last few sessions, so he might try something early on."

a confident smile tugs at your lips. "got it."

he places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "we believe in you. let's bring this home."

you slip on your balaclava, followed by your helmet. next, you pull on your gloves, flexing your fingers to ensure a perfect fit. each piece of gear feels like a second skin.

the grid is bustling with activity, teams making final adjustments and media capturing every moment. you take your place alongside the other drivers, the cars lined up neatly on the grid behind you.

as the national anthem plays, you stand tall. this is what you've worked for, what you've dreamed of.

with everything in place and the anthem finishing, you make your way over to the car, sliding into the seat that's been perfectly mould to your body.

yeah, you were almost certain that this thing will see the chequered flag first.

you grip the steering wheel, feeling the power of the car beneath you. the controls are familiar, and you run through a quick mental checklist with yourself.

you glance up, catching a glimpse of your team. they believe in you, and you believe in this car. with a deep breath, you close your eyes for a brief second, centering yourself.

when you open them again, you’re ready.

the formation lap begins and the cars start to move off the grid, each driver accelerating smoothly. you lead the pack, your car humming with power as you guide it through the initial lap.

the static buzz of the radio fades as your engineer's voice comes through clear and steady.

"radio check." he asks.

"yep, radio check." you reply,

you navigate the track, taking note of the conditions and the feel of the car. as you complete the formation lap, you position your car on the starting grid.

the lights go out, and your car leaps off the grid, pulling ahead with precision. you quickly establish your position at the front, your car gliding smoothly over the track.

but then, a sudden commotion erupts behind you. you catch a glimpse of charles and max clashing on the track. their cars veer off course, skidding into the barriers. they manage to regain control and rejoin the race, but not without losing several positions.

the incident causes a shuffle in the ranks. oscar, lando and lewis are quick to capitalise on the opportunity, moving up in the standings. piastri, in particular, closes the gap between you and himself, gaining drs as he approaches.

with a burst of speed, piastri overtakes you, sliding into the lead. frustration bubbles up inside you. you curse into the radio, "fuck!"

"it's fine," comes the calm response from your race engineer. "stay focused, and let's fight for it."

as the race continues, the cameras capture the dynamic battle on the track. in the commentary booth, david croft and ted kravitz provide their take on the unfolding drama.

david croft's voice fills the airwaves, "what a dramatic few laps it has been! we saw that collision between charles leclerc and max verstappen. both drivers managed to get back in the race, but they've dropped several positions as a result. and now, the change in the leaderboard is significant."

ted kravitz chimes in, "absolutely, david. it's been a game-changer. and now, oscar piastri has made a fantastic move, overtaking our leader. piastri has seized the opportunity, and it's been a fierce battle up front. our pole sitter is currently locked in an intense fight with piastri for that top spot."

david continues, "it's incredible to watch, especially given the circumstances. but it's not just the on-track action that's got everyone talking. there was, uh, quite a sighting in the paddock today, wasn't there, ted?"

ted nods, "oh, definitely, david. earlier today, we saw our pole sitter and oscar piastri entering the paddock together, hand in hand. it's, um, clear that there's more than just racing going on here."

as you approach a sharp turn, you make a decisive move. you dive to the inside line, threading the needle between oscar and the track's edge. you manage to slip past him, momentarily taking the lead.

the race engineer's voice crackles through your radio, offering words of encouragement and strategy adjustments, but you barely register it, focused entirely on the battle unfolding before you.

glancing in your mirrors, you can see oscar's car in close pursuit. he remains close, shadowing your every move as he looks for an opportunity to retake the position.

the final lap approaches, and you and oscar are locked in a relentless duel, each trying to outmaneuver the other.

as you round a particularly tight corner, oscar makes his move. with a daring overtake, he slips past you on the inside line, his car briefly nudging ahead. before you can fully react, he's already in the lead.

david croft's voice crackles through the broadcast, filled with excitement. "and it's piastri! oscar piastri has taken the lead on the final lap! what a move! what a race!"

ted pipes up, equally as thrilled. "what a battle we've witnessed today! it's been a masterclass in racing, and oscar piastri has just pulled off a sensational move. this is what formula one is all about!"

the final lap unfolds like a dramatic climax, with oscar holding his position and maintaining his lead. you're right on his tail, pushing hard, trying to find any opportunity to reclaim the position. but as the cars cross the finish line, it's oscar who comes out on top, clinching the victory in a spectacular finish.

oscar's excitement bursts forth over the radio. "holy shit, let’s go boys! fucking hell."

you pull your car into the designated area, where your team greets you with a mix of congratulations and supportive claps on the back.

while the taste of second place feels bittersweet, the praise from your team help lift your spirits. you take a moment to soak in the accomplishment, knowing that you've made a strong debut and set a solid foundation for the rest of the season.

amid the excitement, you glance over to where oscar stands, his own team gathered around him in celebration. as you approach, your focus narrows to him.

with a determined stride, you reach oscar and cup his cheeks with your hands. his eyes meet yours, and without hesitation, you lean in and press your lips against his in a deep kiss.

oscar's initial reaction is one of surprise. his face turns a shade of red that stands out even amidst the chaotic energy of the post-race environment. the sight of him blushing brightly is amusing, and it quickly becomes one of the highlights of the day for the spectators.

along with his first win, of course.

oscar's expression softens as he eases into the kiss. his hands move from resting at his sides to firmly gripping your waist, pulling you even closer to him. his fingers then splay across your back, holding you securely as if to make the moment last a little longer.

the background noise fades to a mere hum as the intensity of the kiss takes over. the cameras capture every detail—the way his eyes flutter shut, the way he holds you and the team whistling from behind the barrier.

as the kiss finally breaks, you both pull away slightly, your breaths mingling in the space between you. oscar's face is still flushed, but his smile is wide, giving you a perfect visual of his bunny teeth.

the cameras pan out to capture the broader scene—the celebrations, the crowd and the special moment unfolding in front of everyone.

the media is already setting up for the post-race interviews. the presenter approaches oscar, holding a microphone and a giddy smile.

"oscar! how does it feel to take the win today?" the presenter asks, clearly thrilled.

oscar replies, still catching his breath from the intense race, as well as that hot kiss from earlier. "yeah, it feels surreal. the team did a fantastic job, and it was a tough battle out there. i'm just so happy to be standing here with the win."

the presenter nods enthusiastically. "and what about that last-minute move? you really pulled ahead at the perfect time."

oscar chuckles, looking slightly bashful. "yeah, it was tight. i knew i had to make the most of it and, uh, just went for it. glad it worked out."

as oscar finishes his interview, the presenter turns to you, giving a nod for you to come over. "and now, let’s hear from our second-place finisher. how was the race for you?"

you step forward. "it was an incredible race," you say. "i gave it my all out there. but i'm just—yeah, really proud of the performance today."

the presenter smiles, intrigued. "and how about the battle with oscar? it looked intense."

you nod, remembering the close fight. "yeah, it was definitely intense. we were going wheel to wheel, and it's always a challenge when you’re racing someone as talented as oscar. i enjoyed every moment of it."

finally, the presenter turns to lando, who"s waiting patiently. "lando, third place today. how are you feeling?"

lando grins, looking surprisingly pleased for third place. "it's a great result for the team. i had a good start and was able to keep up with the leaders. it's always nice to be on the podium, especially with these guys."

you and oscar eventually head into the cooldown room. lando, having secured third place, is already there, grinning widely.

lando gestures to you with a smirk, clearly curious. "so, when did all this happen?" he asks, his tone light and teasing.

before either of you can respond, lando's eyes catch the very obvious hickey on your neck. his expression shifts to one of realisation, and he quickly adds, "actually, you know what, i don't think you need to answer that." he snickers to himself.

oscar's cheeks flush slightly, but he quickly recovers, offering lando a weak smile. you, on the other hand, can't help but laugh. the awkwardness of the situation making you burst into giggles.

"hey, you two make a pretty hot couple," lando teases as his eyebrows wiggle suggestively.

"gee, thanks, lando," you reply, playfully rolling your eyes. "glad to know we've got your approval."

lando, with a satisfied smile, plops into his third place chair beside oscar, stretching his arms out and giving a contented sigh.

oscar settles next to you, still buzzing from the adrenaline of the race but also softened by the relief of the day's end.

the room is filled with a mix of casual chatter and the low hum of the television screen mounted on the wall.

the screen flickers to life, showing highlights of the race. the first sequence captures the chaotic scene of leclerc and verstappen's crash.

as the footage plays, you and oscar wince in unison, your eyes widening at the sight of the collision. the memory of the crash, though intense, is quickly overshadowed by the excitement of the next scenes.

you and oscar's fierce battle near the end of the race fills the screen. the camera angles highlight every tight turn and near-overlap, showcasing the intensity of your fight for the lead.

watching it unfold, you can't help but cringe a little at the close calls and the sheer effort that went into maintaining your position.

oscar's hand rests casually on the arm of his chair, his eyes locked on the screen with a look of admiration. you find yourself leaning in slightly, lips parted as you study yourself whizzing round the track from a different perspective.

after some time in the cooldown room, you and the others make your way to the podium for the iconic celebration. fans, photographers and different teams gather around.

the podium setup stands before you, each step gleaming under the bright lights. the top step, reserved for the race winner, is adorned with the australian flag.

lando, who finished third, stands to your left on the third step, while you take your place on the second step, the weight of your impressive finish still sinking in.

oscar steps onto the first-place podium and the crowd erupts into cheers until the australian national anthem begins to play.

you watch as oscar's face lights up with a broad smile, his eyes shining with pride.

when the anthem comes to an end and the trophies have been handed out accordingly, he raises his arms in victory, acknowledging the cheers from those standing below him.

the iconic moment arrives with the pop of the champagne bottles, sending liquid flying through the air. oscar, standing proudly on the top step, grabs his bottle and begins to spray it wildly.

the celebratory spray quickly turns into a mess, with lando and you joining in on the fun.

you then move over to the media pen for a few more interviews. the reporters ask about your performance, your feelings on finishing second, and your thoughts on the battle for first place.

as the interviews wind down, you head towards the mclaren team hub. oscar is inside, celebrating with everyone, soaking up the joy of his first win.

you wait outside, leaning casually on the railing.

you catch brief glimpses of oscar through the humongous windows, his face alight with happiness as he chats with his crew and poses for photos.

as the minutes pass, you hear the muffled sounds of celebration from inside eventually settling down. finally, oscar emerges from the team hub, his face practically glowing.

he spots you almost instantly waiting by the railing and walks over, his smile widening as he approaches.

"hey," he says, his voice carrying the warmth of his recent success. "my little superstar."

you give him a soft smile, relieved to see him so happy. "see? what'd i tell you? sooner than you think."

oscar reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "i wanna see you up there next."

suddenly, he sweeps you off your feet, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. you giggle as he twirls you around before gently setting you back down. his hands linger on your waist, fingers toying with the fabric of your outfit.

as you and oscar stroll hand in hand towards the paddock exit, the buzz of the paddock slowly fades away, replaced by a quieter, more intimate atmosphere.

when you reach the parking lot, you find that you don't have to part ways. there's a subtle sense of relief and joy that accompanies this realisation because instead of heading to separate cars, you get to stay together.

anyways, you aren’t mad that he stole your win, because the post-win sex after was fucking worth it.

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bunnys-kisses · 13 days

Note

Ooooo can I grab a spice pie a Eton mess with a coffee and hard lemonade please and thank you bunny 😊

With max verstappen

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu (yay), there's still tons of things to order and i'd love for you have a little slice from the bakery! thank you for any prompts sent and especially to @e-verstappen for this lovely prompt! i don't usually get a lot of spice pie & eton mess orders so this was fun!! i hope you enjoy!! <3

spice pie ("i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut.") + eton mess ("be careful. your breath smells like cum.") + coffee (rivals au) + hard lemonade (possessive behavior)

cw: smut/pwp, rivals au, possessive behavior, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!max, ferrari driver!reader, jos jumpscare, oral sex (reader receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

this had a happen in groups of three within a similar time frame. and with max, these three things sent the possessive driver off the edge. you had been deluding yourself into believing that these encounters with him were simple little flings.

you didn't realize that max verstappen had been going around the paddock telling people that you were together and to get their noses out of you. regardless, things happened in threes

first, it was practice. for the singapore grand prix, you shoved max out of first position and he scrambled only being able to cling onto fifth. it didn't help that jos had come by to see how the weekend was going to shape up. secondly, the same jos verstappen congratulated you on the excellent job maintaining a strong presence on the track. what made max's mouth twitch as he watched was that his father was being genuine to you. and thirdly, while you and max were in his hotel the night before the race, both nursing a beer. he caught a glimpse of you on raya.

and that just set the driver off. beer can tumbled on the floor, and his hands around your wrist. your phone threatening to meet the beer can. your eyes gazed into his with concern marking your features.

"what the fuc-"

"i didn't know it was possible to be a liar and a slut." his words were biting.

"excuse me!"

"raya? really? you sit there all pretty on the track. getting all the praise, and the first place in the qualifiers. then you come with me and now you're trying to find other men to fuck." his voice was venomous.

you got out of his grasp and gave him a shove off of you on the couch, "this is stress relief, asshole." then shifted in your seat as you put your phone to the side. you hated that when he got like that, it turned you on, "and i barely got any praise from anyone besides me team. it was almost too close to call."

his hand was on your thigh and his lips at your neck. he said, "stress relief?" his breathing was hot against your neck, "god, you're stupid." his large hands were on your hips as he went after your neck once more.

this time were was little resistance from you. you couldn't help it, after all this time with him. he still made your brain turn into soup.

"no, no. this is far from casual. the trips, the gifts, our time together. you knew deep down that you're only on raya to kill time. because you don't want to admit that you already found your husband."

you took him by the back of the neck and looked into his gaze. you swallowed, "you're a possessive fuck, max."

he raised his eyebrows at you, "i have to. because these men don't know when a woman is taken." before he crashed his lips against yours. you wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders.

you hated it. he was your rival, you stood on opposing ends. you fought tooth and nail on the track, your entire career had been snapping your fangs at one another. so to be stripped for vulnerable felt so different. it was like max could see through it all. whatever face you've given to the press.

you hated more that it was the same face you put on raya. the confident woman of formula one. but deep down, you yearned to be loved by someone. someone who was as unbalanced as you. thus you collided with max as he got between your legs and started to get you out of the sweatpants (that he owned) you were wearing. your panties went with it.

"i need to remind you that you are mine, got it? i need that app deleted when i'm done with you. better yet, delete the entire account and apologize to the company for wasting their time with you on it... because you weren't finding prince charming on it." then went between your legs and licked across your cunt which made you tense up.

his mouth on you was hot and it made you heated all over. damn max verstappen damn him, and when his tongue came out you were gripping onto his short almost-blond hair. you felt the skip in your chest as he rubbed his nose up against your clit.

if you could, you'd be hitting him in the head in frustration. he drover you insane as much as you fell in love with him. a push and pull of desires as he orally pleasured you. your toes curled in the socks you wore (which was also stolen from him).

his tongue continued to lap against your soaked hole and his nose nudged up against your achy clit. it was a stimulated hell in the best was possible. it made you feel so hot that you eventually took your t-shirt off and laid there in just socks and your bra.

while it felt amazing, he didn't quite get you to climax, when he eventually came up for air. he looked up at you with those blue eyes of his. there was a heated lust in them as he got up from his spot on the couch and was on you once more. he was heavily breathing, as were you.

"be careful. your breath smells like cum." you said softly as you covered his mouth with your hand for a moment before he went in for a searing kiss. first on your palm before he pulled it away and went for your lips.

you whined against the kiss and gripped onto the back of his shirt. your nails dug into the soft fabric, threatening to rip it off his shoulders. his clothed, hard cock rubbed against your achy cunt.

"i want you." you sighed, "i hate that you're in my head."

he chuckled, "i wouldn't want to be anywhere else." he got his cock out of his pants and rubbed it against you for a few moments before he sank inside of you. his hands braced on the back of the couch as he got inside of you as far as he could go. which was far enough because you could already feel him bruising your poor cunt.

you shuddered, your nipples grew hard as you held onto his strong shoulders. he always made you feel so good, especially when those soft lips of his were pressed against yours. it was because of you that he learned what lip balm was and didn't gross any of his dates out. now it benefited you as he rocked his cock up into you.

fucking on the couch like two desperate animals. but desperation didn't lead to long lasting sessions of intimacy. you hated that max verstappen lived in your head rent free, devouring any attempts to meet anyone else. why meet anyone else when you have max? while you bloomed under his attention, you hated that you had little choice in the matter. he had sunk his claws into you long ago. and now you were lazily making out with him.

you came quickly, like a strike of lightning through your body. you moaned into the kiss and arched your back off the couch as he continued to fuck you with a high intensity. your toes curled and your nails dug into his shoulders more.

he panted heavily, "that's good. a good little girl. you know exactly how to get me going." he groaned as he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts and it made you feel hot all over as his cock pressed into the deepest parts of you. your brain felt over stimulated and the kisses got harder.

you needed him, it wasn't a want any long. he was what was pulling at your chest as he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you with a heated groan against your lips. which made you pant heavily.

you relaxed against the covers and panted heavily. you felt a drum of heat in your head as you looked at him. he was loomed over you for a moment as he tried to compose himself.

you let out a little whimper and it made max's cock jump while still in you.

"now do you get it? you're mine." he said as he pulled out and then grabbed your face for a kiss. you moaned a little into the kiss and when he pulled away, "right?"

you looked at him a little blissed out, your tongue couldn't find the words. but that didn't mind max too much, he could see it in your eyes. his little rival wanted him. he gave you another kiss before he got a hold of you. he could get a second round out of you in the bedroom before he fucked all sense out of you. <3

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smileysuh · 5 months

Text

ghost house

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric. It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh. Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties. You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

tw/cw. Voyeurism, unprotected sex with a ghost, Hyuck is a repressed perv, he’s not a virgin but he’s not experienced either, pantie sniffer Hyuck, Hyuck watching y/n masturbate using ghost powers, Hyuck using y/n’s panties to cum in, weird ghost cum, Hyuck is a switch but leans more submissive at parts, self asphyxiation/choking, y/n punishes Hyuck for being a naughty ghostie, making Hyuck watch her masturbate without touching himself, fingering, oral (f receiving), pussy drunk/addict hyuck, overstimulation, hair pulling, hyuck cums and y/n decides to keep riding him, hyuck likes to be choked, dirty talk, hyuck has a good boy kink, praise kink, degradation/humiliation, finger sucking, face riding, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (Haechan’s) ghostie, baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.3k

🍭 aus. ghost!hyuck, witch!reader, supernatural au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've never written Hyuck this subby/switchy, but I think it worked, he still has his dom moments, but this man is a near virgin, little, repressed for 20 years ghost shit head who wants to be told he's a good boy, and I'm not even mad about it

Prologue:

“It’s a little unusual for prospective tenants to bring a pet along,” the shy man showing you the house murmurs, watching the way your cat follows you through the halls of the old building.

“Well, it’s important that Pluto likes it here,” you muse, casting your gaze down to your little dark shadow as he darts here and there, chasing orbs and specks of dust that illuminate in the rays of sun streaming through the murky windows. “How long has it been since you had a renter?”

“Too long,” Mark Lee sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “In all honesty, I’m sure you know the reputation this place has.”

“It’s the Ghost House,” you respond, turning to stare at the relative of a man who’d lost his life in this location twenty or so years ago.

“My family hasn’t even tried to rent it out in recent years, but then you found me on Facebook and asked for a showing, I figured, what could it hurt?”

“I guess you don’t believe that this place is haunted?” you inquire, studying the tired, mundane man while Pluto curls around your feet.

“I haven’t spent enough time here to decide what I think,” Mark admits. “My family needs income, and if you’re willing to rent this place out, for half of what you could find anywhere else, we’d love for you to take it. Ghosts, or no ghosts.”

“I’m betting on the ghost aspect,” you tease, looking down at Pluto and following his gaze to a shadowy form at the end of the hall. “I’ll take it.”

One

You’ve been in your new Ghost House for over a month, and in that time, Hyuck has realized you’re no ordinary tenant.

It had started with the way your cat reacted to him, following him around, not scared in the slightest. And then, Hyuck had noticed the way you’d tracked your black cat Pluto with your own eyes, using the animal to try to focus in on Hyuck himself.

At first, he’d thought you were some sort of clairvoyant or wanna-be ghost hunter, but then, you’d pulled out a Grimoire and a cauldron and Hyuck had realized you were more along the lines of a witch.

When you’d first moved in, Hyuck had relished the idea of haunting you out of the house, but now he finds himself to be the one that’s haunted.

He can’t get a moment's peace without your cat following him all over the place, and where your cat goes, you quickly follow. Hyuck has taken to going to the attic, where the door can’t be pushed open by a determined kitty. He fucking hates the attic.

He’s sitting amidst some cobwebs, contemplating how badly he’d fucked up in life to get to this situation, when the attic door creaks on its hinges.

Your head pops through the hole. Your gaze shifts around, and Hyuck could swear your irises look exceptionally feline-esque when they land on him. “Why are you hiding?”

You can’t actually be talking to him. You can’t actually be seeing him- it shouldn’t be possible, and yet, here it is, happening.

“Come now, Donghyuck, are you skulking?”

“Fuck off,” he mutters.

“Is that any way to speak to a witch who’s here to help you?” you laugh.

You’d definitely heard him, and the realization makes a cold shiver run up his spine. Hyuck stands up, approaching you. He waits for you to flinch or pull away, but you don’t, you simply watch him until he’s a few feet away.

“How are you seeing me right now?” he asks.

“I’ve been testing out spells with personal objects of yours that I’ve stumbled upon in the house, nothing works quite like a photo, I’ve found,” you explain. “It’s good to finally see you. I’d hoped to meet you properly within the first week, but it’s been a whole month now of us living together, which feels awfully rude of me.”

“What’s rude is your stupid cat following me around everywhere.” When Hyuck takes a peek down the attic entry manhole, he finds your feline friend at the foot of the ladder, looking up at him with inquisitive eyes.

“Pluto is just doing his job, he was raised to see spirits. The Roman God of the Dead is his namesake after all.”

“The Roman God of the Dead?” Hyuck’s nose scrunches up in distaste. He flunked grade twelve, not that Roman deities were on the learning agenda.

“Forget about it, would you like to come down and talk with me for a while? Now that I can see you and communicate, I think we should have a chat.” You study him carefully. “Although, I will note that until I find a better spell, I’ll only be able to see you like this until your photo stops burning, which could be ten minutes or twenty.”

The pathological demand avoidance in Hyuck makes him want to refuse you, but at the same time, he hasn’t spoken to anyone in over twenty years, not since that night when everything had gone so wrong-

It helps that you’re a cute girl.

With a sigh, Hyuck agrees, following you down to the living room where he finds a makeshift alter, his picture in the center of it, its edges charred. The space smells like some sort of incense, Hyuck can’t pin it, and for the first time in twenty years, Hyuck actually feels something akin to fear.

As the Ghost of the House, Hyuck has always been the one with the power. He’s been the one who scared off the first few tenants with knocks late at night, phone calls in the early hours, and even wearing a sheet to scare off the children young enough to be susceptible to seeing him.

But in this situation, sitting on the nicest chair in the room, your cat lounging on your lap, Hyuck realizes that the power of a ghost is no match to that of a witch. You look like a Goddess, or a queen- energy radiating off of you now that you’re near your alter, and it makes Hyuck’s skin tingle.

“So?” Hyuck asks after sitting in uncomfortable silence for what felt like ages.

“So?” you echo, quirking a brow.

“Why are you here?” he clarifies with a huff of frustration. “Why are you trying so hard to communicate with me?”

“I’m mostly here because the rent is less than half of what I could get anywhere else, and it’s a whole house, so that felt like a no-brainer in this economy,” you laugh. “Although, seeing as you’ve been dead for over twenty years, I’m not going to give you a lesson on rent increase and the cost of living in this day and age. As a witch, I thought this would be a very interesting house to live in, and I’ve been trying to communicate with you, because the way I see it, you’re practically my roommate. We share this house, and I’d like for things to go smoothly.”

“Smoothly,” Hyuck lets out a laugh.

“If you’d rather I exhume your remains and send you to Hell, that can be arranged too.”

Hyuck feels his throat go dry.

“That’s what I thought,” you grin. “So what do you say, roommates?”

“Fine. But I’m tired of the attic.”

“You put yourself there,” you point out.

“Look, you be nice to me, I be nice to you,” Hyuck suggests. “Fair?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ghost boy.”

Two

Living with you actually isn’t so bad. Hyuck’s gotten used to Pluto following him around, but you generally keep to yourself, and he appreciates that trait.

Sure, you get up to witch mojo, and the house smells like all sorts of herbs and shit half the time, but Hyuck has taken to living mostly in the room that used to be his own. He prefers the south-facing space to the dark attic, and although life is boring most of the time, it’s still better than whatever afterlife Hyuck could expect as a man who accidentally took his own life at the ripe age of twenty-three.

Sometimes he likes to come see what you’re up to. He’s taken to watching you cook breakfast and dinner for yourself. You play music he’s never heard before, and the way you shake your hips always has his heart racing.

Pluto notifies you of his presence, but without an alter burning, he’s pretty sure you can only see his outline at best. You clearly don’t mind an audience, and Hyuck spends hours every week simply enjoying you.

It’s interesting to have a roommate that acknowledges him, a roommate that keeps the peace. But at the same time, part of Hyuck misses his old poltergeist ways.

You’ve reformed him. He’s a reformed ghost now, and Hyuck isn’t quite sure what to make of this peaceful living arrangement. It’s much more peaceful than things had been when he’d been alive.

He’d never had a girlfriend. Never had someone to create a sense of belonging, and somehow, he finds that much-needed peace with you. He wonders what life could have been like if he hadn’t taken those drugs that fateful night, if he hadn’t been so lonely that it hurt everywhere, if he hadn’t tried to dull the ache with pills.

“Come on, Donghyuck,” your voice draws him out of his pining thoughts, and you turn from the soup you’re making to stare in his general direction. “I can see your outline, dance with me. You always just stand there and stare, be a good Ghostie Boy, and shake your ass a little.”

Your words make Hyuck’s skin heat. He’s a ghost for Christ's sake, you can't go around objectifying him like this-

“Just a lil swivel,” you grin, showing him with your own hips.

Fuck. You’re hot. You’re so fucking hot, and Hyuck is tired of pretending you’re not.

He begins to shimmy, and he’s rewarded by a melodic giggle that escapes you and fills the kitchen. “That’s it,” you encourage him. “I know you’re not used to this kind of music, but it’s fun!”

Hyuck has to admit that he’s been enjoying the crash course in new media you’ve been giving him. From music to movies to books he haphazardly reads over your shoulders- this new age is something else, and it’s full of uncensored raunchy sex that makes him hornier than he’d ever been when he was alive.

The music you’re listening to is full of explicit lyrics, lyrics about eating pussy, and a pretty girl riding a man’s face- it’s been driving him wild, and in the late night hours, when you’re peacefully asleep one room over, Hyuck hasn’t been able to help himself.

He’s been stroking himself to the thought of you lately. He’s wondered what you’d taste like, what your body would feel like under his hands- He wonders what faces you’d make, the sounds-

This life is a little bit of Heaven, but a little bit of Hell too.

He can’t touch you, can’t taste you, can’t fuck you the way he’s been wanting to-

Leave it to him to fall in love with a sexy witch and add to his own torment.

Three

Hyuck can hear your whimpers through the wall. The sound makes his entire body tingle, and before he can stop himself, he’s shrugging his jeans down and wrapping his hand around his aching cock.

Your sex drive hasn’t been as… intense as his, in fact, he’s not sure if you’ve ever touched yourself since you moved in. Or maybe, you’ve just been quiet, it’s hard to tell.

When you’re in your room, Hyuck gives you privacy. Pluto would probably alert you to his presence if he ever did try to get a look at you naked, and Hyuck doesn’t want to risk your witchy wrath.

But tonight? Fuck, hearing your sounds makes him want to risk everything.

Going to Hell would be worth it for a look at your form.

The ghost shuffles closer to the wall, taking deep breaths as he strokes his aching cock.

One peak won’t hurt, will it?

Hyuck doesn’t often walk through walls or make use of his ghostly powers, but it’s simple enough for him to push his head through the wall. He just goes as far as his face, keeping himself half-suspended in the barrier between rooms.

Your space is dark aside from a few candles burning, and it takes Hyuck a moment for his eyes to adjust. His gaze lands on you, tangled amidst your bedsheets.

You’re naked, head dipped back against the pillows, one hand between your thighs while the other pinches at your nipples.

Fuck, Hyuck almost busts then and there. He has to stop the motions on his cock, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

Pluto is nowhere to be seen, and with your eyes closed, the room mostly dark, Hyuck doubts you’d see his outline even if you did look directly at the one space along your wall that he’s watching from.

This is the perfect scenario for him, and he licks his lips as he watches the way you tease your clit, letting out soft whimpers.

You’re wet, Hyuck can see how wet you are, and it makes his mouth water with need. His cock throbs as he begins to slowly stroke it again, teasing his thumb along the tip.

The way you’re pinching at your nipples is making the ghost want to mark you up with his teeth. He wants to bury his face in your chest and lick you, sucking your perky-looking buds until you’re begging for him-

A movement of your other hand captures his attention, and Hyuck watches as you slide one finger into your core, releasing a moan that has his entire body shaking.

One digit quickly becomes two, and as you stroke your inner walls, the sound of your wet heat becomes audible to the fly on the wall, who pumps his shaft even harder.

Your hips begin to wiggle against your own touch, and Hyuck wonders how good you’d look on top of him, writhing against his cock-

You release your breast in favor of playing with your clit, both hands now between your beautiful thighs. From the sounds escaping you, Hyuck thinks you’re close, and his entire body aches. He tries to slow himself down, he wants to match your speed, wants to reach that climax with you-

Something brushes by Hyuck’s leg and he jumps, tearing himself out of your room to look down at the cat who’s appeared by his foot. “Fuck, not now, Pluto,” he hisses.

Pluto purs in response, and with an exasperated sigh, Hyuck decides to ignore your cat. Fuck it, he needs to cum, and he needs to be watching you cum-

Pushing his face back into your room, Hyuck manages to catch you just in time to see your back arch. A soft gasp of contentment leaves your lips, your hands shaking as your orgasm rushes over you-

Hyuck can’t help himself, his own body simply reacts, his cock throbbing intensely as his own release hits him. He bites down on his lip, pumping his shaft with his eyes glued to your form.

You ride out your orgasms together, and yet, apart.

You’re a scary witch, but you’re none the wiser about the ghost voyeur committing every one of your movements to memory.

Finally, Hyuck can’t take the sensation anymore, and he stops, pulling his head out of your room. He’s no stranger to ghost cum, it’s this odd, translucent goo-

When he looks down after pulling up his pants, Hyuck realizes he’s sprayed the wall, and narrowly missed Pluto, but the cat is looking at his spunk as if he can see it-

Hyuck’s never had an animal in the house before. He knows that usually, his ghost jizz disappears after a while, but if the cat were to try to touch it-

“Pluto, no!” Hyuck whispers, trying to block the animal with his hands.

The cat has brushed by Hyuck before, so Hyuck’s pretty sure the cat won’t go through his hands-

Instead, Pluto tries to go around Hyuck’s hands, and the ghost’s heart lurches in his cold chest.

“Fuck, stop!” he says, voice getting louder.

The cat meows obnoxiously, and Hyuck hears a sound in your room-

Hyuck doesn’t have time for this, he’s not about to get caught one room over after you’ve just orgasmed. The ghost does the only thing he can think of doing, he jumps down to the ground to hide behind the bed.

Luckily, Pluto seems more interested in him than his ghost cum on the wall, and begins to follow. The bedroom door is pushed open, drawing Pluto’s attention from following Hyuck.

“Pluto?” you call. “What are you doing in here?”

Hyuck can feel his heart in his throat, and he cowers further under the bed, afraid that if you see any of his shadowy figure, you’ll exorcize him or something.

There’s a few moments of tight tension, and then Pluto pads away from Hyuck to join you at the door.

“Silly kitty,” you coo, picking up your pet. “Let’s go make you some dinner.”

The door closes behind you and Hyuck lets out a deep breath.

That had been much too close for him.

Four

It’s been about a week since Hyuck watched you finger fuck yourself to completion, and he’s doing his best to avoid you. He gets a half-chub every time he looks at you for Christ’s sake, and while part of him feels justified in his voyeurism - he is a ghost after all - another part of him feels dirty about it.

Hyuck feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders every time you leave the house, and today, he watches you get into your car and drive off before he heads to your room. He’s been curious about a few things, but you hardly ever leave the property, so he hasn’t had the time and the balls to follow his wishes until now.

Your bedroom door is closed, and it’s as easy as stepping through it for Hyuck to invade your space.

He tries to calm himself, tries to take his time looking at items you’ve collected. There’s a stack of books that thrum with power, he stays away from them. Jewels and crystals litter a vanity table also covered in various perfume bottles, and Hyuck bends down to smell one, overcome by the scent of florals that always follows you through the house. Lastly, Hyuck goes over to the laundry hamper.

The ghost is overjoyed by what greets him. Sitting on top of a pile of sweaters, is a lacy thong. Hyuck sinks to his knees, bending over the hamper and bringing his nose as close to the panties as possible. He takes a deep breath, eyes closing as the scent overwhelms him: this is so much better than florals.

Now he really feels dirty, but there’s something so freeing in it. He’s a dirty little ghostie, and Hyuck is beginning to revel in it.

He’s been a spirit for so many years, and he’s gotten adept at poltergeist-type activity. Sure, he’s usually only ever used it to throw books around, or open cupboards, or… you know, wear bedsheets to scare the shit out of the kids who show up and trespass around Halloween, but… grabbing a pair of panties shouldn’t be that hard.

With a shaky hand, Hyuck reaches into the hamper. He focuses his energy to his fingertips, and after a deep breath, when he touches your panties, he can feel the lace. Hyuck lifts the fabric out of the hamper, collapsing onto his knees next to it and shimmying his pants down.

Then, he wraps his panty-clad hand around his cock, throwing his head back to let out a sigh of relief. There’s something so sexy about jacking off using your underwear as friction- there’s a small, juicy spot along the fabric, and Hyuck’s majorly tempted to lick at it, but he feels like that’s a line he shouldn’t cross.

Instead, he pumps his cock harder, letting out soft whimpers. Hyuck’s head lolls forward again, chin tucked down to his chest. His eyes open so he can stare at your cute panties as he strokes himself off with them, and the sight alone has his dick twitching.

Hyuck grits his teeth, his abdominal muscles flexing with effort. He can’t help but rut toward his hand now, and each stroke of your lacey thong against his aching cock has him closer and closer-

There’s a sound downstairs, and it makes Hyuck’s heart leap in his chest. You’re home again already?

He tightens his grip on his length, determined to cum before he gets caught. He can’t stop now, not when he’s so close to a much-needed release-

As the sound of you coming up the stairs limits his time more and more, the idea of getting caught actually adds to Hyuck’s pleasure. Before he knows what he’s doing, one of Hyuck’s hands is raising to his throat. He throws his head back, applying just a bit of pressure- it’s enough to have him grunting, the cord in his stomach snapping as his orgasm takes over.

Waves of pleasure wash through his entire body, his grip tightening on his throat and making it all the more intense. He can feel his spunk shooting onto your panties, which he holds over his tip as he pumps his aching cock, getting out every last drop-

He can hear you humming as you come down the hall, and in Hyuck’s post-orgasmic haze, he doesn’t have time to think. He simply drops your panties on the floor and stumbles to his feet, stepping through the wall just as your door opens.

He collapses again in the other room, pulling up his pants and trying to catch his breath.

Five

It had been a quick run to get cat food for Pluto, and when you arrive back at your room, you hardly even notice that something is out of place. First, you open your blinds, peaking out at the evening setting sun. Then you go to sit on your bed to take off your socks, as you’re about to toss them to your hamper, you notice something on the floor.

It’s a pair of your lacy panties, and you’re a hundred percent sure they hadn’t been on the floor when you’d left.

With your bedroom door closed, Pluto couldn’t have gotten into your things, which leaves one culprit.

Hyuck.

You’ve suspected the ghost has had a growing crush on you for a while, after all, he is a man who’s been alone in this house for years, but this is your first real evidence of it.

You stand up, going to inspect the out-of-place panties lying next to your hamper. When you bend down, you see a translucent sort of outline, and it’s not your own spunk marring the fabric.

It’s undoubtedly ghost cum, which is the oddest thing to realize- and you’re pretty sure it’s fresh.

Your skin tingles at the notion. Somewhere in this house, Hyuck is coming down from a recent orgasm that he’d clearly achieved by using your panties.

You’re a witch, but this is sinful, even for you.

For a moment, you simply stare at your panties, and then, you decide to do something about it. Going to your Grimoire, you open to a page bookmarked by multiple photos. They’re pictures of Hyuck that you’d found in the attic. You’d saved them for a rainy day when you’d need to contact him with a full-body apparition again, and it looks like today is the day.

Grabbing the largest one, you take the photo and your Grimoire down to the alter in the living room. While you have an alter of sorts in your bedroom, the one powered by the direct sun on your table by the south-facing window is the most appropriate for something like this.

You make quick work of a spell to bind the ghost to the waking world, and with a last few sprinkles of spices and some dried herbs, you place the photo in the center, using a lighter along the bottom edge.

“Hyuck?” you call, turning toward the room. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

You hear someone whisper, “Fuck,” and you turn to see Hyuck scampering toward the staircase.

“Are you seriously going to make me chase you?”

“Don’t exorcize me!” he screams, taking the stairs two at a time.

His words make you laugh. “I have a different type of exercise planned,” you retort, but it doesn’t do anything to slow him down. “Seriously, Hyuck, calm down!”

You make it to the second level, and you know where he’s snuck into. He may have closed the door quietly, but you’ve lived with the ghost long enough to know which room he’s staked a claim over.

Taking an amused breath, you knock gently. “Hyuck,” you sing-song, “I’m not mad. Just let me in.”

“You’re gonna exorcize me.”

You sigh again. “Hyuck, open this door, right now.”

You hate to use your dommy-mommy voice on him, but he’s trying your patience, and you only have as long as it takes for his photo to burn, which, due to your magic, probably gives you about half an hour, give or take.

“If you do not open this door, I will open it for you, and your punishment will be worse,” you warn him.

A moment later, the door creaks open ajar, and you push it the rest of the way.

“I’m sorry,” Hyuck tells you, standing there with his shoulders hunched.

“For what?” you enquire, leaning on the frame and crossing your arms over your chest.

“For running.”

“And?” you prompt.

“For uh…” you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, bowing his head, “for uh… using your panties.”

“Using them how?” You’re kind of enjoying watching him like this. He might have his own weird kinks, but this might just be one of your own.

“Well, you know…” his skin is turning pink.

“I don’t know. I want you to tell me what you did with them. Don’t leave out a single detail you bad ghost boy.”

Hyuck’s gaze lifts to meet yours, but he’s quick to look away again. “Well, I mean, I was just looking at them at first.”

“At first. And then what?”

“Well, I just wanted to touch them.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “I bet you wrapped them around your cock and jerked off with them, didn’t you?”

Hyuck’s ears have turned pink now, and when his hands go in front of his body, you realize he’s trying to hide a half-chub that’s growing in his pants.

The little freak is into this.

God, he’s endearing.

“Admit it,” you instruct. “If you admit it, I’ll go easy on you.”

Hyuck takes a breath. “Yes, I used your panties to cum.”

You study the ghost.

“Good boy,” you say finally. His eyes lift to meet yours, his lips parting. “Come to my room.”

You don’t wait for him to respond, you simply turn and expect him to follow. When you get to your room, you collapse onto the bed.

“Close the door,” you instruct next. “Be a good boy and light my candles for me too.”

As he begins to follow through with your commands, you stretch, letting out a sigh from the feeling of your tight muscles. Then, you lift off your shirt, tossing it at Hyuck while his back is to you, his fingers fumbling with a lighter.

Hyuck freezes, then turns to look at you.

“Have you watched me before, dirty ghostie?” you ask, going to remove your pants next.

The way he swallows tells you everything you need to know.

“Well, you are a bad, naughty, dirty, little ghostie, aren’t you, Hyuck?” you grin, tossing your jeans at him.

Laying in your bra and panties, you watch him finish lighting your candles, then he comes to stand at the foot of the bed, clearly waiting on instruction. He’s trying to cover the front of his pants again, and it makes you laugh.

“Move your hands,” you tell him. “You know, honestly, I’m a little surprised at how easy it was for you to get hard again. You came, what? Ten minutes ago? Fifteen?”

He’s so bashful he can hardly answer, and it’s an adorable sight.

“Here are the rules,” you say, “I’m going to make myself cum. After that, I’ll let you make me cum. And if you can get through all of that teasing without touching yourself, if you can prove to me you’re a good ghostie who can follow instructions, I’ll fuck you. How does that sound?”

Hyuck’s gaze watches your hand slip between your thighs, your legs opening wider, and he unconsciously licks his lips. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay… mistress?”

You laugh at his attempt to please you. “I was looking for a thank you.”

“Right, yeah, thank you, I can follow instructions,” he fumbles to correct himself.

“Then be a good boy and put your hands behind yourself. I don’t want you touching anything. Don’t want you covering anything either, got it?” Your words come out breathy as you begin to stroke your core through your panties. “I especially don’t want to see your hands all shaky, that’s just embarrassing, ghost boy.”

Why are you enjoying this so much? Why are you enjoying the degradation of a man who died over twenty years ago?

From Hyuck’s reactions it’s clear he’s never been spoken to like this. Sure, domination and submission were things back in the day, but there must be something about your specific 2020’s brand of degradation-

Hyuck slots his hands behind his back, letting out a deep breath.

“Good boy,” you coo, pushing your panties to the side so you can touch your pussy directly. Teasing him like this has already made you extremely wet, and it’s easy for you to glide your digits up and down your soaked slit, drawing soft circles on your clit.

“Can you see from there, ghost boy?” you sigh, spreading your legs even wider.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I don’t like Mistress or Ma’am,” you admit.

“I’m sorry.”

If you got him to call you Goddess you’d risk hubris, so instead, you tell him, “Call me princess.”

You’d considered ‘Angel’ as a term of endearment, but with the deities you pay tribute to, even that had felt like a step too far. No, Princess works- You feel like a royal girlie who’s having fun with a servant boy, abusing the power you hold over him, for mutual benefit.

“Okay, princess,” Hyuck breathes, and you can tell from his reaction that he enjoys the feeling of the word on his tongue.

You like the sound of it coming from him too, and you throw your head back, getting more comfortable against the pillows. You tease one of your fingers into your wet hole, stroking your sensitive inner walls.

Hyuck lets out a shaky gasp, and you grin to yourself, keeping your eyes closed so you can enjoy the sensation. Although that doesn’t stop you from saying in a sing-song voice, “You better not be touching yourself, ghost boy.”

“I’m not, princess, I promise.”

“Good ghostie,” you coo slipping another finger into your pussy. You open your eyes to look at him. His gaze is fixed on your core, and he’s got his bottom lip pinned between his teeth. “Is it a nice view?”

“The best view in the whole world,” Hyuck breathes, almost panting.

“Should I make myself cum so you can finally touch me?”

“Fuck, yes please, fuck, yes-” Hyuck’s eyes meet yours, and you see the desperation, it’s practically throbbing off of him in waves. “Please, princess, I wanna watch you cum.”

“You’re being such a good ghostie for me,” you muse, pulling your fingers from your core and holding them out for him, “Come here, have a taste.”

Hyuck falls onto his knees on the foot of your mattress, grabbing your hand with both of his and drawing your digits to his mouth. He sucks on them, his eyes fixed on yours as his tongue licks and strokes your skin, cleaning up every drop of your juices.

“Now back to your spot,” you prompt, pulling your hand away. “The moment I cum, you can join.”

You watch him swallow thickly, and while he doesn’t talk back, Hyuck is clearly reluctant to get back to his feet, standing at the edge of the bed and watching you.

His hands go behind his back, and when he’s in proper form, you slowly slip your panties down your legs. Then, you throw them directly at him. They land on his shoulder, and Hyuck turns to look at them, breathing deeply.

He’s rock hard in his pants now, and the sight turns you on as you bring both hands to your core. You begin to finger yourself while you rub tight circles on your clit, your toes curling at the sensation.

“Hyuck,” you whimper, arching your back, building the pressure deep in the pit of your abdomen.

“Princess-” he echoes, sounding even more desperate than you are.

You open your eyes, staring directly at Hyuck as you work yourself closer and closer-

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him. “Fuck, I’m almost there, almost there, baby-”

Hyuck releases a moan at the new pet name, and you can see him twitching. He’s doing his best to follow your instruction about not moving until you’ve cum, but you can see it’s getting harder and harder-

You let out a gasp, your orgasm slamming into you, and that’s when Hyuck finally pounces.

He wastes no time jumping onto the bed, burying his face between your legs while his hands grab at the flesh of your thighs, fingers digging into your skin. His mouth devours your core as your orgasm surges through you, and each lick and suck has you crying out, muscles tensing as Hyuck intensifies your high.

Your fingers thread in his hair, and he groans when you tug on him, unrelenting in his task of eating you through your orgasm. The ghost is eating you like a man who’s been starved of pussy for twenty years, and you suppose that’s accurate, so can you really hold the whole pantie-sniffing thing against him?

You’re not sure how he does it, but one orgasm that you’d given yourself quickly becomes a second orgasm that Hyuck has coaxed out of you by sucking on your clit, and you gasp loudly as it slams into you, riding the tail end of the first high.

“Fuck, I’m cumming-” you whimper, thighs tensing around Hyuck’s head-

He simply pushes them apart, tongue diving into your hole to stroke your walls as they spasm around him. Hyuck groans, and the feeling of the vibration on your clit has you whimpering even louder, your grip tightening in his hair.

“Hyuck-” you moan, pushing at his head, “I’m done, that was two-”

“I want three,” he tells you, taking his mouth from your pussy so he can suck marks along your inner thighs. “Can I have three? I’ve been a good ghostie for you.”

“You can have three when you bury your cock inside of me,” you tell him with a laugh, your body still buzzing in the after-effects of two orgasms that had happened in quick succession.

“I want three now, and four when I’m fucking you stupid, princess.”

Well, this is a switch-up.

He’d been so subby before, but one taste of your pussy has him trying to be more dominant? Fuck it, you don’t even mind, the words that have just come out of his mouth are too hot to even handle, so you let out a small, whimpered, “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” he prompts, teeth grazing your inner thigh.

“Make me cum one more time with your mouth before you fuck me.”

Hyuck doesn’t waste any time swiping his tongue along your slit again. He flicks at your clit and your thighs shake around his head, your nails dragging softly against his scalp.

Your hips begin to wiggle, and Hyuck looks up at you, holding out his tongue and staying still so you can grind against him. You toss your head back, closing your eyes as you ride his tongue, using him for your own pleasure.

Hyuck groans, tilting forward just enough for his nose to bump your clit, and your muscles clench at the stimulus. You’re sensitive after two orgasms, but fuck, Hyuck feels so good.

“I just want you to fuck me,” you confess, relaxing back against the bed again while Hyuck takes the cue to begin to lick your pussy. “Make me cum so you can fuck me.”

Hyuck practically growls in response, his lips suctioning around your clit. Your legs quiver around his head, thighs squishing in on him- this time, instead of pushing you away and spreading you open, Hyuck allows you to practically crush his skull, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, body beginning to shake as he focuses all his attention on your clit.

There’s no pushing the ghost away, no crushing his head with your thighs- he’s locked in on his target, and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

Your moans fill the space, your back arching as he sucks your clit closer and closer to another high-

Then, out of the blue, one of his hands snakes up to your throat. Hyuck adjusts so he can squeeze your neck, his tongue flicking at your clit, his breath hot against your skin-

The pressure on your throat makes your entire body freeze for a moment, mind short-circuiting- and when you’re able to think again, all you can think about is the pulsing between your thighs as your orgasm crashes into you like a bullet train.

You whimper, the sound obstructed in part by the hand still gripping your throat. Your own hands fly to Hyuck’s wrist, encouraging him to apply even more pressure as you begin to thrash under his touch. Your hips are bucking toward his face, your pussy throbbing like it’s never throbbed before- and there’s not even anything filling you.

Your clit feels amazing, but your poor inner walls have been neglected, you’re aching for something to throb around, aching for an intrusion in your sinfully wet hole-

“Hyuck, please,” you gasp, letting out a shuddery breath when he pulls his mouth from your core, looking up at you. “I need-”

He squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your words. Then he begins to kiss up your body, finally making it to your lips. He stops just a millimeter away, looking down at you as he releases your neck. It’s as if - even after all of this - he’s asking for permission.

You throw your arms around the back of his throat, tugging him the final distance to your mouth. His tongue clashes against your own, and you can taste your pussy there. Your core throbs, and Hyuck begins to grind down against you, rolling his hips expertly.

“Fuck,” you groan, breaking the kiss so you can shove your hands between your bodies, pushing at his pants.

Hyuck, meanwhile, begins to mark up your neck in love bites, his fingers slipping under your back so he can unclasp your bra and tear it off.

You’re naked for him now, and you make quick work of his pants, briefs, and shirt. You’re caught in a whirlwind of need, kisses, and touches. Finally, he’s slotting himself between your thighs again. This time, when he grinds against you, his bare cock glides past your clit, and your legs shake, your fingers clawing at him.

“Do it,” you encourage him, gasping as he kisses your throat. One of your hands snakes into his hair, massaging his scalp. “Fuck me.”

Hyuck reaches between your bodies, grabbing the base of his cock. He begins to tease his head along your pussy lips and you both groan at the feeling. “Princess-” he moans.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m ready, I can take it. You’ve been such a good ghostie being patient for me and making me cum- it’s your turn. Use me, baby, fill me up.”

He’s panting against your neck, and he pulls back to look down at you. You can tell there’s hesitancy, but a need too, and when you grab the nape of his neck to draw his lips to yours, you feel his body immediately relax.

He presses the tip of his cock to your tight hole, and as he kisses you, he begins to push into your pussy.

You groan at the feeling of him. For an average-sized man, his cock is no laughing matter. He’s thick, stretching out your inner walls with each inch that sinks into you.

Your thighs quake around his hips, and Hyuck licks at your tongue, moaning and kissing you until his front is flush with your own.

Only then does he break the kiss, rubbing his forehead against yours. “Princess-”

“I know, baby, it feels good for me too,” you assure him.

He grabs at the pillow next to your head, squeezing it roughly while letting out a shuddery breath.

Your pussy is still throbbing, trying to accommodate his large size, and when he buries his face against your throat, beginning to thrust, your entire body lights up with pleasurable energy.

“Fuck,” you groan, closing your eyes and stroking his shoulders, “Just like that.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you harder and harder until your bed begins to rock against the wall with each rough motion from his hips.

Hyuck continues his barrage on your throat, licking your sweet spot while you mewl into his ear, holding him tight. One of his hands sneaks up between your bodies, grabbing at your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it and panting against your skin.

“Hyuck-” you whimper, pussy throbbing around him, earning a deep groan.

“I don’t know if I can hold it,” he admits, pulling away to look down at you with beautiful chocolate eyes.

“Then don’t hold it,” you tell him. “Just don’t assume we’re done when you’re done.”

His gaze darkens, his plump lips parting in a silent question. Instead of saying anything else, you draw him in for a kiss, wrapping your legs tight around his hips.

The hand that had been on your breast finds your free hand, fingers lacing as he presses you down into the mattress, fucking you even harder.

Each thrust has him hitting perfect spots, and the way he’s rolling your hips adds stimulus to your clit, which throbs with sensitivity.

The throaty moans escaping him are driving you mental, and the way his tongue strokes your own has you dizzy with lust.

Your other hand tangles in his pretty hair, tugging gently, dragging his mouth away from yours so you can begin to speckle his throat with kisses.

Hyuck lets out an absolutely sinful moan, and you realize he’s very sensitive in this area. It makes you want to make it even more, so you begin to suck small purple marks into his flesh while he shakes above you, bicep muscles flinching with effort.

“Keep fucking me,” you remind him. “Want you to cum.”

Hyuck squeezes your hand, his pace picking up again.

“That’s it, ghost boy,” you coo, licking his throat. “Cum for your princess.”

He lets out a strangled gasp, thrusts faltering. A moment later you can feel his cum filling you up, and it makes you moan, your core throbbing with desperation. You need one more high, and you’re sure he’ll help you get it.

Hyuck rides out his orgasm, and then he collapses on top of you, his lips seeking out your own.

You allow him to kiss you for a while, cock still buried deep inside of you. Then, you begin to stroke his body again, making him shiver.

“Can you roll onto your back for me, ghost boy?” you prompt, looking up into his eyes.

Hyuck is quick to comply, and you can tell from the way his lips part, that he’s not expecting you to mount him as soon as he’s on his back. You put his cock back inside of you before any cum can drip out, and you sit there, staring down at him with your hands on his chest.

“Your recharge time is pretty good, isn’t it, ghost boy?” you tease, gently rolling your hips while he whines, grabbing your thighs from the sensitivity. “I bet I could just kiss you for a few minutes, and you’d be rock hard again in no time.”

“Princess-”

“You want to please me, don’t you, baby?” You trail a finger down his chest, teasing your nails across his abdomen and watching the muscles jump there under your touch.

“Yes,” he admits.

“And I think we both deserve to cum one more time, don’t you?”

He nods again.

You lean over him, pretending you’re about to kiss him, as his eyes flutter shut, lips parting in anticipation- you push his face to the side, attacking his neck instead.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, grabbing at your hips, squeezing you.

“Such a sensitive neck,” you muse, lips moving to his ear where you lick the shell, enjoying the way he shudders. “I wonder if I just…” you slip one hand up his chest, and Hyuck immediately arches his head, giving you full access to wrap your fingers around his throat. “That’s what I thought.”

Hyuck whimpers below you, hips pushing up, looking for friction-

“Did that make you hard, ghostie?” you laugh, sitting up and looking down at him. “Just a little choking and you’re already good to go again?”

This poor man has been repressed- you’re happy you’re the one who gets to free him.

You begin to slowly move your hips, and Hyuck lets out a desperate moan, arching his head back even more. You tighten your grip on his throat and he responds by digging his fingers into your hips, urging you to ride him faster.

He looks so good like this.

Then, one of his hands moves, his thumb finding your clit. Your core throbs around him and you both moan loudly. Hyuck opens his eyes, looking up at you.

“You’re being so good for me,” you tell him, rutting faster on his cock. “Make your princess cum.”

He rubs your clit harder, beginning to buck up to meet you while you ride him.

Then, Hyuck pushes your hand from his neck, sitting up so he can latch his mouth onto your breast. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around your lower back and moving you on his cock. His teeth skim your nipple and you cry out, threading your hands in his hair and moaning in his ear.

He groans in response. This new angle has your clit rubbing against him, and you ride yourself to an intense completion, your head thrown back when your orgasm rushes over you.

As you cum, Hyuck flips you onto your back, taking over and thrusting into you with newfound energy. Your pussy throbs around him as he fucks you stupid, and when he buries his face against your throat, marking your skin, he cums too.

You can feel him shoot a second load deep inside of you, coating your walls to the point of nearly being too full, but part of you kind of loves it.

You hold him as he fucks you through your highs, listening to his panting and whining.

Finally, he stops, all but collapsing on top of you, lips feverish against your skin.

You pet his hair, trying to catch your breath.

You’re cognizant of the fact that you don’t have all the time in the world for aftercare, and you’d rather talk with Hyuck now than address a shadow.

“Ghostie?” you whisper.

He releases a grunt.

“We don’t have much time left,” you say sadly.

He pulls away from your throat, looking down at you.

“Listen,” you cup his face, “being interested in a ghost the way I’m interested in you has never been something I saw for myself in this life,” you admit. “But, I am interested in you. I only have so many pictures of you that I can use to make you physical like this, but I’m going to find something to make this longer lasting, I promise. Until I do… I’m okay with you sniffing my panties, or watching me masturbate, or anything you want-”

Hyuck cracks a smile at your words, and you find yourself giggling as well.

“So you’re not going to exorcize me?” he jokes.

“Never ever,” you promise.

“You’re going to find a way for us to be together,” the ghost says softly.

“If anyone could find a way, it’s a witch like me,” you assure him, leaning up to press your lips against his.

He kisses you gently, and you get lost in it.

You’re not sure how long you stay lip-locked, but after a while, the feeling of his lips disappears. You open your eyes to find yourself alone, well- you can still see a shadow of him, but his warmth is gone, and the sensation of his kisses too.

You sigh. “I’ll find a way, ghostie,” you promise.

You’d like to think he responded, maybe with a word of encouragement, but there’s no way to know for sure.

Rolling onto your side, you imagine him behind you, close but unable to physically touch.

Leave to a witch to fall in love with a ghost.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! writing this style of Hyuck was way too satisfying

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🔮 preview. Hyuck kisses you, grabbing your face as he does so. You can taste something unsaid on his tongue, but you do your best to ignore it as he pulls you from the sink, turning you around until your bum hits the island table. He lifts you up, setting you onto the old wood, then, he sinks to his knees. You’re wearing a dress, Hyuck loves dresses, they make it easy for him to have access to your pussy. He’s downright kitty obsessed these days, lifting up your skirt just enough to get under it. His lips make contact with your panty clad core and you let out a sigh of relief, leaning back on your palms and letting your head fall backward.

cw/ tw. Dominant leaning switchy Hyuck, unprotected ghost sex, kitchen sex, sex on a table, pussy eating, fingering, pussy obsessed Hyuck, slight ghost angst, hair pulling, choking, praise, dirty talk, kitchen quickie, multiple reader orgasms, mentions of dark magic/bones, panties as a gag, finger sucking, sex while wearing a dress, etc… I petnames. (hers) princess (his) baby

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.2k I teaser wc. 250

🌙 staring. Hyuck x afab!reader

bonus

The answer to your ghost conjuration problem had been shockingly simple. If burning a picture could draw Hyuck to your existence for as long as it was alight, you realized that burning one of his bones would last substantially longer.

Most crematoriums burn bones at 1000 degrees Celsius for two or three hours. At a much lower temperature, using a Bunsen burner set to 300 degrees, you could burn one small fragment for a lot longer.

The worst part was going to the graveyard across town, with no one but Pluto as company, under the light of the moon in the dead of night to exhume Hyuck’s body. It’s been so long since his death that you weren’t worried about finding anything other than bones in the casket, and with a spell, you didn’t even have to put in the effort to dig- but something about uncovering Hyuck’s supposed ‘final resting place’ just hadn’t sat right with you.

You’d been aware, as you had driven home with a bag full of bones, that you were teetering on the side of a darker shade of magic. But for love, you decided not to care.

The first night you’d lit up a small bone, Hyuck had appeared right behind you, and the two of you had fucked on the floor right next to the altar.

It’s been three or four months since you began to burn Hyuck’s bones, and your lust for each other hasn’t diminished.

He’s insatiable, and you are too.

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