#didn’t take me as Long as usual ! Yay!

[tender-rosiey]

Hi. This is my first time writing arequest so i dont really know what im doing but i love your husband sukuna series and i wanna ask for a husband sukuna with a shy baby daughter bc your sukuna is 🤌

reluctance — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works <33 hope this one is to your liking as well MWUAH 🫶

“come on, d/n,” you coax gently.

your daughter, barely two years old, shakes her head from behind your legs, her tiny hands clutching the fabric of your kimono as she hides from the imposing figure of her father.

sukuna stands at the doorway, his arms crossed, his usual stern expression in place.

“she’s still hiding?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, his deep voice filling the room, though it isn’t harsh.

you kneel, gently petting your daughter’s head, “she’s shy. you know how she gets when you’re around.”

sukuna exhales slowly. he observes your daughter quietly. wide-eyed but cautious, her tiny fingers tightening their grip on you. your daughter was notably quite soft.

it didn’t help that her father, sukuna, didn’t exactly have the most inviting presence.

“come here,” he says, his tone gruff, holding out a hand.

the little girl hesitates, her bottom lip trembling slightly. you place a reassuring hand on her back and whisper softly, “it’s okay” you smile, “that’s your dad; he won’t hurt you.”

at your words, sukuna looks down at your daughter, his daughter.

she looks up at you, then back at sukuna. with the smallest shuffle, she takes one step toward him then sees him quirk an eyebrow which makes her quickly retreat, still unsure.

sukuna clicks his tongue, while you giggle. your daughter clings harder onto you at the sound of his disapproval.

“she sure is jumpy,” he says, stretched hand moving to rest on his hips, “how the hell is that my daughter?”

“ever studied biology?”

“do not get smart with me,” he warns, but his threats have long lost their effect on you.

the little interaction gives your daughter a sense of familiarity, seeing you talk so easily with him. with some courage finally mustered, your daughter blinks up at sukuna, her small voice barely audible as she mumbles, “papa...?”

sukuna’s sharp gaze relaxes just the faintest bit at the sound of her voice, “yes. I’m right here.”

she stares for another moment, before she toddles over to him. she stumbles and holds desperately onto his legs. she looks up at him, and he gives her no reaction.

your daughter takes that as a good sign, and she looks back at you with sparkly eyes.

“there you go,” you laugh, standing up. “see? not so bad.”

sukuna looks at your daughter, then back at you, “you coddle her too much.”

you fold your arms with a playful smirk, “she’s two. she’s allowed to be coddled a little.”

“she’ll be stronger if she learns early.” sukuna’s voice is firm. she is clinging to him now, a little less hesitant as she begins to tug at his kimono.

she lets out small mumbles as she tries to gain his attention.

"uh-huh, sure," you tease, stepping closer and placing your hand on his forearm, "you’re so tough, honey. maybe we should get her a little curse to toughen her up. would that make you happy?"

he scoffs but doesn’t answer, his attention flicking back to the girl holding onto him. you could see the faintest hint of something in his expression, though it wasn’t something he would ever acknowledge verbally.

for some reason, the scene of his daughter faced with a curse, at least in this age, doesn’t particularly please him.

her eyes are soft. her entire being is. there is no way that she would survive, and knowing his little daughter, she will burst into tears the moment the curse appears. that conclusion makes him think.

he stays silent, before he finally mutters, "never mind. she's fine the way she is.”

you beam at his words and pull his face down to place a kiss on his cheek, “aww, you are going soft, yay!”

“I will kill you,” he sneers, but then he feels his daughter raise her arms. he looks down at her with a scowl, “what do you want, you brat?”

the tone makes her flinch back, but then she tightens her fist and stutters, “u-up!”

“you and your mother are insolent,” he side-eyes you, and you raise your hands in surrender. his eyes flick back to her, “you ordering me around?”

her eyes start to water, but she tries to persevere, “up…?”

your husband groans and bends down to pick her up. the way he gives into her demands is sweet in its own way.

it would make you laugh, if he didn’t pick you up in process which instead makes you gasp. now, both you and your daughter are carried—effortlessly—in his arms.

you smile widely at your husband, while he avoids looking at you. sukuna instead looks at you daughter. he then asks, “are you happy now?”

your daughter stares silently at him, and he stares at her back. in the midst all this staring, your daughter realizes something: her dad has a second face.

her lips start quivering, and she raises her hands to cover her face as she starts bawling and wailing

“ugh, why is she crying now?” your husband groans, irked by the sudden loud noise.

“your face probably scares her.”

“I hate kids.”

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[reidmania]

a moment | s. reid

summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.

warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!

an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.

You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.

"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.

you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.

While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.

"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."

"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“

“Don’t even” you cut him off.

“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.

“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.

“You did.”

“No”

He said your name and you huffed.

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"

"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"

You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."

He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"

“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”

It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.

You ignore it. You have to.

"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.

He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.

Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."

"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.

He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."

"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."

His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.

Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.

"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.

"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."

Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?

No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.

"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.

"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"

"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.

"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.

"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.

"Really?"

"No."

You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.

“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”

And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.

You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.

“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.

“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.

“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.

“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”

You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.

"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."

"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."

Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.

But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.

"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.

"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”

"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."

He grins widely, almost daringly.

You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."

“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.

You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.

His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.

You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.

His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."

"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."

Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."

"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."

"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."

As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.

You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"

"I think we share equal blame here."

"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.

You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.

She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.

So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.

It’s Spencer.

He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.

“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”

His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”

“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.

“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.

You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”

He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”

You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”

He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”

You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”

His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”

Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.

“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”

Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”

The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.

Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.

He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”

Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.

The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.

When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.

Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.

Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.

“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless

You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.

This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.

You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.

He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”

You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”

Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”

His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”

The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.

“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”

His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”

You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”

Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.

“Because, there was a moment.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.

[persicipen]

afternoon red ノ kamisato ayato

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 1.4k ノ fem reader — explicitly being called a wife and a girl ノ your first attempted assassination after getting married yay ノ going through shock . hurt comfort . lowkey fear of pda ノ sappy bonding with your new husband ノ i was fueled by @euthymiya and @tetsuskei and their ayato thoughts (i hope you don’t mind being tagged) <3

The commotion sprawling down the stairs of Ritou was not usual at this hour. Just as unexpected in its intensity. It couldn’t relate to any festivals (there were none happening at this time of the year), nor could it be a new batch shipped from across the seas (the earliest arrival scheduled for the next week).

As if interested, red maple trees lean and let their crimson leaves whisper gossips with each other, circling in the warm wind that seems to stop its natural journey in favour of entertainment.

You’re in the middle of all this — a centre of attention, pairs and pairs of wide-open eyes blinking at you and too many hands touching, grabbing you to straighten you up as if not caring that your legs feel like wet cotton or that you still try to look around in shock. It’s hard to focus your vision and everyone looks like vague iridescence of colours. You cling to the image of your newlywed husband as if it’s the only thing keeping you afloat among the hustling crowd, being the raging sea. How long have you two been together? But a short while, no more.

Him. Just him. With furrowed brows, with eyes narrowed, that only enhanced the wrinkles in their corners. A flash of temper escaping the façade of forever calm commissioner. The inside of his arms was safe, but whoever remained outside should face the imminent consequences of endangering your life and angering the lord. This kind of protection, devotion, was unknown to you. It felt almost just as invading and you wanted to push it away.

This sudden emotion sways into your veins, it numbs your tongue and mind — so heavy, it feels almost tangible.

You merely escaped death.

It all happened so quickly you didn’t even get to register the attacker’s face before the city’s patrols dragged them away — unsure if for your sake or to save their life for the interrogation before the commissioner could weigh himself with a crime of murder. And he was more than ready, steeled like a tight string, with his hand resting on the handle of his sword.

“The police officials and the medic should arrive soon, Lord Kamisato.” Someone informs, but you can’t even get a glimpse of their face, tucked snugly against the side of your husband. “Is there anything we can do for you in the meantime?”

“You’ve captured the perpetrator. You’ve done enough, and I thank you for that. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I wish to take my wife somewhere less busy. It’s not a… an expected occurrence for her… yet,” he responds in his usual fashion. Someone else mutters out an order about informing his sister and the rest of the estate too, but all words sound like they come from underwater.

Besides that, there are only his hands roaming up and down your arms, hoping to chase away the chill settling deep inside your bones. Even with the light breeze around and the crowd gathering to see what happened, sweat breaks on your forehead.

As you go down the stairs to the quiet corner, holding onto the safest arm in the world, the air finally clears up for you to catch a breath. Yet it does nothing to stop your head from spinning. Or your stomach churning in an attempt to leave your body. Your eyelids flutter but can’t force themselves shut, vision filled with small black dots that block out pieces of scenery, slowly replacing everything.

“Beloved, I’m here.” You hear his voice, steady and barely above a whisper, securing you in place before you dissociate.

Two hands cup your face. They’re cold without the delicate leather gloves, but they hold you with much care.

“Breathe with me. Slowly.” Your husband closes his eyes, leading you. He inhales and exhales and it doesn’t take long for you to feel at ease, matching your breathing to his.

He only opens his eyes after you exhale deeply, no longer hiccuping for air like a fish out of water. What a tragedy it would be to lose such a pretty koi, so young and not yet held long enough for him to accept being separated from you.

The sun illuminates his features, highlights the contours of his cheekbones and draws sharp shadows along the edge of his jaw.

Even now, in an hour as grey as this, he shines like silver. The most precious being you could ask for.

His thumb grazes your lips in a soothing motion, scooping the tears that gathered in the corners of your mouth.

“You’re safe. And for that, I am so glad. My dear wife is well, merely shaken.”

It becomes difficult to not touch him when the breeze that always blows towards the harbour makes his hair fly back and tangles up strands on the right side of his face. It also screams improper in public, even if it’s just patrols turned their back to your side, probably giving you two some time to calm down before a medic arrives to check for any possible damage.

Your hand, ever so naturally, lifts up to do what you wish to — pulling away the wayward locks, brushing them back behind his ear, locking them between your fingers and admiring how soft they are. The gesture, mayhaps not unexpected, but still devastating in its tenderness, causes him to break the perfectly even breathing, a small hitch of his inhale as he leans just an inch towards your touch.

He presses his lips to your palm, taking his time to place a kiss on each knuckle, relishing in how soft your skin is, the uniqueness of your taste, a bitter tint of fear now cutting through the usual sweetness, and the smallest twitch of muscles wherever his mouth ghosts over them.

He watches as a couple of tears slide down your cheeks and that beautiful shudder he knows so well, bringing about a mellow smile that can only be seen as adoring.

“I’m so sorry, my lord. Please, do not worry any longer. It’s— like you said, I’m merely shaken.” You snivel, trying to get a hold of yourself for it’s shameful to cry again, especially after he had the courtesy of wiping your previously shed tears. You lower your gaze, away from him, in hopes he will let this pathetic side of yours be ignored.

And so he does the exact opposite.

He cups your face again and his slender fingers push your chin up just slightly, leaving no room for hesitation and making it impossible to deny his presence, even if your eyes stay glued to everywhere but him.

“Look at me.”

You follow instinctively, unable to ignore your husband’s command.

In the afternoon light, there are so many details of his appearance that you only catch during rare moments like this — how ethereal he seems when the crimson sunset paints the world in gentle golds and coppers, intertwined yet never merging with the pastel colours of his robes and features.

He hums, satisfied that he got your attention.

You wonder if this act of impropriety, still going on between you two in the secluded corner between the buildings instead of performed behind the closed doors of the bedrooms, is exactly what made his skin burn under your touch, too.

Again, he guides you in deep breaths, lulling you into the security of being together, whole. It’s obvious behind his touches how his resolve stays iron, yet the desperation crawls in each of his movements, denying himself the pleasure of just fondling your face like the most adorable baby animal. He allows you to relish in his gestures until he comes back to his senses, that buzz inside his head louder than the bells at the temple — that this is not what you two should be doing now.

“You’re a brave girl. I wouldn’t expect any less from my sweet wife. Come, let’s meet the medic and talk with the officials. The sooner we’ll be done with formalities, the sooner we can return to the estate.”

He gently leads you away, not breaking the contact as much as possible — holding your hand, supporting your lower back with his free one.

How hard it is for him to control the mere touches. If he could, he would never let you go, for once he let you go run in front of him and one unfortunate accident almost took you away forever. He saw how your pretty robes fluttered in the late summer wind, but instead of being the light, flowy fabric it could have ended stained with dark blood.

And this he will never allow.

[pure-smut]

daddy.

featuring: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

contains: sneaky s*x, doggy, creampie, rough s*x, use of 'daddy' (ofc), unprotected s*x

word count: 1k

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

masterlist

a/n: yay ty for this request! i'll do a separate one for 'mommy' bc that has yuji written all over it lmao enjoy daddy toji!!

@shinysp4rk

You’re at a dinner with your parents in their house with your boyfriend, Toji Fushiguro, so you know you shouldn’t act up. But when Toji’s sitting right next to you and he’s wearing that tight black shirt…

You really can’t help yourself.

You’ve been reaching under the table to squeeze his thigh throughout the starter, reaching slowly up higher and higher until it’s the main course and your hand is practically over his dick.

Toji’s been shooting you warning glances all night, trying hard to make small talk with your parents – not an easy feat for him at the best of times – but you’re relentless. When you reach up a little higher and palm his bulge through his jeans, Toji nearly jumps out of his seat.

He coughs a little too loudly, rising to his feet suddenly and strategically holding his napkin in front of his crotch.

“Uh, excuse me for sec,” Toji says, nodding apologetically to your parents before shooting you an angry look and walking out.

You hear him stomp upstairs to the bathroom.

“Sorry, he’s had a hard day at work,” you say with a shrug. “I’ll go check on him.”

Your parents exchange a look but nod agreeably as you follow Toji upstairs. He’s just coming out of the bathroom when you bump into him, a scowl on his face. Your eyes slide down to the obvious bulge in his jeans, a grin crawling across your lips.

“You didn’t manage to get rid of it?” you tease.

“It’s a process,” Toji growls back. “It’s going down and so help me god if you do anything to bring it back up-”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt sweetly, sidling up to him to smooth your hand over his large chest. “Have I been bad, daddy?”

Toji’s not a man who’s easily caught off guard – in fact, he’s always one step ahead of you, always knows what you’re about to do before you do it.

But not this time.

Toji’s lips part and you feel him freeze under your touch.

“What did you just call me?” he chokes out.

“Hmm?” You play innocent, running your hand from his chest down his hard stomach, lifting yourself onto your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Daddy?”

Toji moves like lightning, snatching your wrist and dragging you down the hall. You barely have time to protest before he’s pushing you face first against the wall, his hand curled around the back of your neck to pin you in place. Toji’s other hand makes quick work of your panties, reaching under your dress to pull them roughly down.

He runs his fingers across your folds, testing how wet you are. You squeak in surprise at the feeling and his hand tightens around your neck.

“Stay fucking quiet,” Toji says lowly against the shell of your ear. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Your parents are downstairs, remember?”

You swallow thickly, hearing the muffled conversation between them in the dining room below your feet.

“You that desperate for daddy’s cock, hmm?” Toji continues, keeping his voice just above a deep whisper. “Actin’ up, teasin’ me, like such a needy little slut.”

You nod as much as you can, trapped between Toji’s large hand and the wall.

“Y-Yes, daddy,” you whisper back. “W-Want your cock.”

“Yeah, I can tell, fuck.” Toji smears your slick against your lips, in awe of how wet you are. “We need to be quick, princess, but I’ll give you a nice, long fuck tonight, hmm?”

“Yes, daddy, please.” You push your hips back, seeking him. “Please.”

“That’s a good girl.”

You feel Toji push his thick tip past your lips and brace yourself. He doesn’t usually let you take all of him without some prep first but you don’t have time for it right now. Still, when he pushes himself in, you have to bite your lip hard to keep from squealing out loud.

You stretch to accommodate him quickly, his girth pushing against all the nerves inside you as he fills you with his cock. Toji can feel you tense up so he reaches around under you to start playing with your puffy clit.

“Relax, baby,” he breathes against your ear. “Let me in.”

You exhale a shaky breath and try to force yourself to relax around him, the feel of his deft fingers on your clit making it easier.

Toji starts pump slowly, only going halfway so you don’t make any noise from skin slapping against skin. Even his shallow thrusts are enough for your breathing to turn ragged, his cock dragging along the nerves at your entrance combined with the tight circles he’s making on your clit.

Below you, you can hear the sounds of cutlery clanging against plates and footsteps as someone walks into the kitchen.

“Fuck, princess, daddy’s gotta be quick,” Toji groans in your ear, picking up speed.

You’re squeezing him so tight, your needy little hole massaging his cock in a way that’s making it hard for him to think. He wants to make you cum, wants to hear the desperate little noises you make as he draws orgasm after orgasm out of you, but that’ll need to be for later.

Right now, he’s painfully hard and on the brink of his own euphoria.

“You want daddy’s cum?” Toji’s cock throbs at his own words.

He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he unleashes himself inside you, cock twitching as he spurts thick ropes of cum deep in your dripping pussy. You both stay there for a moment, stifling your heavy breathing, as Toji presses kisses against your shoulder.

“Clean yourself up quickly before your parents notice,” he instructs, before kissing your neck. “And definitely call me that again tonight.”

masterlist

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

New Homes | Platonic Yandere Tweels x Child Reader

“From today on (Y/n), you’ll be hanging out with the Leech family so please…be on your best behavior.” 

Your father was always a little timid. Always speaking with a little quake in his voice. His eyes were always wide darting around. His softer hands like to shake as well. Always wavering even when he held you tight. 

Your father is timid. which is why he warns you when he leaves you with the Leech family. Babysitters always make him nervous. It must be because there are two this time—two babysitters with lopsided haircuts and smiles filled with sharp daggers for teeth. 

“Hello little (Y/n), we’ll be sure to take good care of you.”

“Oi (Y/n), you a swimmer?”

The twins were nice…for teenagers. Other teenagers you knew would sooner shove your head underwater than help you tread it. Other teenagers also didn’t jump at the chance to fight people but that was other teenagers. Not the Leech twins. 

“(Y/n), I told you not to look at Floyd when he’s doing that.”

“But that guy is still holding onto our ice cream.”

“We’ll have some at home. Don’t point at him it’s rude.”

Jade is the twin with his bang on the left side of his face. He’s proper and polite, always doing his best to keep you on schedule. Helping you with your homework when he notices you’re struggling or reading to you when it's time to sleep. 

“Let me blow your nose.”

“Mmm okay.” 

“Good job. Are you ready to go over the edible mushrooms again?”

“Mm okay.”

Floyd is the twin with a yellow left eye and a pitchy voice. He’s loud and silly, always doing fun things that make the day exciting like running in the halls of the manor or playing tickle-monsters when you’ve been working too long.

“I just have to finish these sheets and then I can play!”

“Boooriing!  Let’s just play now!”

“B-but Jade said–”

“Jade can make you catch up later! Let’s get our water guns!”

“Yay!”

They were always so much fun to be around, even work wasn’t so bad with them around. They made a place for you in their giant home. Giving you a room as big as your living room back home, which you slowly filled with the larger souvenirs from your days together.

Speaking of home, it was becoming harder to recall. Trying to remember when you thought of your home if the bathroom was to the left of your room or your father’s. It was an odd feeling that sat at the back of your mind when you looked at the glow-in-the-dark ceiling art. Consciousness fading in and out it didn’t stop your brain from planting the seed of curiosity.

“Why…am I at their house so much?”

Usually, the answer would have been simple. Your father worked late so you had babysitters. But you didn’t go to their house usually. They also didn’t feed or play with you as long as they did but that was beside the point. 

“(Y/n), you’re playing with your food.”

“Oh sorry Missus Leech.”

You made quick work of the beans on your plate, enthusiastically scarfing down what you could. It didn’t feel right to disappoint Missus Leech, while she never once yelled; there was just this feeling about her. One that called for respect. 

“Take your time, (Y/n). I was only worried you’d drift off to sea.”

Looking up at her, tilted your head in confusion.

She let out a giggle. The adult kind that made you feel embarrassed. Looking at Jade, he had an amused smile too, “She means your mind, (Y/n).”

“Oh, I guess a little.”

“What’ya thinkin’ about elver?”

Floyd spoke between bites of food, reminding you to do the same. 

“I just think I miss my home a little bit.”

Taking another hefty bite you missed the disdain on someone’s face. A purposeful cough brought your attention up to the patriarch at the head of the table.

“How are those new shoes we bought together?”

Lighting up at the memory of your new shoes, you barely finished chewing. 

“So cool! Everyone at school thought they were nice too! And I got so many compliments.”

The older man laughed, nodding his head. “Good. Good. Maybe we should go shopping again soon.”

“Okay!”

Dinner went on like usual with dessert ending your time at the dinner table. Letting Jade and Floyd lead you to your bathroom to begin your nightly routine. You fought off the urge to yawn while Jade helped you brush your teeth, failing when he told you to spit. 

“It’s always nice when Mama and Papa come back from trips.” 

Floyd spoke with his back lying on the giant bed, filled with stuffed animals and pillows. He was tossing your clowned fish stuffy in the air catching it with ease. 

Jade still smiling continued buttoning up your pajamas, “Yes, it seems like the trip went well.” 

He looked at you, reminding you to follow him to your bed. “What about you (Y/n)? Did you miss them?”

Your eyelids were feeling heavy. You rubbed them to try to wipe the feeling away.

“Uh yeah.”

Helping Jade shuffle your stuffies around to make a place for you a knock at the door was heard. Floyd must have opened it because by the time you turned Missus Leech was there.

“Mama!” 

Rubbing at Floyd’s head she waved to you and Jade.

“Hi there! I was wondering if I could join you for bedtime?”

You couldn’t tell if The question was for you but if it was Jade answered anyway.

“Of course, Mother. We were just about to read their bedtime story.”

Tucked in next to Missus Leech you let yourself lean against her as she flipped through the pages of the book. Letting her words soothe your mind with the familiar words. Jade and Floyd were close by too making you comfy enough to go to sleep.

When the story was done, everyone gave you goodnight kisses before heading for the door. With the last of your energy, you remembered something important.

“Floyd, are you picking me up tomorrow or Daddy?”

________________________________________________________

The teenager was squeezing the fleshy cylinder shape with an intensity strong enough to bend metal. The crunching and squelching of a man’s neck barely brought comfort to Jade as he continued to squeeze his hands.

“There there Jade, these things take time. It was optimistic that they’d forget by now.”

Unfortunately, the words of his father didn’t calm him down. He headed over to his next target, this time allowing them to throw a punch. Dodging the punch he cradled their hand, maneuvering his arm around until it snapped in the opposite direction. The screaming that followed would have curdled blood for most but it was a lesser result to Jade. Who ended it quickly with a firm kick sent backward and into the skull. The crunch that followed and the abrupt cut to the scream allowed the Leech twin to breathe. 

“I knew they wouldn’t forget. Despite all the work we’ve done. But they still expect him to come.”

His father stepped forward, avoiding the bodies to place a comforting hand on Jade’s shoulder.

“Perhaps he still does…to them.”

Jade’s eyes widened, the implication bringing a stark realization. He turned to his father, his yellow gaze answering the unspoken question. 

To think that with all the work he was saddled with, the sniper still hadn’t abandoned his child. The likelihood was slim but possible. There were quite a few blind spots when it came to the school. Jade had previously ignored them because of the promised security of their contract with the one who wanted him dead. But it seems that wasn’t all they needed to worry about.

“Do you think he plans to take them again?”

“I’d hope not,” entering the warehouse was Fiona Leech having traded out her evening dress for a jumpsuit and shoving a receiver of a baby monitor in her pocket, “our little elver is just about to be settled. It’d be cruel to try moving them again..”

“I don’t think he cares at this point,” Jasper Leech suggested. Pulling out a revolver, he casually aimed and shot the two people tied in the back of the warehouse. He continued, “I hear he’s been getting sloppy with the jobs that one has so graciously allowed him to fix.” 

Jade balanced himself wiping his shoe clean with a rag, chiming in himself. 

“Now he’s trying to go back on his word. Absolute scum.”

“I’d hate for us to pull them out of school, more change is not what that kid needs.”

“I wouldn’t mind limiting my club activities to partake in homeschooling.”

His mother held his face patting his head fondly as she cooed,” You’re a good boy Jade but you have your new job and all those plans I wouldn’t want you to give that up.”

Jasper sighed, scratching the well-groomed stache on his face. “Guess that means we’re ending our contracts early.”

“Seems so…..Now Jade go on get to bed you have school in the morning.”

“Yes, Mama.”

______________________________________________________________

The shade was nice on sunny days. The coolness that came with the blackened space near the fence was like heaven. The spot was farther away from the plastic playground and the other children running all throughout. Minutes ago, you were just like them running wildly at a more loose game of sharks and minnows. 

Past the wood-chipped ground was the back of the school building where the teachers were chatting. Disappearing between the rectangular windows, their attention was on something inside. Distracted enough not to scold you for stepping away from the others. The triumph of your expert timing was the true prize. Relishing in the leaves of the trapezoid-shaped bushes pushing through the fence. Crunchy, tickling, and overgrown the feeling against your back was a minor trait of this sacred place. 

There was also the oddly pressing poke of something warm coming through the hole of the fences. Turning to confirm your suspicions, you smiled.

“Hi, Papa.”

“Hello, my Starlight!”

Turning around to mirror his position you laid on your tummy to look him in the eye. His tactical glasses were off and his hair had changed. His longer hair was gone, traded out for a faded cut. Different but still your father. You let his larger gruffer fingers hold your own through the fence, his hands for once not shaking. 

“Can I tell you all about my adventures?”

“Of course.”

He let you rant, smiling and nodding all along to all your different adventures. You even took off your shoes and showed him the flickering lights in its soles. He waited until you were out of breath before asking the question again.

“Would you like to come with Papa, this time?”

You hesitated kicking your feet against the wooden chips of the playground. 

“Are we going back to our home?”

“...No.”

Tilting your head,” Then are we going to the Jade and Floyd’s?”

The names made him shudder as he hurriedly shook his head. 

“W-we’re going someplace new….”

“Where are we going?”

He rubbed at his eyebrows. He was getting annoyed. But you knew you had to ask otherwise you’d be brought somewhere you hated. Like that one time.

“(Y/n) you’re curiosity is great but—”

“Does where we’re going have a bed? Does it have a kitchen? Are we going to be only eating the gas place’s sandwiches?”

He scrunched his hands into his hair, grasping for his non-existent flowing hair. His lips were quivering and his eyes were watering. It made you nervous, sitting up from your tummy and on your knees. You sent a look over your shoulder at the window–the teachers were still occupied. Looking down at your father, you silently sighed as you got into character.

“Hirano wherever you're taking that little Starlight, it better be the best place for a kid. Those Leech’s are makin’ sure they're on time at school, they're well-fed, and I haven’t gotten a call from protective services for a good while.”

“I know! I know Mama but they won’t let me leave. I screwed up! I screwed up really bad! If I don’t do another job for that guy, he’s going to have my head! B-but I want to go back to normal! I want to spend my days helping (Y/n) with homework and coming home and watching those silly cartoons with my Starlight–”

Your heart was aching and your eyes were getting watery. You waved a hand at your eyes and cleared your throat sticking your hand through the hole to hold his. 

“Y-you’ve got to get your ducks in order before you take your Starlight back–”

“But Mom!”

“Don’t but me…Starlight is safe. You’ve got to make sure you are too before you take them back.”

“But the debt I owe…it’s so big and their patience is thin. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back….”

Taking a deep breath, you went back to your original position on your tummy. 

“Papa, I’m always going to be here. Safe and waiting for you. So you can go on your work trip I don’t mind.”

He smiled at that reaching through the gate to affectionately bop you on your nose. 

“That’s right…I’m just on a work trip. I’ll be back before you even notice. I’m gone!”

He began to scooch away but you stopped him calling for him to come back to the fence. You kissed his forehead and he kissed yours.

“I’ll….see you when you got back Papa….”

“Yup! You know it! If you need anything just ask your grandma, okay?”

“...Okay…”

Like that, he disappeared. 

You were left to stare at the disfigured leaves and dying branches. Burning the memory of his face into your mind.

“(Y/n)! Your brother’s here to pick you up.”

It took you a minute before you stood up again. Frantically wiping at the water streaming from your eyes, you waited until your throat was no longer croaky to finally respond.

“Coming!”

It was all a blur, saying goodbye to your friends and packing your backpack. The memories of the sweet older lady you used to spend so much time with. She taught you how to help your father, explaining the work he was in. It made your head hurt. Thinking about it now, you can say that’s why you stay at the Leech’s house so much.

“Ready to go little elver?”

“Yeah,” you stuck your hands up while he brought you up higher supporting you with his arms. You didn’t want to but you let your gaze fall on the disfigured spot in the bushes behind the playground fence. 

Floyd glared at the spot.

“What’s over there, (Y/n)?”

Visualizing him one last time. You’re glad you could say goodbye. Curling your head into his uniform’s collar, you blinked your extra tears away. 

“Nothing anymore…let’s go home, please.”

You missed the smile on Floyd’s face, laughing to himself as he made his way to the family car. 

“As always, little elvie!”

[princessbrunette]

all of a sudden, jj suddenly felt severely underdressed in his black muscle tank and cargo shorts. it’s not that he hadn’t been in a strip club before, he’d just never come to see pogue!bunny!reader at her place of work.

you’d left your shoes at the chateau after one of the many infamous pogue parties that you’d been invited to. if it were any other kind of cheap shoes, you’d probably just said forget about it. but for some bizarre reason, you’d worn some of your prettiest shoes that cost you an arm and a leg from the bills thrown your way at the club, so you’d been damned if you let those just get tossed in the trash because guys don’t know the value of things.

jj had actually used it as an excuse to slide into your instagram dms. shooting you a super casual ‘hey, left your shoes at the chateau. want em back?’ to which you responded ‘my hero!!!! <3’ and so on. anyway, the agreement was — he’d bring your shoes to you on your break.

it’s not as grimy on the inside as it is on the outside, but he doesn’t have much time to look around before he’s hearing the slapping of bare feet through the hallway — and suddenly a scantily dressed figure is throwing itself into his arms in the dimly lit space.

“holy— jesus christ.” he catches you anyway, though you can tell he doesn’t know where to put his hands, settling on the fat just beneath your ass. he swore you were put on this earth to tempt him.

“you came!” you smile in that melodic voice, unhardened by your surroundings. hell, he nearly did come.

“well, you called.” he shrugs, trying to be all nonchalant about it. he swings the shiny pink heels around his fingers and you squeal, taking them from him. “yeah— so, uh— if that’s all i could probably just see myself ou—” he juts a thumb towards the exit, going to stuff one hand in his pocket and missing all together as he backs away. he wasn’t sure why he was being so awkward, aside from the fact you were just stood infront of him wearing a tiny little triangle bra and a g string.

“stay!” your brows furrow adorably and it physically pains his chest, infact — he’s pretty sure he had a physical reaction, face screwing up with a wince. how does one tell the girl he’s attracted to that if he stays any longer he will pop a hard on? “s’the least i can do. come watch the show. i can hook you up with wings and some beers for free?” you bat your faux-lashes, the glitter on your cheekbone glowing in the low lighting as you tilt your head sweetly, putting on a show to convince him.

“wings, beer n’ boobs? you’re talkin’ my language young lady.” he smirks, unable to hide his usual ways and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“yay, follow me!” you grip his hand, long acrylics scratching against his wrist and he rolls his lips together, eyes practically following each jiggle of your ass cheek as you walk before he even realises he’s in the main section. you settle him in, a little booth that usually probably occupies pervy businessmen— which really makes the blonde feel out of place. he came alone, and now he was sat here — occupying a booth. what kind of creep comes to watch strippers alone?

he’s about to jump up and make up an excuse to leave in pure embarrassment, but you’re smoothing your hands along his shoulders, batting your lashes and telling him you wish you could stay and chat but you’ve gotta go dance, and that his wings and beer will be coming soon. he blinks at you, under a trance and settles into the worn and suspiciously sticky leather arm chair.

soon you’re up on that stage and he wants to sink into the fucking ground. you’re unbelievably hot, and now it’s like something out of a porno he made in his mind, watching you saunter around the pole, dropping down to the ground and arching your back, shaking the meat of your ass effortlessly as faceless men throw money your way. he had nothing to throw but some receipts and old nickels in his pockets and he didn’t think you’d appreciate that — which didn’t matter anyway, because he was somewhat stuck to his seat.

he lifts his hands to adjust his cap before realising he’s not wearing one, and just as he realises his dick is sitting hot, heavy and hard in his shorts— you’re off stage, bounding over with everything jiggling. lord help him.

he thinks he might die when you clamber confidently onto his lap, straddling him front on.

“so how was it jayj did you like it? i know it’s a lil’ weird seeing me up there, i’m your friend n’all but was the song choice good atleast?” you tilt your head like a befuddled puppy dog before wriggling around— crotch to cock. “oh, nevermind. i can feel that you’re like super hard so i take it that you liked the show!” you smile, like you’d just said the most innocent sentence in the world. jj blinks, lips agape.

“uh— y—no, yeah it was… well, y’know. the body doesn’t lie.” he bucks his hips lightly in gesture before immediately internally questioning why he’d do something so creepy. luckily, you giggle — but he’s not sure if it’s because you liked it or because you’re well trained.

“well, next time you get paid come get a lapdance i’ll fix that problem jayj, even give you a discount.” you let that giggle slip through again, but there’s a breathiness to your tone that feels all too real. his brows jump up, eyes flickering unashamedly to your tits as you lean forward to his ear. “or jus’ get me drunk again next weekend? will probably do it for free ‘cus i like you.” you admit, looking all nervous when you pull back. you just shook your ass on stage, yet jj maybank was making you flustered.

“for sure. yeah uh— can… can definitely do that. yep.” he plays it calm and collected, sees you out with another bone crushing hug against your tits before speed walking to his company truck that he drove over here. his shift was over, so he wasn’t rushing to get back to work. moreso to beat off in the parking lot thinking about pulling that g-string of yours to the side.

[maxlarens]

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,�� Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely. 

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

[slushycoookie]

Put A Ring On It ~ Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader 18+

★Word Count: 2.6k ★Content: You and Miguel try out some cock rings, praise kink, role switch between you and Mig, oral sex, vaginal penetration ★A/N: Starting off my sex toy series with something "light"! I hope you all enjoy it, took me a lot longer to write this. If you all want to be tagged for next ones, let me know! Dividers by @/rookthornesartistry

Masterlist | Commissions

You've been staring at him for the past ten minutes.

Miguel noticed right away when you kept idling by the hallway to the living room, wanting to ask him something but proceeded to do anything but that. He was curious but wanted to play the game a little bit longer. So he continued to read his book.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore when you approached him, hands behind your back.

“Took you long enough.”

“Be quiet.” You muttered as he chuckled, putting his book to the side so you have his full attention. “I wanted to ask you something…”

“Clearly,” Miguel says, brushing off your glare.

“This is serious.” You're trying to persuade him, even though he would do whatever you ask.

“Okay, well tell me.”

Immediately you show him a bunch of mini packages filled with rings- not the rings worn on the finger. These were of silicone material and in different colors. Miguel immediately knew what these were. “Can we try these out?”

“The cock rings?”

“Yeah! I got a bunch of different sizes. And you're a pretty girthy guy so I gotta make sure they fit.”

Miguel was holding back his ability to blush at how forward you were. He wished you would return to stalking him from the hallway, “If they don't fit, you have to take them back?”

You shake your head, “No, but don't worry about that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Miguel.” You shimmy, getting antsy about not receiving a yes or no answer from him.

“Okay. I guess it's good to test them before we… use them.”

“Yay!” You jump with joy, saying you'll be right back as you suddenly disappear. A silence loomed over him as he wondered what he had gotten into. He didn't have much time to regret if he wanted to as you returned with the rings wrapped in a towel and a bottle of lube.

“Get hard.”

Miguel laughs, “I know we've been married for a few years but I can't just get hard on command.”

“Your little friend says otherwise.” He facepalms at the small imprint in his pants. It was the cock ring talk, that's all.

You sit next to him, ring in one hand and some lube in the other. “Let me know if it gets too tight, okay?

He nods and watches you slick up his length before placing the ring on it. Currently, it was loosely placed around the base of his cock. The ring looked a little funny since you had chosen pink out of all colors.

Miguel didn’t get to laugh about it with you when your lips pressed along his neck. He immediately tilted his head to give you more access. Your soft lips left an invisible mark on his skin. His hand clenched around nothing while the other was on the small of your back. Nostrils take in your natural scent, ready to be absorbed by you.

A tightness formed around his cock. He glanced down at the ring fitting against his shaft and blinked.

“Does that look…bigger to you?”

You look down, “Oh yeah. The website said the rings do that.”

“Ah.” Miguel shifts, trying to tear his eyes away from how big he is. He was usually big but now he's huge.

“Does it hurt?”

He grunts when you run your thumb around the tip, collecting some pre cum. “No. Not at all.”

“Good.” You give him a reassuring kiss but he pulls you in for a deeper one, hand inching down to the curve of your ass. It lasts for a second as you pull away, “Miggy, we got a few more to do.”

“I'm sure they all fit. I trust your judgment.”

You dodge his advances, your index finger on his lips. “You get some after we're done.” He sucks his teeth but obliges, not wanting to ruin your plans. “Now, think of something nasty. You need to soften up again.”

“I don't know what that is.” He rolls his eyes.

“Don't be difficult.” You flick his shoulder, “Remember that time Peter explained to you in detail what Mayday's vomit looked like when she was sick?”

Miguel held his face in his hands, “Please don't remind me-”

“Like I'm talking the color, down to the texture of the vomit.”

“Okay, okay I get it.”

You glance down and he isn't as erect to your satisfaction. So you slip the cock ring off to grab the other one. Another simple ring, in a different color, black, with the same silicone material.

Instead of kissing his neck, your hands go under his shirt, stroking the hairs of his happy trail. He lets out a low groan at your teasing. Your eyes stare back at him with a glimmer of lust. And he knows you'd want to go all the way if you didn’t have a goal in mind.

“You're doing such a good job for me.” Your cooing words unexpectedly make him shiver.

“Don't say that…”

“Say what? The truth?” Your hand glides up to his pectorals, a thumb across his nipple while you still gaze at him. “My wonderful husband is doing a great job trying new things. You don't usually jump to explore new options. I'm proud of you.”

As you speak, your nails drag against his taut muscles. Your other hand gently gripping the curls in his hair. Miguel sighs your name and that familiar tightness comes back around his cock. His shaft stood tall and proud, the ring closed around him perfectly.

“It doesn't hurt right?”

“No.” He takes in a deep breath. Not at the tensity around his length but at the urge to pin you down against the couch. All because you praised him.

You notice his change in demeanor, “You sure? Don't act all tough now.”

“I'm fine.” He insists, “Are we done now?”

“No. We got one more.” You hold up an oddly shaped ring in a dark purple color, “This one has a vibrator attached to it.”

The push to get him to soften his cock works as you take the ring off, replacing it with the one that vibrates. He notices your face light up with excitement and he wanted to grab the back of your neck, wrap your pretty lips around his dick. Coat it with your saliva as it presses against the back of your throat. Almost making you gag if you weren't an expert in sucking him off. God, he hoped you would let him get what he wants.

You didn't need to do anything this time. His cock raised once again while his mind filled with obscene thoughts of you. Grabbing and fucking up into you in desperation. Feeling your wet cunt easily take him in as you beg for him to not stop.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask with a smirk.

Miguel gazes at you with hunger in his eyes, “Thinking about fucking you.”

“We’re not done yet…” That excuse falls on deaf ears when he reaches over to grab you. A shriek escapes your lips as you're now trapped under his arms, flushed along his chest.

“We are. You said this is the last one.”

“I did-”

“Then why can't I fuck my beautiful wife?”

“I didn't say you couldn't-”

“So let me.” A talon comes out, gently pricking your lower back. He grins at your back arching a little when he hits your favorite spot. Your hands digging into his shirt. “You don't want me to rip off your clothes, hm?”

You squirm, escaping his hold to shirk off your jeans and underwear. Before you took your rightful place, you grabbed a little remote and turned on the cock ring. The vibrations were sending a pleasant feeling along his shaft but it wasn’t enough to send him over the edge.

He smelled your arousal wafting in the air, getting him harder if possible. Miguel beckons you on top with the look in his eyes. So you oblige, smearing more lube on his dick before sinking yourself.

“Ooh…” Your walls involuntary squeeze him once the vibrator hits your clit.

“That's it…” He lets out a shaky breath, hands on your sides. “That's it, baby.”

Miguel thrusts up into you, your hands on his shoulders. The vibrating ring makes you whimper, forcing him to grip your sides with restraint. You sounded so pretty for him with a twinge of desperation. The lazy rise of your hips before you sunk back down was driving him insane. He unknowingly held his breath while watching you.

“You like that? Does that feel good?” Your nod fell short as you cried out from another thrust.

“M-Miguel...”

“I got you.”

With his occasional thrusts and the ring still vibrating on your sex, your breathing was getting heavier. Faster. He knew you were close as he rolled his hips into you. Making you incoherent. Unable to get back that pleasant, dominant aura you radiated. Now, you were at his mercy. He felt you trying to pull away, to escape the impending doom of your climax. Instead, Miguel held you close to him for your release. When you cried into his shoulder, your walls molded around him perfectly. He held the nape of your neck, keeping you still as he thrust up into you. Shaking your entire body with his actions. For his cum to coat your walls and the vibrating ring.

A sticky mess pooled between both of your thighs. The two of you holding each other to come down from your high. You didn’t say anything, but Miguel knew you were going to get back at him later.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:���･

“Please, I’ve been good…” He said while on his knees, hugging your exposed leg as that was the only thing he could do without facing your wrath.

“Have you?” You were unfazed, scrolling your phone as if it was more important than him groveling.

“Yes. I don’t know how long I can take of this, mi ángel.”

“You sure?” Now, you were looking at him, a slight tilt to your head. “I thought you were fine when we made out in your lab earlier.”

Miguel huffed at the memory. All day, you were teasing him. Stroking his dick during your morning shower. Sticking your tongue in his mouth before he left for work and back to his lab. Where you wrapped your legs around him while sitting on one of his consoles. Grinding your hips against his hardened length, with the intent of making him cum under his suit. Only for you to stop, saying you didn’t want to distract him from work. He was in desperate need of you or else he was going to explode.

“I was-am fine.” He swallowed, “But it’s been a long day and I need…” Miguel travels up your bare thigh, feeling the fatty part of your body while looking at you.

“Say it.”

“I need you. Please.” He kisses the palm of your hand when you cradle his cheek and you take mercy on him.

“Okay. You did do well in holding out for me today.”

Miguel can already feel himself getting hard from your praise when he stands to coat your face in kisses. Each filled with relief and gratitude. He doesn’t take over just yet, unsure if you were going to switch things up for him at the last minute. Which you do when your hands gently push at his chest to get him to stop.

“You think you can be good for another twenty minutes?”

He nods with fervor, “Yes, yes I can.”

You kiss his lips to thank him before telling him to stay by the kitchen counter. You disappear for a moment, coming back with the signature bottle of lube and one of the cock rings. When your lips combine, Miguel moans against them, in need for any type of contact. He feels your fingertips glide along his forearm to his watch, pressing a few buttons to reveal his semi-erect cock. Inches from his face, you swiftly coat him with lube, putting the ring around his shaft.

“Don’t cum until I say so.”

Miguel doesn’t trust his voice so he hopes his nod is enough. A knot forms in his chest when you slide down, your lips leaving a wet trail down to his cock. You gaze at his shaft with intrigue, it being hard and ready for you. “Don’t choke.”

“I won’t.” You flash him a look of appreciation before wrapping your lips around him. A shudder escapes him and he grips the counter for dear life. Not focusing on how warm your mouth felt. How easily you were vigorously sucking him off, careful to not slip the ring off and catch in your mouth. He shuts his eyes, trying to focus on not orgasming until you say.

“Look at me.”

It took all the willpower he had to not cum when he looked at you. A mixture of saliva and lube on your face creates a mess. But you didn’t care when you took him in again, moaning amongst his shaft. Eyes locked with his own. So you could see his face twisted in undeniable pleasure. He wasn’t sure if he was going to last five minutes. His body ached for release, but he wasn’t going to defy you again.

Miguel took deep breaths to stabilize himself. The need to coat your mouth with his seed lessened and he kept his self-control. He wasn’t sure how many minutes passed since you started, but suddenly you pulled away with a wet pop. Wiping off your drool with the back of your hand. He honed on your frame as you stood, slowly removing your panties. Only leaving you in the oversized shirt, his shirt while bending over the counter. The shape of your wonderful ass in his view.

He didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if this was another play at him.

You look behind you, wiggling your ass a little. “Come on, big guy.”

Miguel was on you instantly.

With one swift motion, he entered you, letting out a loud groan at how soaked you were. His large hands grab your hips, making sure you don't move an inch. His thrusts were rough, a bit out of sync. He was too absorbed in finally fucking you the way he wanted all day. Hearing you squeal and moan underneath him while railing you to submission.

“Ooh right there…” He notices your back arch when he pounds into that sweet spot, your feet dangling in the air when he lifts you. The palm of his hand sprawled across your stomach while the other was so close to breaking the countertop.

His balls clenched, almost tipping over in his relief. But you haven't told him if he could come yet.

“C-Can I?” He grits his teeth, still trying to hold back for your permission.

“Yes-oh!”

Miguel presses you flat on the counter, a final thrust before he releases inside you. An intense orgasm that causes him to be more vocal, whimpering and groaning in your ear. Slow thrusts inside to get as much stimulation as he can before pressing along your head. Your sweaty scent and arousal linger in the air.

When he slipped out, he took the ring off before giving it back to you. He didn’t make eye contact, knowing the smug look you'd have on your face when he asked, “Can we go again tomorrow?”

[poorly-written-fiction]

a little bit too much (freaky edition) - logan howlett x fem!reader

A/N: holy shit the support i got on my first posted fic is so nice thank you all so much. i made myself the promise that i’d post another fic. this is a similar fic to the one i posted yesterday, but this time it does end in smut. hence the name. also we’ve upgraded from me writing in my phone’s notes app, yay!

tags: SMUT (18+ MDNI), dubcon kinda? pre-established consent implied (drunk sex but only Y/N is drunk. repeated and enthusiastic consent is given. if this bothers you, please don’t read.), alcohol consumption (Y/N is 21+), fem!reader (no specific physical descriptions given), age gap (legal but let’s be real every relationship with logan is an age gap relationship), plot what plot/porn without plot, fingering, unprotected PinV + creampie (PLEASE BE RESPONSIBLE WHEN ENGAGING IN INTERCOURSE THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION), car sex, swearing, spelling and grammatical errors i’m sure because writing this faster and harder than i ever have before

words: 1478 (yippee!)

Logan couldn’t keep his eyes off of Y/N. In a bar full of neon lights and signs, nothing was shining brighter than she was. Maybe it was the alcohol, which had allowed Y/N to let go of any stress she had been holding onto. She drank enough to give her the confidence to loosen up and have fun - not that she wasn’t usually fun, but sometimes it’s hard to be yourself in a bar mostly inhabited by older men. Eyes would tend to watch Y/N and Logan when they would come through the door, very aware that he was older than she was, they just didn’t know how much older, and they didn’t need to. Y/N was old enough to order her own drinks, and that’s all that really mattered. 

She really did look beautiful, especially with her hips swaying in time with the music playing in the bar. Her hips, which were wrapped in a denim mini skirt, it was driving Logan crazy. He loved every inch of her, every bit of her soul, every fiber of her being. She brought out the warmth in him, one would think after living for roughly 200 years that Logan’s heart would be practically made of stone. She made him smile, genuinely, but also made him wildly protective. During their games of pool, any time she’d bend over to make her shot, Logan would stand right behind her and glare around at anyone who would try to look at her. Then she’d make her shot, stand up straight, and accidentally bump up against his hips. He’d wrap his arms around waist and hold her close to him, leaning over her slightly to kiss her on the cheek. They’d do this all night, until the game was done, or until Y/N had drank a little too much, whichever came first. 

Tonight, they had finished their game - they didn’t really keep track of who won, they were just having a good time together. Y/N was a little bit stumbly when she walked, holding onto Logan’s arm for stability. Being the gentleman that he was, he paid their tab, and wrapped his arm around her to hold her upright while they walked to the truck. Usually, he would carry her, but he didn’t want to risk giving anyone in that bar a look up Y/N’s skirt. Logan unlocked the truck, opened the passenger side door, and lifted Y/N into her seat before buckling her in and pressing a soft kiss to her temple. When he was sure she was safe and sound, he closed the door before jogging over to the driver’s side and hopping in himself. 

After 15 minutes on the road, they were stopped at a red light that seemed to go on forever. Logan looked over at Y/N to make sure she was okay, and smiled when he saw her looking back at him. “Hey there, princess,” he gave her soft thigh a gentle squeeze. Y/N placed her hand over her boyfriend’s, slowly pulling it up her skirt, moaning quietly when his fingers brushed against her core. Logan’s eyes widened when he made the realization, “Where the hell are your panties, darlin’?”

Y/N giggled, her mind still very fuzzy from the alcohol, “Wasn’t wearing any… wondered how long it’d take you to find out.” She rocked her hips forward so her clit bumped perfectly against his fingers. She whined at the contact, repeating the movement again, before Logan retreated his hand back to her thigh.

“Babygirl, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight, are you okay to do this right now?” He glanced at the traffic light ahead of them - still red - before his eyes met hers again. Y/N’s eyes were locked onto her lover, giving him a firm nod. Y/N would be lying if she didn’t admit she liked drinking a little bit too much and then convincing Logan to fuck her. He muttered a quiet fuck, before he noticed the bright green light ahead of them. “Can you wait until we’re home, doll?”

Y/N shook her head, “I want you Logan… I need you.” Her hands began to guide Logan’s back up her skirt. He was used to driving with one hand on the wheel and one on Y/N’s thigh, but he knew that they’d have to pull over before they took things too far. Thankfully, there was a secluded road they’d be coming up on soon. Logan brushed his fingers through her folds, already so wet for him. He chuckled quietly, before taking his lover’s clit between his middle and index fingers, rubbing it in small circles. The sensation was like electricity running through Y/N’s body. “Fuck… that feels so good, Lo, please… keep going.”

After what seemed like an eternity of teasing, they finally got far enough onto the wooded road that cars passing wouldn’t be able to see them. Logan pulled over to the side of the road, retracting his hand again from Y/N’s heat, this time to put the truck in park before shutting off the ignition. Once the car’s lights were off, Logan made quick work to adjust the seat back to give Y/N space, before unbuckling both hers and his own seatbelts and pulling her over the center console so she was straddling his lap. He pulled her close into a very heated kiss with one hand, while his other squeezed her ass gently. “You’re so fucking perfect for me,” he mumbled into the kiss, earning him a needy moan from her mouth. Y/N’s hands clumsily attempted to undo Logan’s belt, between the alcohol running through her system and her head buzzing with desire, it took her a moment. Eventually, she got the belt undone, and she had an easier time with his jeans, wrapping her fingers under the waistband of his pants and his boxers and tugging down on them. Logan lifted his hips slightly, pulling the clothing down the rest of the way. His cock rested against her core for a moment before he slowly pushed into her, drawing a string of pleasured noises from his beautiful girlfriend.

“Fuck… you’re so tight, babygirl…” 

“You’re so fucking big, Lo…”

Logan grabbed Y/N’s hips, bunching her miniskirt up in the process. He rocked her back and forth on his cock, pulling more moans and gasps from her lips. He loved the way she sounded. Y/N began to fuck herself onto his cock in rhythm with him, holding onto his shoulders for support. Logan took the opportunity to gently press his thumb against her clit, drawing gentle circles around the small muscle. Y/N’s walls tightened at the sensation, earning a low moan out of Logan’s mouth. His pace sped up just slightly, which was just enough for Y/N to start coming undone in his hands.

“Please… just like that, Lo, please don’t stop..!”

“That’s it… good girl, I wanna make you cum.”

“I’m so close, please Logan..!”

He loved the way she said his name, so much desperation coming from her sweet lips. He moved his free hand from her hip to the back of her neck, pulling her into a needy kiss. He kept his pace, but his hips began to move with a harder intensity, fucking Y/N like his life depended on it. She moaned into his mouth, before breaking away, nearly screaming his name.

“Fuck, Logan… Logan, I’m cumming!”

“That’s it, cum for me, babygirl, you’re doing so good…”

Y/N’s nails dug into Logan’s shoulders as she began to ride out her orgasm, her insides contracting around his cock, and her legs squeezing around his hips. Logan’s own orgasm followed quickly, spilling warm cum inside of Y/N, who was still wrapped tightly around him. They took a few moments to enjoy the afterglow, sharing a few kisses and pressing their foreheads against each other’s, taking their time to catch their breath. Y/N reached over to the window on the driver’s side door, drawing a small heart in the fogged-up glass. Logan watched her, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

 After a moment, he slowly pulled out, then grabbed one of his flannels that he had left in the backseat of his truck and cleaned off Y/N’s thighs. Usually, he’d pull her panties back onto her after he filled her up, but she had decided not to wear any. He folded the flannel a few times, and placed it on the passenger seat - he was going to need to wash it anyways since he cleaned her up with it. He lifted her off of his lap, and got her settled back in the passenger seat, buckling her seatbelt again, and giving her a kiss.

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Lo.”

================================================

thank you for reading! if this fic seems rushed it's because it is, i need sleep but i also wanted to get this done. i hope you enjoyed!

[nottswitch]

Hi babe!! 💞

Congrats on 1k you deserve it!!!

can i get 1 pls?

hi baby!! thank you sm, and thanks for sending a request 💘 i kinda hoped that this aesthetic would come up for theo bc i really wanted to use this pic, and yay! it did! your aesthetic is…

— glowwave

(surrounding the theme of things that glow in the dark or with assistance from a UV light or with the glow of neon lights and bright, neon colors)

۶ৎ navigation ; masterlist ; theo m-list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

18+ smut

the booming beats coming from the party were filling the (almost) empty bathroom, making the floor beneath your feet vibrate. not for long, though – in a second, you were lifted up onto the sink, the cold porcelain edge digging into the back of your thighs. you didn’t really notice, though – your mind was preoccupied with your ex’s mouth devouring your own.

theo’s hands wandered all over your body, shamelessly sneaking underneath your tank top to palm your tits as his lips moved down to your jawline and the side of your neck. the feeling of his teeth sinking into your flesh made you moan softly into his ear, pulling on his hair to have a look at his face. the purple fluorescent light inside the bathroom made him look like some otherworldly creature, an alien who always managed to take you to another dimension, to a new planet completely of his own.

"missed me, cara mia?" theo murmured against your lips, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. you already knew the answer – it was the same shit every time: you’d convince yourself that you didn’t need him, that you were way better off without him, that you just weren’t meant to be. but…

"fuck- yes!"

the words were practically coaxed out of you by theo’s fingers harshly shoved deep inside your treacherously dripping pussy, making you desperately grab his shoulders for support and moan in a lewd, pornographic way into the air.

theo’s face was now adorned with an even wider, cockier smirk as his ‘fuck me’ (or, in this case, ‘fuck you’) eyes studied your blissed out expression intensely, catching every single twitch of your mouth, every single wrinkle creasing between your furrowed eyebrows. the wet, squelching sounds of your arousal mixed with the beats of some annoying techno sound rang through your positively empty brain, filled with cum, cum, theo, cum, theo-

a gasp broke out of your lips when you felt his hand cupping your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, firmly pressing the soft flesh against your teeth.

"what’s going on in that pretty little head, hm?" theo cooed, his voice clearly mocking. you wanted to reply, but the addition of a third finger shut you up instantly, a moan serving as a perfect reminder of your already fucked out state. "ah, piccolina, you never change."

theo chuckled and let go of your face, moving his hand to wrap around your throat instead. his lips hovered just above your parted, glistening ones. his eyebrow went up when he saw your eyes rolling to the back of your head again as his fingers curled inside you one more time.

"words, cara mia. use your words," theo hissed, tightening his hold on your throat to remind you who was in charge of the whole ordeal – although, there were never any doubts.

"cum, theo, cum," you mumbled, your voice way more high-pitched than usual, like a broken music box playing the same melody over and over again. his eyes drifted from your face to the place where his fingers were currently fucking your coherency away. the smirk was fused to his lips at that point, encouraged by drops of wetness bouncing off your inner thighs with each thrust of his.

"cum, bambina, scream my name. i want every single person in this fucking party to know you’re still hopelessly mine."

playlist

❥ e.t. by katy perry

❥ unfold by alina baraz & galimatias

❥ so sad so sexy by lykke li

❥ colors by halsey

❥ dancer in the dark by chase atlantic

[lacroixwh0r3]

The First Taste (p. 3)

DBF!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: You thought that it was just going to be you and your dad watching football together, but a lonely Joel comes over to join you two.

Warnings: SMUT!! pet names, porn with little plot, dom!joel, age gap, PiV, daddy kink, joel is a little bit of a perv, cursing, breast play?, reader and joel almost caught by reader's dad, teasing, fingering, slight dom!reader, hair pulling, football, joel is lonely, mentions of sarah, tommy, and maria

Song Inspo (feel free to listen if you want): Bathroom by Montell Fish

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: not me being gone for months...i swear i did not forget about yall! i had this saved in a google doc since november and haven't had the time nor motivation to finish it until now YAY

Enjoy babies! Please reblog, share, like, and comment if you want. <333

It was a shame—there you were, sitting on the couch at home on a Thursday night, waiting for your dad to get back from the store so the two of you could have some snacks while watching football. You didn’t know much about the sport, but it’s not like you had nothing better to do.  

You called your friend and asked her if she would be down to hang out tonight, but lately, she would much rather hang out with her boyfriend than her best friend. While you were a little disappointed by her response, a part of you also felt relieved by her answer. 

It’s not like you had much energy these days after recently getting a job as a teacher assistant at the local elementary school, and while it had been a job that you enjoyed a lot, it was also a demanding job that took a lot of your energy. You were constantly running back and forth from the classroom to the copy room to grab a stack of papers for the teacher, occasionally having to console kids or sometimes having to stop a lesson because someone peed themselves. The teachers would also ask you to create lessons for the day, which took up a lot of your free time outside of the classroom. You didn’t mind it though; after all, it is your job, and more often than not, the kids were sweet and would be on their best behavior depending on the day. 

Today was different; you weren’t as tired as you usually are after work, you didn’t have any work to do, and you had the day off tomorrow. And for that, you were grateful. 

You were lazily stretched out on the couch, watching whatever was on ESPN before the game was set to start. You check your phone for the time and notice that it is almost 8 o'clock and your dad isn't back yet. 

It shouldn’t take him this long to get back, you think to yourself. 

You decide to call him to check up on him, but as soon as you press his contact, you hear a knock at the front door. This confused you for a second because your dad usually used his key to open the door, but maybe he couldn’t since he was carrying bags. You get off the couch and walk to the front door. 

“Took you long enou-” you say right as you swing the door, thinking that it was your dad. However, you cut yourself off when you realized who it was. 

No, it was not your dad, but the last person you were expecting to see today. 

The one and only Joel-fucking-Miller  

“Joel,” you try to sound as normal as possible, but it was obvious from your tone that you were shocked. “W-what are you doing here?” You asked him. You could see the corner of his lips quirk up at your nervousness before going back to his usual serious look. 

It’s not like it is uncommon for Joel to be over at your house, but it was usually during the times you were out of the house. Or your dad would be the one to greet him at the door. After Tommy and Maria moved away and Sarah was out of the house more, Joel's appearances at your house became more frequent. 

“Just here to watch the game with your dad,” he says as he points inside the house. “You mind if I come in, darlin’?” 

“Shit! I’m sorry,” you say, opening the door wider and moving out of the way. “Please, come in.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says as he enters. You could smell his warm scent just as he walked right past you, making you almost want to go and throw yourself onto him. 

As you were closing the door, you closed your eyes and let out a loud sigh before making your way back to the couch. You felt like a baby deer walking for the first time because you could feel Joel’s eyes on you. And to make matters worse, your legs had brushed against his as you passed by him, causing you to apologize immediately as if he were going to eat you for accidentally touching him. 

“You’re fine, sweetheart,” he chuckles. You sigh with relief before sitting down on the couch, leaving a seat between the two of you. 

The two of you sat there in silence—you sat there tense, while Joel sat there relaxed and unaffected. 

A sense of guilt crept up on you as you sat there, looking at the TV screen in deep thought. 

It had been about two years since whatever that was between you and Joel at the lake, and you still felt guilt whenever your dad would bring him up to you. 

Whenever Joel did come around, he usually brought Sarah with him, and you would hang out with her most of the time. You felt bad for using Sarah as an escape from her dad, but you couldn’t deal with being around Joel.

“Your dad told me about that new job of yours,” Joel asked you, causing you to look over at him. He was looking at you with frowning eyebrows and eyes full of curiosity. “How’s it goin’?”

“It’s nice; it’s fun working with the kids and all that stuff.” You say, sounding a little too enthusiastic. 

“That’s good, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.” He says sincerely, and the dimple on his cheek deepens as he gives you a small grin, almost causing your heart to jump out of your chest.  

Thanks. You say lowly as your face warms up at his words. You liked hearing him say he was proud of you; it made you feel tingly and warm inside. “How’s Sarah been? I haven't seen her around lately,” you say as you try to replace the silence that fell over you two. 

"Oh, that girl—she's hardly ever home these days,” Joel sighs in defeat as he scratches his graying beard. “I can’t even get her to sit down and have a meal with me,” he said lowly. 

All you could do was stare at Joel with a sympathetic look. 

Looking up from his lap, Joel's eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at you. Watching as you stared at him with your lips frowned down. “Don’t look at me like I'm some wounded animal, sweet girl. I’ll be just fine.” His southern accent sounds more prominent as he says it. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you looked away from him, feeling embarrassed for some reason. 

Joel was about to say something to you before you heard the sounds of keys at the front door. You knew that it must’ve been your dad at the door, struggling to get his keys, so you helped him. However, Joel stopped you from getting up after he put his arm in front of you as he got off the couch. 

“I’ll help him, sweetheart,” he says as he winks at you and makes his way to the door to help your dad.  

Oh, Joel.

As soon as Joel opens the door, they both loudly greet each other. He grabs the bags out of your dad's hands and makes his way to the kitchen, where he helps him put things away.

A part of you knew deep down that it was going to be a long night. 

…

About halfway through the game, you were falling asleep as you sat comfortably in the corner of the couch, covered in your blanket. However, your dad and Joel made sure to keep you up as they talked loudly to each other or even loudly cursed at the TV. 

Suddenly, your dad’s phone began to ring loudly, interrupting their conversation. 

You could hear the groan of the leather recliner as your dad stretched out so that he could reach into his pocket to grab his phone. 

“Ah, fuck,” your dad says as he looks at the caller ID. “Gotta take this real quick,” your dad says as he gets up and looks at Joel. “Let me know what happens,” he says as he gestures to the TV, to which Joel nods his head. Joel watched as your dad shuffled down the hall and into his office before shutting the door behind him. 

It was now just the two of you, alone. 

You knew he was watching you because you could feel Joel’s gaze burning into your skin, and you were trying your hardest not to look at him. You sat there, as stiff as a board, as your breathing began to pick up.

“You alright there, darlin’? You look a little nervous over there."

“I’m fine, Joel,” you said curtly as you kept your eyes on the TV. 

He lets out a deep hum, and you almost feel yourself relax as you believe that is the end of your interaction. But Joel speaks again: “Why don’t you come sit with me, sweetheart?" he said as he patted the open spot next to him on the couch. 

You look over at him, and you see that he has this smirk on his face. “I ain’t gonna bite you too hard, baby,” he winks at you with a click of his tongue. You felt

“Come on and be a good girl before your daddy comes back, yeah?” 

It was evident that Joel knew how to talk to you and get you to do anything he wanted because you hesitantly rose off of the couch and made your way over to him. His devilish smirk grows wider, making you even more nervous. 

Just as you are about to sit down next to him, Joel grabs your hips with his strong hands, causing you to let out a yelp as you plop down on his lap. And there you were, sitting sideways on his lap with your back against the arm of the couch. 

You could feel the anger bubbling inside of you at his actions. You were upset that he would grab you like that. 

You turned your head to look at Joel as you began to quietly scold him, afraid that your dad would come out of his office and find you sitting on his friend's lap. “Are you actually out of your fucking mind, Joel? What if my dad-”

Before you could continue, Joel cut you off by placing his warm hand on your thigh with that smirk still on his face. "Oh, darlin’, we’re just sitting here,” he says while looking at you with his brown eyes as he begins to stroke close to your inner thigh with his fingers. “Unless you want me to do somethin’ else," he almost whispers to you as he strokes his fingers further up your thigh. 

You turned your focus away from Joel and to where he was touching you, nearly letting out soft whimpers, but you stopped yourself before they could escape your mouth. “You like that, baby?" He says this as he holds his other hand, resting on the couch, to the back of your neck, holding a firm grip. 

Rather than responding, you just shook your head, leaving Joel unsatisfied because he knew you were lying. He takes his hand from your thigh and brings it to your neck. Now, both of his hands were holding you in place by your neck, and you would be lying again if you said you didn’t enjoy this. 

“Don’t fuckin lie to me, girl. Look me in the eyes and tell me you liked it,” he says as his erection grows. 

You decided you were going to have fun as well.

With his firm grip of both of his hands around your neck, you try your best to turn your head and look at him fully. You look down at his lips before looking into his eyes. “Mm, I loved it, Joel." 

And you were going to take it a step further by placing your hand over his on your throat and making him grip it tighter. “I love it so much, Daddy." You whispered even though the TV volume was high enough that your dad wouldn’t hear what was going on. 

You watch the smirk leave his face, and this dark look flashes in his eyes; he’s serious now.  

“I bet you do, baby,” he says in his husky voice as his fingers dig into your neck. You move your hand down to his wrist as your other one goes for his pointer finger and brings it to your warm mouth. Joel inhales sharply as you suck on the tip of his finger and tease your tongue around it. The sensation of you sucking on his finger immediately shot down to his cock, causing it to strain in his pants, and you could feel it against your thigh. 

Everything about the situation turned Joel on—something about the thrill of his best friend walking out of his office and seeing his daughter sitting on his lap while she sucked on his finger turned him on. He watched closely as your lips were wrapped around his finger, watching as the spit slid down his finger. 

It felt like the two of you were in your world before hearing your dad’s office door swing open. The two of you immediately began to panic; you pulled Joel’s finger out of your mouth and threw yourself off of his lap and onto the cushion next to him as you heard your dad’s footsteps creeping closer to the living room. There wasn’t much time to scoot away from Joel without looking suspicious, but you tried to leave an appropriate amount of space between you two.

In the corner of your eye, you see Joel drop his hands down onto his lap to cover his erection. 

“Well, what happened?” Your dad asked as he flopped down into his leather recliner with a groan. 

“Not sure,” Joel says coolly as he reaches over to grab his beer from the coffee table and takes a quick sip—still trying to cover himself.  

“What the hell do you mean? You were right here the whole time." Your dad further pushes for an answer. 

God, if only he knew the real reason, he’d freak out. He’d probably do more than freak out. 

“We were talkin’ the whole time; wasn’t even payin’ attention,” Joel said with amusement. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?” he says as he gently nudges your knee. Meanwhile, you could feel your face heating with embarrassment at his words, knowing they weren’t true. What the two of you were doing was far from just talking. 

You looked over at Joel with a wide, fake smile and said, “Yup, that’s right. Joel was just showing me something on his phone." 

Your dad mutters something under his breath as he turns his attention to the game, causing you to finally drop the fake smile. Meanwhile, you and Joel are still staring at each other; more so, you are giving him a death glare while he looks at you with an entertained gleam in his eyes. Once he did look away, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. 

You didn’t know if you were mad or if you wanted to fuck him. 

…

For the rest of the time, you busied yourself by being on your phone the whole time. The conversation between Joel and your dad had come to a stop after your dad kicked his feet up on his recliner, laid back, and went to sleep, leaving Joel to watch the game by himself silently. 

Whenever Joel got bored or there was a commercial break, he would pick up his phone and check his email or text messages before setting his phone back down and letting out a loud huff. 

There was a part of you that felt bad for not making conversation with him, but you were unable to shake the sexual tension that lingered between you two. 

You drop your phone on your lap before turning to Joel and clearing your throat to catch his attention. “Can I get you water or something?” You ask Joel over the sound of the football commentator's laughter and your dad’s snoring. 

Joel’s eyes move from the TV to you, making you feel nervous now that his attention is on you. “I’m good, darlin’,” he says as he gives you a quick, small smile before turning his gaze back to the game. 

You just nodded your head, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and attempted to distract yourself with your phone again. 

So much for making conversation, you think to yourself as you cringe with embarrassment. 

In the midst of you scrolling through your Instagram feed, you feel a warm, callused hand snake onto your thigh, almost scaring the living hell out of you until you realized it was’s hand Joe

You both sat silently, making no attempt to move an inch as his hand rested on the inside of your thigh, almost as if he were waiting for you to push his hand away, but you never did. 

Instead, you make sure that your dad is still sound asleep before you shift your body towards Joel, inching your body closer to him. You adjusted yourself so that your left leg was up with the blanket draped over it, while the other one rested halfway on Joel’s thigh. If your dad were to wake up, it’s not like he would know what you and Joel were doing. 

He starts to stroke your thigh before slowly moving his hand up and stopping at the band of your sweatpants. Your heart was racing, so eager for him to touch you. 

Without looking, Joel’s fingers find the waistband of your sweatpants, causing your breathing to hitch and your heart to beat faster. Once his fingers sip in, he slowly reaches your center. You felt as if you were on the brink of cumming right then and there. His touch was slow and sensual, as he gently teased your clit as he spread your arousal. 

Who knew a man like him could touch you like this? 

You felt your senses becoming clouded as he did this. Oh fuck, you whimpered a little too loudly before you could even realize it, making you slap your hand over your mouth. 

Joel looks down at you, continuing to spread your wetness around. “You okay, darlin’?” He asks you so casually, as if his hands are not in your pants, rubbing your clit. You can see the look in his eyes as his eyebrows quirked, waiting for you to answer him. 

Mmhm, you whimper after letting out a shaky sigh as you finally release your hand from over your mouth. 

He leaned over so he could whisper to you, “You like that, baby? You like when I play with that pretty pussy?” You nodded in response as you bit down on your bottom lip, fearing that if you did open your mouth, you would immediately wake up your dad. “I know you do; you like it when daddy makes you feel good, yeah?”

Joel’s eyes quickly shifted to your dad before looking back at you. That’s when his slow circles became faster. Again, you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying to conceal any noises, while the other clawed at Joel’s forearm. Your thighs trembled as you neared the edge of your orgasm; your eyes were closed, and your head dropped onto Joel’s shoulder. 

“Y'gonna cum, girl?” Joel says lowly, his fingers never letting up as he applies more pressure. “Answer me, or else you won’t cum at all.” You tried to get the words to come out of your mouth, but you couldn't, as the knot in your stomach was nearly unraveled for him. 

Sticking to his word, Joel watched as you got closer and closer to your orgasm—watching the way your hand tried to wrap around his wrist, the way that you held your breath, or the way your toes wiggled in your socks before going completely still—that's when he knew you were about to cum. 

However, he quickly pulled his hand from your pants, leaving you in a state of disappointment and shock. It was almost hilarious to Joel as he watched the wave of disappointment and anger flash over your face. He knew you wanted to scold him, but he didn’t care. 

“Aw, you mad, baby?” Joel teased, making you roll your eyes at him. “You should be a good girl next time and listen.” 

Then, an idea pops into your head. 

“Come to the bathroom with me." You whisper to him before getting up and running to the bathroom, not waiting for an answer from him. 

You were determined to get your way with him, even if that meant having your way with him in your bathroom.

Once you were in the bathroom, your heart was pounding as you listened to the sound of Joel’s heavy feet making their way up the stairs and to the bathroom. 

He softly knocks on the door with his knuckle before he opens the door halfway and slips inside. As soon as he shut the door behind himself and turned around to you, you grabbed Joel by his collar and smashed your lips against his. Even though you had shocked Joel with your forwardness, he had no problem returning your kiss. His hands were pawing at your back as you began to release his collar and go down to his belt. Joel’s cock strained in his pants as you hurriedly undid his belt and pants. 

Once you did finally get it open and pull his pants down enough to gain access to his cock, you broke the kiss and looked down.

You gasp, and your mouth waters at the sight.

The dark hairs that sat on the base complimented Joel’s thick, heavy cock beautifully. 

You drag your fingers through the fuzz before gripping his shaft and stroking down to the head of his cock. He softly moans your name. “Is this all for me, Joel?” You asked him as you looked into his eyes, and his grip on your back tightened. 

He had to keep his composure as you began to stroke him at a slow pace. “All for you, baby,” he says, his eyes looking deeply into yours with a look you can only describe as lustful. He looked at you as if he were going to devour you, and you would gladly let him. 

With every stroke, Joel would pull you closer to him, still making eye contact as you did it. 

“Does my hand feel good wrapped around your cock, Joel?” You cooed at him and began to speed up your pace on his heavy cock, not giving him any time to respond. His eyebrows immediately frowned with pleasure as he licked his lips. “You like it when I stroke you like this?”   

Because of his lack of response, you reach your arm up to bring his head close to your face, still stroking his cock. “Come on, Joel. Answer me.” You ask him lowly in his ear, demanding from him like he did to you on the couch. After you said this, you felt him immediately thrust into your fist as his hands flew down on you and he groaned into your neck. 

“Feels so good, darlin’,” he says, borderline moaning at the way you were making him feel. 

Not that Joel was getting laid daily, but when he did, women never acted this way with him. It was usually him who was the dominant one calling the shots, but he liked what you were doing to him. And it was wrong—it was wrong for him to love it this much, especially because of how much younger you were than him and because your dad is one of his closest friends.

You feel his facial hair on your neck as he begins to place soft kisses there. “You’re so big, Joel.” You whimper, still stroking him. “I want you to fuck me."

“Yeah?” he says against your neck before grunting. “You think you can handle this cock, darlin’?”

"You think you can handle me, old man?” You say it back to him, trying to get under his skin, which worked because he pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Come on, take your clothes off, darlin’,” he tells you as he tugs at your shirt and releases you from his hold. You start by pulling off your shirt and then going to your bottoms. While you did this, you took in Joel’s appearance. 

He stood there with his jean shirt exposing his chest and neck, his curls wildly laid against his forehead, and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. He looked like something straight out of a porn magazine.

Joel noticed that you were struggling with your bra as he watched you try to unhook it. “Here, let me help you, darlin’.” You nodded your head and turned around. 

In the mirror, you can see Joel shamelessly eyeing your ass before looking back up and meeting your eyes in the mirror. You look back at him with a cocked eyebrow, letting him know that you saw him staring at your ass. And without saying anything, he steps forward and gives your ass a quick spank, causing an echo in the bathroom. You let out a yelp—surprised and turned on at the same time. 

“Joel,” you scold him as you look at him through the mirror. 

Yeah, yeah, was all he said as he brushed off your words. He quickly undoes your bra before sliding the straps down your arms with his fingertips and letting the undergarment fall onto the floor. While he did this, you felt a tingle run down your spine as you began to form goosebumps on your arm, and your nipples hardened. 

“Fuck, look at that." His voice trails off as he looks at your breasts through the mirror. “Lookin’ so desperate for your daddy, ain’t that right, darlin'?" You watch as his arms snake around you before he cups your breasts. Thoughtlessly, you nodded your head in agreement with him; however, in the midst of that, Joel began to tweak your nipples with his thumb and pointer fingers. 

He lets out a deep hum, almost in approval, as he takes in the sight of you two and gives your nipple one last tug before his left hand trails down slowly, while the right is still cupping your breast. Joel’s fingers dove between your thighs, teasingly rubbing his warm, thick fingers on your lips as he gathered the arousal that dripped from you. You release a muffled whine as you press your lips shut. 

“Jesus Christ, darlin’,” Joel growls in your ear as he brings his hand to eye level to observe your wetness that was clinging onto his fingers before licking it off. You watch through the mirror as he licks every last drop off of his fingers. “Fucking delicious,” he mutters quietly as he pulls them out of his mouth before placing a soft kiss on your neck and shoulder. 

You feel your stomach tighten with longing for the older man, and your head becomes fizzy, making you close your eyes and roll your head to the side. 

That was until Joel moved his hand from your breast and up to your throat. “Uh-uh, I want you to keep lookin’,” he says firmly, causing your eyes to flutter open and catch his eyes in the mirror. “That’s right, darlin’,” Joel mutters. 

With the size of his hand, he had a firm grip on your neck, ensuring your head did not move from the mirror.

Joel brings his fingers back down to your pussy and brings your lower half closer to his. As he played with your clit, you could feel him humping against your ass, spreading his precum on it. You tried so hard to stop the moans from slipping out. It was to the point that you could almost feel the skin on your bottom lip begin to tear. 

You let out a huff of air before looking at Joel with pleading eyes. “Fuck, Joel I-I need you to fuck me. Please,” You beg him in your softest voice. 

“You’d like that? Wouldn’t you, darlin’?” Joel taunts you while still rubbing a circle around your clit.

"Yes!" you moaned at him. 

“I know you would, pretty girl,” While playing with your clit, Joel spoke lowly in your ear again. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you; don’t worry.”

Without wasting a second, he releases his grip around your neck and moves his hands away from your pussy. He places his hand on your back and slowly pushes you over the sink, while he uses the other to spread your legs open. Your hands grip the sides of the sink with your face inches away from the mirror, breathing heavily as you watch Joel. 

You could feel your pussy clench around nothing as he grabbed onto your waist and spit onto his fingers before rubbing it onto his cock. Joel teases your slit with the fleshy tip of his cock, forcing a mixture of a moan and a groan out of your mouth. You push your ass against him, hoping that he'll allow himself to enter you. And he does. 

The moment his head pushed into you, you could feel yourself stretching around him as you both met each other's thrust. Straightaway, you and Joel were gasping at the sensation.

“Holy hell, darlin’,” Joel groans shakily as his eyes clamp. “Tight fuckin’ cunt you got.” 

“You’re so big,” you weep quietly to him as you begin to slowly fuck yourself onto his cock. “I can feel you deep in me.”

Joel let out a breathy chuckle. “Fuck—look at you, so fucking desperate for my cock,” he taunts while he strokes your ass with his wide palm, making an effort not to bring it down onto your ass cheek. “Tell me how much you like having me in you."

This made you want to keep going, wanting to keep pleasing Joel, so you picked up. You made sure to throw your ass back on him as much as possible.

“So much—I love it so much, fucking much, daddy." 

You weren’t sure where this was coming from, but you liked it.

“Oh fuck, I know you do, baby. Keep fucking yourself onto my cock." Joel nearly growls as you watch him in the mirror intently. You watch as he looks down, where you are both connected with a slack jaw, taking in the view. 

You are now making it your mission to make him cum. And for some reason, you didn’t mind prioritizing Joel’s pleasure over your own—with past hookups, you made it your priority to get yours before letting them get theirs first.

But this was something different; you liked being able to make a man like Joel cum first.

The sound of your ass hitting his front was loud, and his heavy breathing almost made you cum. But with a lot of restraint, you were able to keep yourself from letting your eyes roll to the back of your head and watch Joel inch closer to his orgasm. 

“Cum for me, Joel,” you moan, encouraging him as he curses. You thought that he was going to thrust into you as he held you in place, but instead, you felt him quickly pull out of you, resting his damp forehead on your back as he tried to catch his breath. You let out a whine of disappointment. “Why’d you pull out?” 

It took him a couple of seconds to respond, “I been wanting to fuck you since I first laid eyes on you, pretty girl. You think I’d cum that fast?" He asked you.

“Now, come on, put your leg up so Daddy can go deeper, baby.” He tells you as he taps your thigh. 

Deeper? How much deeper does he need to go? You ask yourself; nonetheless, you still did as he said, a little curious.

You tightly grip the sink and begin to put your feet on the toilet lid. Joel makes sure to hold onto your hips and guide your foot. “Trust me, sweetheart, it’ll feel real good,” he says with a grin. 

He firmly grabs your hips and drills into you without any warning. “Oh my god,” you moan loudly while deeply inhaling. “Fuck, Joel!” you said, feeling overwhelmed by the feeling of the tip of Joel’s cock pressed deeply inside of you. 

With this new position, you could feel every inch of him in you—the head of his cock, his shaft, the way his cock twitched when he felt your pussy fluttering around him.

“I know, it’s okay,” he says after he hushes you, attempting to keep you quiet. “You just gotta—fuck—you gotta stay quiet.”

An ache formed in Joel’s lower back from his speed, and he knew it would fuck up his whole day tomorrow, but that didn’t stop him. 

You feel Joel’s fingers grab a handful of your hair, starting from the root, and tug your body to his. 

He noticed that your eyes were tightly closed as he continued to brutally thrust into you. With his grip still firm on your hair, he grabs your neck with his other hand and holds you in place. “Op-open your eyes, pretty girl. Look at yourself while I fuck this tight pussy of yours,” Joel grunts into your ear, making you whimper. 

You force yourself to open your eyes, and when you do, the familiar knot in your stomach almost comes undone.

“Don’t stop, baby." Your voice quivers as your legs tremble. But with Joel’s grip on your neck, he stops you from going down. “I-I’m gonna cum,” 

The bathroom was filled with all types of noises as he was now slowly fucking you through your orgasm. 

“Cum for daddy, darlin’, cum all over my cock.” 

And that’s when you finally came. 

Over the sounds of skin slapping and the squelching from your wet pussy, Joel talks you through your orgasm, whispering how much of a good girl you were for him and how good you were making him feel. 

He finally slowed down his pace as you came down. He could feel your cunt pulsate on his cock, bringing him to his climax.

Joel releases you and pulls out before jerking off on your ass and spilling his warm seed onto your soft skin. 

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan as you feel the thick, milky white substance paint your ass. By the second spurt of cum hitting your ass, he bites down on your shoulder, trying to silence his loud, tired groans as he cums. 

You made Joel cum harder than he ever did before.  

After a few deep breaths later, you and Joel had finally calmed down, feeling fucked out and tired. 

He lets out a sigh before wiping the sweat off his forehead and looking down at the watch on his wrist. “Alright, darlin’,” he says as he tucks himself back into his pants and fixes his shirt. “Gotta get out of here before your old man wakes up."

“It was a little too late for you to say that now,” you joke with a relaxed grin on your face as you turn around to him to get one more look at him. It quickly fell when you realized that Joel could hardly look you in the eyes. “You okay?”

He tries to give you his best phony smile while attempting to look you in the eyes. ”I’m fine, sweetheart; I gotta get home to Sarah before it gets too late." Joel lies through his teeth and avoids eye contact again, hoping that you couldn’t see through him. “You should get yourself cleaned up and ready for bed. I’ll straighten up and use the spare to lock the door when I go." He nods his head at you in a bid to say bye and reaches for the doorknob as if he wasn’t balls deep in you a few minutes ago. 

You move out of his way, and he leaves without either of you saying another word to each other. 

And there you were—naked, ass covered in his cum, embarrassed, and hurt. 

A/N: i will make a masterlist soon i swear but I hope y'all liked it!! *MWAH*

[dqllgarden]

Hi sweetheart! I’d like to request a Ben Hargreeves x Reader shot please. You can change it however you’d like and I’d still thank you for it. Lovely stuff btw I already read what you’ve came up with. Was pretty good if you’d ask me. Whatever, here we go. I want a smut Ben fic with plot. The reader was with Umbrella!Ben first and was a dom! And now she is with Sparrow!Ben and they have a switch dynamic. I want her to be a switch and challenging. Have them fight but not seriously just for the tension ya know. And I want them to be soft afterwards. Prob something like “I loved you before, I love you now and I will love you even after death. As long as there is a Y/N in any universe she is gonna love her Ben every fucking time.” And Ben is just pathetic after hearing her. #WeLovePatheticMan lol. If it’s too much you can just do whatever you like and I will still read it. Please don’t forget to tag me. Baibai 🥰✌🏻

i’ll always choose you

ben hargreeves x reader

my first request!! yay :D i was so so so excited to write this because it’s such a well thought out idea and i hope i did it justice :) thank you @cherryinsalemverse !

side note, this was my first one in third person so i hope it’s okay lol

tags: smut, switch!ben, switch!fem!reader, choking, sparrow ben being a little jealous of y/n’s relationship with umbrella ben, cutesy shit at the end!

—

Being with Ben was always a walk in the park. He was kind, strong willed, and had such a loving heart. And Y/N loved the way he’d show up for her in more ways than one. He was someone she could talk to one rough days and dominate when talking didn’t work. Their sex life was anything but boring despite how sweet her Ben looked. Y/N would wait for Ben to get back from his missions just so she could take control over him and take care of him the way he needed. She’d slowly take off his uniform, rake her nails down his body and tease him until he was on the verge of tears needing more. It didn’t take much for her to cave, being just as needy for him. She’d fuck him until she was too exhausted to keep going or until he couldn’t take any more.

That changed in the new timeline though.

Her new Ben shared some of the same traits as her beloved Ben from the Umbrella Academy, but obviously he was… different. Sure he shared the same loving heart even if it was hidden beneath his asshole facade. Sure they fought, but it was never anything truly serious. It usually ended with them in bed, Ben on top of her, hand wrapped around her throat while she muttered out insults at him.

—

Today was like any other day, Ben coming back from a mission and Y/N sitting on their bed reading a book.

“You’re back quicker than I expected, love.” She sat down her book to look up at him.

“And you’re sad about that?” He rolled his eyes and took off his jacket.

“I mean yeah, I was enjoying my alone time.”

“Well I’m back,” Ben got onto the bed and grabbed her face to pull her into a kiss, “and I missed you, princess.”

Bens hand traveled down to her throat where he squeezed down, Y/N noticing a large cut on his hand cleaned up in a very sloppy manner. She took his hand off and sat up. “What happened to you?”

“It’s just a small cut it’s fi-“

“No. No, you need to be more careful next time,” Y/N said frantically. Something about seeing him hurt makes her go totally soft on him, wanting to make sure he’s okay and taken care of. Ben tried to go back to kissing her but she didn’t reciprocate. “What the fuck?” He asked, “come here babe.”

She only smiled at him before she got up and turned around to face him, only to push him back onto the bed and climb into his lap.

“Can’t you give me this just this once? I miss the way the old Ben let me take care of him after his missions.”

“Alright! Enough about him, okay?” His hands went to the back of his head as his eyes looked her up and down. “I get it, you liked him better.”

“It’s not about who I like better,” she muttered while unzipping his pants and taking hers off, “I just miss him sometimes. That’s all.” She lifted herself up, slowly lowering herself on Ben’s cock, one hand guiding it in and the other resting on his stomach. He tried to push into her faster but she held his hips down so he couldn’t. She wanted to be in control tonight.

“Can you please just- Y/N please I need you to move,” He’d cry when she’d do nothing but cockwarm him, trying to thrust into her. “You’re lucky I don’t flip you over and fuck you the way I want to.”

“Is that a threat or a promise, Mr. Hargreeves?”

He smirked at her before grabbing her throat and flipping her into the bed with such force the wind was knocked out of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist with no hesitation as he began pounding into her. Y/N moaned around him, eyes rolled back in pleasure at the way he perfectly filled her up and hit every spot just the way she needed. His weight felt so good on top of her, pushing into her with just the right amount of pressure to make her cry in pleasure. Ben’s hand left her throat to feel her body, squeezing her tits and holding onto her waist while he leaned closer to mark up her neck.

“I’m gonna cum in you baby, ‘kay?” Ben whispered in a desperate voice in her ear as he fucked into her harder. His hand went down to play with her clit to help her finish too, milking his orgasm. Ben collapsed next to Y/N not caring that their clothes were messily scattered around the room and pulled the blanket over them. He looked at her and grabbed a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers.

“I was thinking about what you said,” Y/N let out a breath, “I don’t mean to compare you to him. You know I love you, right? Hell, I loved you in another timeline. You’re perfect for me and I’ll love you forever, in every universe, in every timeline. As long as I’m me, you will always be mine.”

Ben’s face softened and he pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead. “You’re so sweet. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I hope to find you in every timeline, my love.” He smiled at her before tangling his hands into her hair and falling asleep together.

[l3viat8an]

batheing with the boys, like you were about in the rain decided to take a big bath together. poly and nsfw

-🐱anon

nsfw content MDNI

Sorry for the long ass wait anon! But here it is!!! ‘n It’s seems to me that it would rain a lot in the Devildom, so I feel like this could actually happen all the time XD CW: not beta read, so there are probably typos- but mostly just fem reader gettin’ teased and fucked in a hot tub sized bathtub-

“‘Oh, I’m sure we won’t need umbrellas. It’s not supposed to rain until tonight.’ That’s the last time we listen to you about the weather!!” Satan snaps, pulling off his soaked jacket. “Lighten up! It’s just some rain, not like yer gonna melt!” Mammon snaps back taking off his own soaking wet jacket, everyone is complaining or whining about the rain, taking off wet jackets and boots in the entryway as to not drip water across the whole house….

Devildom rain was always extremely cold and while it didn’t seem to bother the demons as much it felt like ice to you.

“I’m c-cold…” your teeth chatter a bit as you take off all the wet clothes you can “Here.” Beel says from just behind you, and hands you one of the towels he went and grabbed out of the bathroom.

“That rain was like ice today. Was it even cold then usual?” Belphie asks his own teeth chatter a bit as he sits off to the side on the floor to take off his frankly ridiculous and soaking wet boots.

“Nah, you’re just never out in it long enough to get used to it.” Levi seemed the most unaffected by the rain still wearing his wet clothes like it wasn’t a big deal.

Just then Asmo claps his hands to get everybody’s attention “Well, I know just the thing that’ll help us warm up!” “Asmodeus, I am not in the mood.” Lucifer mumbles half under his breath as he takes a towel from Beel and starts dying his hair, “What?! I didn’t mean anything like that!! At least not yet~ I meant a nice, hot, bath~! Doesn’t that sound nice MC?” Asmo pulls you close and practically sings the words right by your ear. But……it does sound good, you find yourself nodding before you’d even finished considering it.

“Yay!” Asmo loops his arm with yours and starts walking to his bathroom, “Hey, what about the rest of us?” Beel asks sounding a little upset, after all it seems like Asmo’s getting alone time with you.

“I never said you couldn’t join~ the bathtub should have enough room for an extra guest or maybe more~!” Asmo didn’t actually stop to answer still making his way up the stairs with you in step beside him.

You can hear the others arguing as you walk away, some about joining or not Levi whining about Asmo always getting his way and so on-

Once you get to Asmo’s bathroom (after a quick detour to his room to grab your matching fuzzy bathrobes ofc!) Asmo starts the water and puts a few assorted oils and bath potions in and it smells amazing~ just like your favorite flowers as stem starts filling the room.

Asmo hums a little to himself before turning back to where you’re standing still by the door “Sweetie, what are you waiting for? Strip already~ I mean, really those wet clothes have to feel horrible and you can hardly get in the tub that way.” Asmo turns away again after you nod, and starts taking off his own clothes, tossing them into a small pile by the side of the tub.

As soon as you’re naked and walking to the tub Asmo does a little wolf whistle “So, sexy~ even when you’re shivering sweetie~ but hurry and up get in already!” “I am Asmo! I don’t want to burn my skin like last time.” you joke a bit, the water had never been hot enough to burn you, but Asmo did like HOT baths “Oh, stop being silly!” Asmo pulled you all the way into the tub and into his lap, “See~ I’m feeling warmer already~” before Asmo has the chance to do anything else the door bangs open and Mammon, Levi and Satan all walk in.

They’d changed clothes- well they’d taken off the wet clothes anyway and simply had towels wrapped around their waist. “Oooh look who decided to join us after all~” Asmo pulls you with him as he moves to sit by the wall of the tub, “Well, we can hardly leave you and MC alone together.” Satan says taking his towel off and making his way into the tub first.

“Yea! Who knows what ya’d get up to without us watchin’ ya!” Mammon’s next and he moves to sit right next to Asmo and pull you away from the younger demon, “Please, Mammon. It’s not what they’ll get upto, it’s that you want in on it.” Levi says rolling, his eyes as he sinks into the warm water staying a little ways away from you and the others for now.

“Ya say that like you didn’t run into my room, wearin’ nothing but that TOWEL and askin’ when we were gonna head over.” Mammon says glaring at Levi, who’s turning an adorable shade of red-

“W-w-well what about Satan huh?! He was already standing outside the door when we got here!!” Levi stammers out, his face somehow turning redder.

“Keep me out of your dumb arguments.” Satan’s says simply, rolling his eyes at their antics.

You’d been sitting here -now in Mammon’s lap- just listening to their little argument and couldn’t help the laugh that slipped passed your lips, “What was that for?” “Oh~ what’s so funny?” “Nothing!” You say between giggles “It’s just….Levi running to get Mammon before coming over and Satan standing out the door..” you fall into a fit of giggles. The idea that these goofs being the same demons that run hell always makes you laugh-

“You’re laughing at us?” Satan sounded a bit offended as he moves to stand in front of you and Mammon in the tub “N-not exactly!” You giggle out and Satan grabs your chin making you keep eye contact with him, “But you are. You know that’s not a very nice thing to do MC.” You can feel Mammon shifting a little behind you and then lips nipping at the back of your neck “Satan’s got a point darlin’ it ain’t nice to laugh at others.” The words are mumbled right against your neck but you can still hear them clearly, “I….I didn’t mean anything like that…” now you’re shifting a bit in Mammon’s lap heat pooling in your gut, eyes still locked with Satan’s.

You can hear the water sloshing a bit and suddenly Levi is in your peripheral vision, and you can feel Asmo running the fingertips of one hand up and down your side as Mammon shifts your hips a bit so you can grind against his cock. You let out a gasp at the moment and Satan takes the opportunity to pull you into a kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth and tangling with yours.

Before you can get any further, you hear Levi jump back again as the door opens again. Breaking away from Satan’s lips you turn and see Beel and Belphie walking in “See, I told you they’d start without us.” Beel frowns a bit as he gets into the tub, “And I said you could go ahead.” The younger demon rolls his eyes, “It’s about time you two joined us~!” Asmo purrs, “Huh, I really thought he’d be here already.” Belphie says looking around and noticing someone’s still missing.

“Don’t say anything. It’s better without him here anyway.” Satan hisses. You roll your eyes, “Are you two ever going to get over Lucifer just existing?”

“No. Next question?” Belphie say, moving to take the place Levi had been previously and watching hand already moving to stroke his half hard cock, as you try to subtly grind against Mammon again, “I think our human’s gettin’ needy.” Mammon says as he starts grinding up into you again, dick never actually entering you just rubbing against your pussy and occasionally bumping your clit making you gasp here and there.

“I think you’re right~” Asmo purrs again, his hands moving to tug ‘n play with your nipples~

“H-hey no fair…” you had pout, they’re always teasing and touching you, sometimes it’s really just not fair! Your hands reach out, one moving to grab Satan’s cock and start jerking him off, the water soft of acting as a lubricant.

Satan smirks down at you “Someone really is desperate~” one of his hand runs through your hair but grabbing a handful of it and tilting your head to face him again, lips meeting yours in a much harder kiss as your hips buck with Mammon’s and Asmo plays with your chest~ fuck it feels good and you’re moaning into Satan’s mouth.

When you break apart for air Satan’s eyes meet your again, but before he can say anything or just kiss you again, Levi’s pushing him out of the way. Satan looks like he’s about to say something (I mean he was in the middle of a handjob Levi c’mon-) but Levi doesn’t care, he’s too busy pulling you closer to him and off of Mammon; much to your and Mammon’s protest “Levi you son of a bitch what are ya doin’?!” Mammon grabs your hips trying to hold you still and you whine at the loss of stimulation “I want my turn.” Levi hisses pulling you all the way away from Mammon and turning so your back is against one of the warm tile walls, helping you wrap your legs around his waist and rutting his cock against you, “Then you should wait- L-Levi-” you try to half reprimand, half tease Levi a bit, but before you can say too much he’s lining his cock up and sinking into your warm walls, he really wanting to feel you first~

Levi stays still for a minute panting into your neck as you adjust to his size, it’s always a bit of a stretch with any of them.

“G-gonna move now….” Levi whispers against your skin, placing a few soft kisses and nips~ all you can do is nod and pant, it felt good finally getting what you’d been thinking about since you got into the tub with Asmo.

Levi starts slowly, one of his hands moving to give your clit a bit of attention while he works up his pace.

You let out little moans and whines as he moves it feels so good and he knows exactly what to do to have you cumming around him fast, your eyes had squeezed closed when Levi first bottomed out so now you open them and damn~ what a view, for you looking over Levi’s shoulder anyway-

The others all have their eyes locked on you, as they jerk off completely ignoring Levi and each other 5 pairs of eyes watch, you, and your face, taking in the dazed look in your eyes and the way your mouth makes an ‘O’ as you moan.

None of them think it’s fair that Levi’s going first when obviously he would have been better, but they can’t protest too much when you look like that~

The sounds of your moans, water splashing and skin slapping against skin fill the room as well as the boys moans it’s a sinful melody, but so erotic you feel yourself getting so, so close.

And Levi must be too his hips are stuttering more and his fingers are rubbing and playing with your clit nonstop now “N-need you to cum with me MC? C-come on, p-please cum with me..” Levi whines into your neck again, nipping at the skin as his hips meet yours one last time as you both moan and cum.

If you’d still been looking you would’ve seen the others finishing on their hands or slowing down waiting for Levi to be done.

Just as Levi’s pulling out and asking if you’re alright, while Mammon and Belphie argue about who gets to go next-

The door clicks open again, “You’re all far too loud.” Lucifer says simply, pulling off his robe and stepping into the tub, immediately making his way towards you and pulling you into his chest, “But I suppose it’s all your fault love. I think it’s only right, you should help me teach them a little lesson in have patience~”

Y’all just keep fucking- because the others are gonna whine until they get a turn- or until you need a break :)

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (12)

In which the Ferrari gang tackles Austria

series masterlist

Note: YAY their relationship is finally starting to develop more teehee. Let me know if you have feedback or if you want to be added to the taglist. Warning: mentions of an erection, mildly sexual

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang sound of music type beat

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, alexandrasaintmleux and 100,753

dior.n.goodjohn OMG THE COWS ARE SO CUTE

-- aubreyyang ikr I got to pet them I can die happy

user1 MOTHERS they're so pretty ughhh

-- user2 oh to be traveling with f1 drivers over europe

charles_leclerc pic creds for first slide and also THATS MY GF

-- aubreyyang not with that attitude

-- user3 BAHAH they're so funny bye

walker.scobell oh look its you on the third slide

-- aubreyyang I bought you a t shirt im throwing it out the window

-- walker.scobell NOOO I TAKE IT BACK

-- pjo.fandom.08 aww shes so older sibling

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

hey cherie! I think Charles and I are going to stay in for today the hiking yesterday knocked us out

aubrey 🎬

aww okayy

we'll have dinner or lunch today tho?

alex 🖼️

bien sur!!

MESSAGES

aubrey

morning!

ollie

good morning :)

aubrey

charl and lex aren't coming to explore the city are you still up for it?

ollie

yeah ill come pick you up at ur room

Ollie silently thanked Charles and his old age: a whole morning alone with Aubrey.

“Hey.” Ollie smiled down at Aubrey when she cracked open her door at his knock.

“Morning! You wanna come in for a second? I need to put my shoes on before we go.” She pushed her earring backing on, turning as he let himself in. 

She was wearing a tiny top with no straps the colour of a ripe peach and a white skirt. The heat was unbearable, so her hair was pushed from her face in a long, pretty tail. He wondered how she would react if he smoothed his fingers along her soft, tanned skin  or if he ran his tugged at her dark hair. 

Friends, he reminded himself. But she was so…

He thumped onto her bed face down, earning a giggle from Aubrey. He flipped back up goofily, a little taken a back by the strong smell of her shampoo and perfume while she puttered around the room, retrieving knick knacks and dropping them into her little handbag. 

He pretended for one moment that she was his, and that he didn’t have to take her presence in like a drowning man gasping for air. He wouldn’t mind drowning in her, if this was the sight he would be greeted by everyday. 

“Dude. Stop staring at me like that.” She scrunched her nose. 

“Sorry.” He murmured, not sounding sorry at all. 

She tugged her sambas on, falling onto the bed next to him. He sighed, closing his eyes when she ran one hand through his hair, fingernails catching pleasantly on his scalp. 

He bit back a noise that would surely embarrass himself. 

“Tired? We can stay back today if you want.” The morning light glowed yellow beyond his eyelids, and her soft, accented voice was husky. His chest ached for her, and she was barely a foot away. 

“No, s’alright.” His eyes fluttered open. He realized with a start that while he was flat on his back, Aubrey had propped herself up on one elbow on her side next to him. He tried his best not to look at the slender expanse of her neck and chest. He failed miserably. 

“Hmm. Some shopping, some food and then we’ll head back and take a nap?” She asked, standing and reaching a small hand out to help him. Who was he to refuse? He let her drag him up, laughing when she had to put her whole body weight behind it. 

They spent the rest of the morning perusing shops after the subway ride, not really buying anything but looking and talking. He loved having her near, loved making her smile and laugh and hit his chest when his jokes were inappropriate and childish. 

Every time she turned to tell him something - that usually made him laugh - his hand twitched to reach out to touch her. Her hand, her bare face, the small of her back. 

When they realized that they’d missed breakfast and lunch (Ollie’s stomach was starting to growl, he was still growing, thank you very much) they decided to head back and see if Charles and Alex wanted a late lunch together. 

They made their way to the subway, and Ollie grabbed her hand and slid it into the crook of his elbow with the excuse of not wanting to lose her in the crowd. He threw in a short joke with it, hoping that his need to touch her was not so obvious. 

Ever since she told him that she turned her brain off when she was with him in public, he made sure to show her that this trust she held for him was very much safe and sound. 

She hummed some pop tune as he guided her onto the train, settling them both onto seats. She was showing him Formula memes when someone beside her jostled, tossing her across his lap. 

He glared at the careless man, and hauled her easily onto his lap by her waist without thinking. She went very still, and he was about to apologize profusely or dig a hole and bury himself in it (or both) but she wiggled into a comfortable position. Even sitting on his lap, he could see past her head. As she leaned back against his chest, he carefully pulled her hair up so it was resting against his shoulder and not crushed between them. 

“Let me know if I’m too heavy, I can stand-“

He kissed his teeth with his tongue, “You weigh like 5 kilos, love.”

She let out a contented hum, turning her face into his neck. Her warm breath, her scent and the tip of her nose against his jaw was too much. 

He was a man, after all. And Aubrey was objectively one of the most beautiful, kind and decent people he’d ever met. So with her moving around on his lap and her mouth dangerously close to his neck…

“Is your phone in your pocket?” She asked, reaching behind her. Panicked, he caught her wrist. 

“That’s not-“ his ears felt hot, and she stiffened. 

“Oh.”

Great, now she thought he was a pervert who-

She was laughing. At him, because they were on a subway in Vienna with her on his lap while he had a hard on. 

She was laughing, that bright, clear sound that made him melt like wax on a candle. 

He poked her side, whining, “It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little bit-“ she moved to stand, but he locked his forearm around her waist.

“Give me a second.” He muttered, and much to his chagrin she was giggling again. 

"You know, you had me worried. I thought you weren't..." she started, shrugging, face flushed prettily, "sorry, this is weird, isn't it? You're...you're my best friend."

"You're more than my best friend. You know that." he murmured and he felt her cheek tense into a smile, "What were you going to say?"

"I thought you didn't find me attractive." she bit out, mortified.

"I'm sorry? Have you seen yourself? Of course I'm attracted to you, love. I just didn't want to scare you off."

Finally, it was their station, and they walked back to the hotel, hand in hand. 

She made fun of him all the way there, and he found that he really didn’t mind, especially if she kept smiling that wide, rosy smile. 

olliebearman posted on their story

caption: bit of shopping

aubreyyang posted on their story

caption: collecting mirror selfies in bathrooms with my girl

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux

"Good to head back?"

"Oui." Alex smoothed her hair one more time, and they returned to their boys at the small restaurant in Vienna they were eating dinner at.

When they returned to the table from the bathroom - she was seriously collecting mirror selfies from bathrooms - and sat, Ollie wrapped one large hand around the leg of her chair ( and if she had wished that it had been her calf, that was nobody’s business) and tugged her closer to himself. He slung his arm around the back of her chair, fingers grazing her shoulder. 

“Hi.” He grinned, proud of himself. Across the table, Charles made a gagging sound. Alex rolled her eyes while smiling at her boyfriend, passing Aubrey the plate of fruit. 

“Okay, so tonight we leave for France and we stay there for two days, n’est-ce pas?”

“Oui, and then do we have plans?” Charles asked as Ollie swiped a piece of orange off of Aubrey’s plate.

“Le Tour Eiffel, obviously. Louvre, maybe some shopping?” Aubrey suggested, and the boys groaned. 

“It will be fun.” She protested, and Alex smiled sweetly. 

“Sure, Aubs.” His finger traced down her shoulder, and she resisted the urge to shiver. Ollie was getting brave. Ever since their day together exploring the city, he seemed to be getting more affectionate and clingy - which she didn’t not mind one bit. 

Before the Vienna Train Incident, as Alex and Aubrey dubbed it, he had been so sweet. The perfect gentleman, always respectful and kind. She had actually wondered if he’d found her attractive at all. 

But when he had whispered low and panicked in her ear that the hardness nudging into her thigh was indeed not his phone, it was almost like a confirmation for her. In fact, she started to notice the little things: his ears would turn red when she traced the veins on his forearms while they waited for Alex and Charles to come down to the lobby, his eyes seemed to be magnetic against her back whenever she wore a sundress (floral usually. He really liked pale yellow. Not that she was taking note) and his hands almost always drifted to her like he wasn’t thinking. 

She was gaining confidence; that little voice in her head that kept telling her she would be so happy and safe with him if she would just her herself try…

He could make her so happy. If being friends with him was that great, being his girlfriend would be a dream. She just wanted to make sure. 

An idea came to her head, and she looked down. Ollie liked to manspread, so his knee was knocking into her crossed legs. Aha. The shoes she’d chosen for tonight were nice white heels with pointed toes. Very slowly and deliberately, she hooked the point of the shoe under his pant leg and dragged it up his skin. He choked on his water, coughing. And, bingo. His ears were turning that endearing Ferrari colour. 

“You alright, mate?” Charles asked. Aubrey saw through her peripheral that the tall man beside her was most definitely looking at her accusingly. Cute. 

“Yeah, sorry. Choked. So-“ he cleared his throat. “Shopping probably the second day, yeah? Maybe a nice dinner and then we leave for the south?”

“Mm. I think you are right, Ollie,” Alex brushed a crumb off of Charles’s shirt, “the Louvre will take a while. I want pictures.”

“Sounds good.” A very large, warm calloused hand just landed on her knee, sliding slowly up to her thigh. His pinky finger - probably as long as her pointer - slipped under her skirt. Her breath caught, but no choking occurred. 

“Let’s head out then?” Charles asked, waving for the check. 

Disappointed, Aubrey felt Ollie’s hand leave her skin, feeling suddenly cold. But then he draped a heavy arm around her shoulder when they stood, waiting for the other couple to join them in their trek back to the hotel. 

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237 @ilivbullyingjeongin

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[togrowoldinv]

Cheeseburgers

Brie Larson x Reader

When you accompany Brie to an award show, your feelings for her are revealed

Note: First Brie fic yay! This is a fluffy little something. I hope y’all enjoy!

Main Masterlist

When the door opens, your breath catches in your throat. Standing in front of you is the most beautiful woman in the world. You know for sure that you’re in love with her.

But she is only your best friend.

“So, what do you think?” Brie asks you. She steps closer to you and spins so you can get a full view of her outfit.

“You are so beautiful,” you tell her. She smiles so wide that her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you, y/n. I’m so glad you’re coming with me tonight.”  

Her hair and makeup artists get to work on her again, and she ushers you to get dressed. It isn’t the first event Brie has taken you to, but it is definitely the most dressed-up you have gotten. You wear colors that match her perfectly.

Once you’re both ready to go, you ride in the car with her. Brie talks your head off about the evening that’s coming up. She tells you that she’s most excited about getting a cheeseburger afterward. That makes you chuckle.

“Are you ready?” Brie asks when the car stops.

“Oh, I thought I would be going in a different way,” you reply. She usually goes on the carpet without you.

“I want you to come with me. Please?”

You say yes. As if you could ever say no to her and that precious pouty face she makes when she wants something.

The red carpet is a bit overwhelming, but Brie keeps her hand in yours as long as she can. It feels so natural. You wonder if she feels it, too.

She does her photos and interviews flawlessly, as always. You watch on in awe. Once inside, you settle at your table. You make small talk with the other people. Brie is a natural at captivating everyone. She reunites with some old castmates.

When it comes time for her category, she reaches for your hand under the table.

“You’re going to win,” you whisper to her.

It’s not about the awards, but you know she secretly hopes she will win. When the camera pans to her, she offers a shy smile. The presenters open the envelope and call her name.

“Yes!” You cheer, being the first to stand up. Brie hugs you, and you kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”

She shares a few more hugs on her way to the stage as the applause erupts all throughout the building.

“Thank you,” Brie says, taking the award into her hands. “Wow, I didn’t prepare a speech, but I will wing it.” She continues on to give an amazing speech, not to your surprise. She has always been a natural speaker.

“And thank you to my amazing friends and family. Especially my y/n. I wouldn’t be where I am without you,” she finishes.

The crowd cheers for her again. You can’t help but tear up at how proud of her you are. She takes photos backstage before she comes back to the table.

You greet her with a huge hug. Even bigger than the one before. She hugs you so tight that you can barely breathe.

“I’m so proud of you, Brie,” you tell her again.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice breaking a little.

“Are you alright?” You ask her.

She pulls away from the hug just enough to look you in the eye. You hold her face in your hands, and she sees the way you care for her in your eyes. You feel like the only two people in the room.

“Y/n,” Brie begins.

You interrupt her with a kiss to her lips. She kisses you back, her hand finding a way to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You’re both smiling so much that you have to stop kissing.

“I love you,” Brie says.

“I love you, Brie. I always have,” you reply.

Brie kisses you again before you two come back to reality. The commercial break is over, and you have to sit down. You hold her hand under the table for the rest of the night.

When the night is almost over, Brie gets her cheeseburger that she’s been waiting for.

“Still the best part of the night?” You ask her.

“No,” she says. Brie kisses your lips softly, but she lingers long enough that you want to chase after her for more. “That’s the best part.”

“I agree, sweetheart.”

“Come home with me?” She asks, a glint in her eye.

You take her hand and leave the awards show together. After parties are the last thing on your mind. You just want to spend the night with the most beautiful girl in the world.

She is finally yours.

[fairyyobrien]

Spin The Bottle Stilinski

- this wasn’t requested but oh my god it’s been on my mind for so long. Hope y’all enjoy, this is honestly my first time writing smut so bare with me please

Warnings: smut. might be cringe. takes place in season 1, oh yea buzz cut stiles ;) some fluff

Summary: Reader and Stiles are ex best friends and get dragged to a party, they end up playing spin the bottle and reader gives Stiles a little treat

“y/n pleaseeee please come to this party with me. It’s the party of year!”

“i don’t know alison.. I’m not really in a party mood tonight..”

“y/n come on look at me, look I know it’s hard getting cheated on.. it’s been over a month, and you know you deserve to have some fun. I don’t wanna pressure you I just think it’d be good for you”

you turn around and take a good look at your best friend, she was right. you deserved this, you may have got your heart broken but you weren’t gonna let some stupid jock get the best of you.

“okay let’s do this! let’s go”

alison jumps up squealing, “yay! lets go shopping!”

“you know dude alison told me y/n is going to the party” scott says taking a sip out of his cup while looking at his best friend.

stiles rolls his eyes “uhh.. cool I guess?” he says slamming the buttons on his Xbox controller.

“we all know how you feel about her”

“that’s all in the past besides me and y/n hardly ever speak anymore.. and she has a boyfriend anyways” he shrugs, eyes still glued to the tv

“um actually y/n is single now..”

“Oh..”

“if i were you i’d wear something really nice” scott implies, making stiles rethink his choices.

*hours later*

you and alison arrived at the party, you followed her to the snack table where you were greeted with Scott and Stiles, she kissed Scott’s cheek.

“hey guys”

“hey y/n you doing good?” scott asked.

“eh.. you know me, always working”

“she’s not lying I basically had to beg her to come” alison playfully rolled her eyes

“hey sti” you smiled. “h-hey y/n”

“it’s been a while since we talked I miss you” you said hugging him softly. “yeah.. me too” he sighs looking down, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets.

after 15 minutes everyone ended up on the floor playing spin the bottle.

the bottle was passed down to stiles’s, he stared at the bottle for a good minute until he heard the words, “Spin the bottle Stilinski what are you waiting on?” he grabbed the bottle nervously and spun. he didn’t even wanna play but scott dared him and he wasn’t turning down a dare.

his jaw dropped to the floor once it landed on you. he nervously looked in scott’s direction noticing him and alison trying to retain their giggles. he then locked eyes with you smiling at you with his usual goofy awkward smile. you smile back slightly blushing.

“come on you two what you waiting on? you guys already know your way to the closet”.

stiles slowly stands up, walking your way leaning his hand down to grab yours. you nervously smile at him and grab his hand. you two make your way to the closet and he shuts the door. you don’t notice the smirks on scott’s and alison’s face as you walk away.

“soo…” stiles awkwardly says leaning against the wall.

“stiles lets talk. what happened with us?”

“what do you mean y/n?”

“why don’t we hang out anymore.. i mean we used to be so close. i miss it. i miss you.. i miss us. our friendship”

“okay I’m just gonna say it. that’s the problem y/n. it was always just “friendship” with you.. i’ve loved you for years and i couldn’t do it anymore so i distanced myself. i’m sorry” as soon as the words slipped from his mouth, stiles looked taken back at himself, he quickly turned around facing the wall and kicked at it.

“stiles look at me” he slowly turned around looking down at the floor. “you’re an idiot” you started giggling. “that doesn’t make me feel any better”. you rolled your eyes at him “stiles, i’ve always had feelings for you”

“y-you what?” his eyes widened. “Yeah..i’ve always had and still have feelings for you”. stiles pressed you up against the wall and kissed you passionately, he was surprised at his sudden boost of confidence. this wasn’t yours and stiles first kiss, you once practiced kissing with each other in the 7th grade, that was when stiles discovered his feelings for you.

the kiss started to heat up, he kissed up your jaw making you moan slightly. “sti I wanna try something” you whisper pulling away. he raised an eyebrow “okay, what do you have in mind?” you get on your knees and unzip stiles’s pants, his eyes widened once more when he realizes. “o-oh” he blushes deeply.

you pull his briefs down and he tenses up and gives out a shaky breath. ��stiles i can stop if it’s too much..”

“n-no don’t stop.. i just can’t believe this is actually happening”you smirk at him, “wow sti, you’re the perfect size” you say making his face flush with red and making him hardened.

you grip his cock in your hand and start to massage. stiles lets out a soft moan, “y/n.. please”

“does it feel good?”

“Y-yes” he pants.

“how about this?” you lick around his tip. he throws his head back “ohh oh my g-god” he puts his hand over his mouth to drown out his crys and whimpers. you continue to lick, then move on to sucking. stiles takes his other hand into your hair making a ponytail. he starts thrusting into your mouth, making you nearly choke and your eyes slightly water.

you continue bobbing your head, and begin licking up and down once again. you go back to licking around the tip, slowing down then speeding back up, you begin placing kissing around stiles’s thighs, making him shiver and squirm. you wanted to make sure to give stiles the best head he could possibly receive. you make you way back down to stiles cock, and start sucking again.

“y/n I’m so close I’m-”

“hmm” you hum and he starts thrusting faster, gripping your head harder.

“i’m bout to-” he throws his back once again with the most obvious moan, so loud that the crowd just a couple steps away could probably hear it.

you pull away with a ‘pop’ quickly swallowing. stiles takes your hand into his helping you up. he was still trying to catch his breath as you helped him pull up his pants, you teased him by rubbing his now sensitive cock. he moaned again “y-y/n” you giggled and smirked at him. “come ere” he whispered pulling you in for the most passionate kiss. “god I love you so much. t-that was amazing oh my god. wow. you have a mouth of a goddess”.

“i love you too” you giggle at his reaction.

“y-you know I was thinking I could do the same to you sometime if you’re comfortable with it of course”. Your cheeks reddened, and you felt the heat from your core as the thoughts of stiles’s mouth on your wet p*ssy lingered in your mind.

“i would love that” you say and kiss his lips softly. you both pull away and straighten yourselves up looking as innocent as you possibly can. stiles opens up the door with you following behind. you both walk up to your friends, “hey guys, that was quite a while” scott teases earning an awkward laugh from stiles and a blush from you.

“y/n you ready to go back to my house?” alison asks grabbing her keys from her bag. “Oh definitely” you say yawning.

“bye scott.. bye stiles” you wave and walk away.

“duuuude” scott nudges stiles. “what?” he covers his mouth trying to cover up the blush forming. “let’s just say we all know it wasn’t PG-13 in there” he teases. “i’m guessing you guys worked things out, yes?” stiles looks back up grinning, “oh yeah everything’s definitely worked out”

that night he lied in bed replaying the images in his mind and he couldn’t wait to do the same to you.

—

im sorry if this is sooo long. hopefully it was enjoyable. i really tried! 😭