#lemme know if you want me to put warning tags

[nereidprinc3ss]

hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied. 

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details. 

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name. 

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror. 

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause. 

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it. 

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort. 

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is. 

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably. 

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing. 

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—” 

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face. 

Oh. He was fucking with you. 

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer. 

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.  

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you. 

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.  

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies. 

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic. 

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you. 

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room. 

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder. 

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back. 

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately. 

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin. 

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are. 

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer. 

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach. 

Something resembling jealousy. 

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid. 

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you. 

You swallow and try to act like yourself. 

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it���s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see. 

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.  

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in. 

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively. 

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place. 

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable. 

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job. 

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it. 

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown. 

She makes a good point. 

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail. 

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut. 

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer. 

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl. 

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen. 

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny. 

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are. 

[sugarstainzz]

IMPATIENCE KILLS - HAN JISUNG // warnings beneath break 

genre. smut pairing. han jisung x gn!afab reader  sum. your poor, needy boyfriend is desperate for a bit of relief, and it’s impossible to ignore him word count. 1.3k

tags. kinda sub!jisung, soft dom!reader, needy sex, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), ruined orgasm, implied oral at the end, a bit of biting, “mama” is used quite a bit, pt.2

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

han jisung is a needy little bitch. 

obviously you know this. you’ve known it for a while. even before you were dating you could tell. the way he stared at you for a bit too long, how he never even joked about attempting nnn, how he hated sleepovers because he “needs privacy at night.” and this neediness only became more obvious after you got with him. 

the stares escalated to groping, squeezes and caresses instead of gazes and knuckle brushing. the ass grabbing, the voice notes begging you to come home faster, jumping between your thighs when he was so sure- and dead wrong - that you were sleeping. 

it’s not that he wants to cum all the time. he just kinda needs to. his thick cock has a mind of its own, always hard and leaking over anything and everything. 

this is especially obvious right now. 

you were working on making some dinner for the two of you. nothing fancy, it’s movie night food. instant noodles with a bit of bacon and egg to liven it up. the alcoholic horse on your screen is the most important thing. or at least, you thought it was. 

jisung coming up behind you wasn’t anything to pay attention to. neither were his arms around your waist or the gentle brush of his lips on your neck. but as the gentle kisses deepen and you feel his groin press against the soft form of your ass, it becomes a bit clearer. 

the hard-on rubbing against you makes it quite obvious. 

“you want something?” you ask him, your voice a quiet hum. he doesn’t say anything back. he just whines and grinds into you. his dick is getting harder in his sweats and it’s even harder not to fantasize about it. 

“sungie.” you start again, managing to keep your composure. “do you want something, baby?”

“wan’ you…” he whines. “wanna put it in. needa put it in.”

“you gotta wait a bit.” you say, patting his hand. “i’m still cooking.” he shakes his head, nose brushing against the back of your neck. 

“don’t make me waittttt.” he cries. “please y/nnnn. i’m so hard it hurts i need it so bad please.”

you sigh, setting the noodles to the side. they need to steep for a couple more minutes anyways.

“you need it?” you ask him.

“mhm~”

“you neeeeed it?”

“so bad. please~”

you can’t help but giggle. he’s so whiny, it’s perfect. damn near crying and you haven’t even done anything. it’s already getting you wet.

“please what?” you whisper. 

he squirms a little bit behind you, desperate for relief. you can feel where the head of his cock poking his thigh- the fabric before it is already soaked in precum. you shiver a bit, your sopping cunt clenching around nothing. god, he’s so leaky. 

“please lemme put it in~” he starts. “i want you so badly, y/n. i promise i’ll make you feel good too. just lemme fuck you please.” fuck, he’s so good at begging. 

you don’t say anything, afraid your tone will give away your own desperation. instead, you gently break out of his hug and bend over, resting your torso on the cool countertop. 

jisung immediately drops down behind you, fingertips rubbing against your cloth-covered pussy. the black fabric of your panties is soaked with arousal, sticking uncomfortably to your skin. 

“so pretty…” he whines to himself. he gently peels your underwear off, letting it fall down your thighs and pool at your ankles. he plants a kiss on your entrance, licking a fat stripe up the length of your cunt. you lock your knees, ready to get some needy, pussy-drunk head, but he pulls away. you’ve hardly a second to think before he pushes his cock in, bottoming out inside of you. 

white stars of shock twinkle across your vision for a split second. he isn’t the largest in the world, but his long enough that you like a bit of warning beforehand. and even though it’s nothing special you feel so full. Ugh…

“jisung- ugh- what the fu-”

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes. “i’m sorry i know i should’ve eaten you out but you’re so wet and i want- needed- i- i- i’ll- i’ll just wait a moment, ‘kay?” it’s a generous offer. he’s already twitching inside of you. you can feel his cock in your stomach, pressed between your plush walls and the marble countertops. it takes a moment of heavy breathing, but eventually you give him the okay to start thrusting.

and start thrusting he does.

he bunny-fucks into you, each thrust making your brain go a bit fuzzier. each snap of his hips is punctuated with the head of his cock kissing a deeper spot inside of you. even though you’re wet and relaxed, you still normally need prep, and because you didn’t get any, his cock feels even bigger than normal. it’s pressing against your g-spot so hard, and every stroke past it makes you feel ready to cum. 

“m’sorry i didn’t eat you out,” he whines again. “I know I messed up m’sorry,”

“it’s okay, baby-” you sigh between moans. “fuck- feels s’good.”

“feels good? ‘m doin’ good?”

“so- fuck- just keep fucking me sungie oh my god…” 

somewhere in his mindless haze, he remembers to give your throbbing clit a bit of attention. his slender fingers tease you, your slick making his hand slide around sloppily. he rests against your back, whining in frustration as he tries to make you cum. 

“y’needa cum, baby…” he mutters. “please cum i know this pretty pussy can come for me please cum…” he’s not even teasing or coaxing. so soon he’s desperate for you to climax so he can feel the spasming of your cunt around him. he needs to feel the rush of it, hear the moaning when your orgasm hits you. and you need it even more. it’s as though his desperation has rubbed off on you. each whine, each moan, each spasm of his fingers and stutter of his hips behind you pushes you further into madness. 

you’re so close. so so close to the edge. you’re shuddering with it, with the tightness building in your belly. your skin tingles and burns in the best way, his slick-coated fingers pushing you to the abyss. but his movements are becoming erratic and choppy again. he just can’t hold on any longer.

“fuck- ‘m gonna cum~!” he whines loudly. 

“ya g’na cum?” you ask him. “sungie’s gon-gonna cum?”

“mhm~”

“you sure you can’t hold on a sec-second longer?”

“no mama ‘m sorry sung-sungie’s gotta cum i can’t hold it ‘nymore i jus’ gotta please-” 

your mind goes so fuzzy. you wanna be mean so bad. you wanna tell him to hold on, to cum before him, to have him fuck into you until he’s crying and begging but he just sounds so so sweet…

“mama?”

“you can cum, sungie,” you pant

he keens.

he unloads inside of you and bites into your shoulder so damn hard you think it’s bleeding. jisung finishes hard, and his warm cum is building up inside of you, coating your walls. he pants against your body, teeth still clamped on as his softening cock slips out with a wet pop. semen spatters against the tile floor, sticky against your thighs and ankles. your elbows shake with pleasure and your ruined orgasm. he’s mumbling nothing into your skin, you can’t understand a single thing he says.

gingerly, he grabs your shoulder and turns you around. you’re still trying to catch your breath and don’t fully register him sinking to his knees until his fingers are squeezing your thighs, beckoning them to open. 

“jisung?” you ask, going a bit rigid as he kisses your throbbing clit, ignoring the cum dripping onto his chin.

“‘m not g’na jus’ let you not cum..."

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

a/n. helloooo my loves! thanks sm for reading- i haven't written anything in a super long time, so soz for anything choppy or nonsensical. stick around if u wanna see more, and always feel free to shoot me a req or drabble or what have you. mwah mwah mwah -sugar🤍

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol Switcharoo (pt2)

Stan pines x reader /ford pines x reader

Summary: Your family vacation lasted longer than expected. When you return home to Stanford, you realize quickly something wrong.

Warning: NONE

Hey! Just some housekeeping before you read on

☆Thanks for all the love ya'll it means bunches

☆this part is shorter do to me wanting to pace this better, but I hope yall enjoy none the less!

☆a few of ya'll asked to be tagged so I'm starting a tag list if you'd like to be included don't hesitate to ask

☆additionally I did have a Playlist for this specific series and if ya'll would like me to post the songs for it also lemme know

Enjoy!

~~~~~☆~~~~~

"STANLEY HELP!"

Stan felt himself freeze up, his heart race and mind go blank, why couldn't he think? Why couldn't he move?

He watched in horror as his brother floated up backwards through the air into the gaping hole in space and time.

"Do something!"

"What...what do i do!?" He asked meekly, looking around for something to help.he watched as parts of his brother slowly disappeared, and as he reached into his coat pocket and tossed something at him. "Hide my research...CALLL Y/N ANYTHING-"

Stan shielded his eyes as a bright white light filled the room and knocked him back onto the floor. The room was suddenly quiet.

"Ford!?...Ford! Come back!" He wasted no time to get back up and bang on the machine, hoping it would start back up like an old appliance. "Please!"

He raced to the lever a few feet away, desperately pulling and yanking at it, but it didn't budge.

"Stanford!?...Ford!? Are you home yet!?" The small coo of an unfamiliar voice snapped Stan from his nightmare.

"Hello!?" The voice echoed out again. He quickly got up, reaching for his only form of security. A baseball bat.

The voice had gone silent, but he could still hear someone moving he took a long pause, then opened the door swinging his bad.

"FORD WAIT! WAIT, IT'S ME! ITS Y/N!!"

Y/n?

He stopped swinging the bat and stared down at you.

"Call y/n! Anything-"

"Y/n?"

"Yes, it's me, Ford! I haven't been gone that long have i?"

He cleared. "No not at all we have some catching up to do."

You could tell there was something ford...well stan (you'd have to get used to the sudden name change) wanted to tell you while you sat across from him. Like he wanted to give you bad news. But he seemed to be thinking of the right way to put it.

"So..stan...what made you want to change from Ford to stan? Did your family have that much of an impact on you?" You tried to joke to lighten the tension that seemed to linger in the air.

"Well...something like that...listen y/n-"

"Are you OK? You seem...different you seem nervous...more nervous then when I left.." You placed your hand over top of his and offered a reasuring smile.

"I..."

stan didn't know you...he had no right to lie to you. But Ford seemed to trust you and judging from the photo on his desk in the basement, how fondly he seemed to write about you in the journal...the scrapped drawings of you in the garbage you meant a whole lot more to him then stan could understand right now, you must have felt the same way about his brother.

He remembered how worried his brother had been in making sure he understood you were absolutely under no circumstances to not touch the journals or anything pertaining to it again.

"My closest friend y/n and I have been working on this project for months now...I should have listened to her but I didn't...I need you to get rid of this journal she can't be near any of this when she returns."

"Did something happen with the portal?...with that...creature? And what happened to your hands!" You said now, pulling both hands into yours to examine them.

Besides, you already seemed so worried. He couldn't be the one to break the news to you. Not now.

Besides, he had a plan.

Sort of.

So he did what he did best.

Lied.

"Well...uh while you were away, I had a little accident. I had to get surgery...yea surgery, and the accident you know was from the portal...so I said, Forget the whole thing! "

He Tried to say it in a way that would convince even himself.

"Stanford, what do you mean? What happened? Are you just going to give up on everything we worked for?"

"I have to, I just need some time."

Neither of you noticed at first that you were holding hands as you spoke. Stan was the first to notice the closeness. It was the first time in what felt like years that anyone had shown him this kind of affection, let alone the kindness you were demonstrating with your concern.

"I don't know what happened while I was away or when you even had time for something to go wrong or why you would even start working again without me!" He noticed the slight annoyance building up and squeezed your hand.

And you took a breath. "But I understand and I won't pretend to know what happened and if you aren't ready to tell me I can respect that...things got a little rocky between us before I left and I'm really just hoping things can go back to the way they used to be with us. If a longer break and time is what you need... then I am 100% behind your decision."

He felt a wave of relief wash over him at your words. Maybe it wasn't your words but the kind-hearted look in your eyes, or maybe it was the way you still held his hands in yours.

You'd be the first two admit two things about your current situation.

One, Nostalgia was a funny thing. You knew when something was off about your bestfriend, the man infront of you was was a changed man, while his story didn't add up he looked shaken and defeated...after all this was the man you trusted with half your life. And you wouldn't lie, you had clung so desperately to the memories of college and spring through winter, it was that glimmer of hope and a mix of Nostalgia for your good times together that made you believe him.

And two, You always knew better then to trust your heart you and Ford would joke about the idea of following your heart and not your brain, how silly a concept it was that the organ that pumped blood through your body had such a pull on your decision making it made your thought process stop.

Yet here you where.

Following your heart.

"How about a few drinks and I can tell you about my trip?" You offered standing and being the first to break the lock between your hands. "And I can tell you about the plans I have for this place!"

"Plans?"

"Sure! I mean, we aren't doing our science junk anymore, so we need to make money somehow, right?"

You set down two glasses.

"Ok?"

You sat down, you listened to him explain how he had already done a few tours displaying whatever you had already had laying around and how people where eating it up.

"Stanford you've never been one for the gimmicky tricks, you've always cared more about the real deal...WE'VE been about the real deal...why lie to people?"

"Trust me y/n do a tour with me tomorrow try to show the people a real life monster and whatchamacallit and put it up against my made up creature."

You laughed. This wasn't what you had expected Stanford pines to spend his break away from work doing. It was out of character for him. But refreshing somehow.

Just like that, the seasons changed, and it was spring again

You learned quickly people didn't like the truth.

Real monsters and ghouls seemed to only upset or bother people so you and stan collaborated a way to make attractions that seemed real enough but also gimmicky enough that tourists would eventually laugh at it.

You learned pretty quickly that you were not only a pretty crafty person but an excellent storyteller.

You and Stanford seemed to almost pick up where you left off bonding and cracking jokes. It was like he was more confident than when you left him, more relaxed and full of life. You two fit right back into place with eachother with out missing a beat.

It's exactly what you'd been missing.

Soon, you were renovating half the house to be a showroom and giftshop, and soon after you were selling and wearing t shirts, you began putting up a sign. By the following summer, you were basically an operational business.

The mystery shack felt more like a brain child of you and Stanford and you cared for it like such.

It was something fun.

Something that didn't seem to be running Stanford down like the science stuff did. You could see a genuine smile on his face as he showed some local kid the corni-corn.

It was silly. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done something silly and adventurous.

It felt good.

"Another day another dollar y/n my dear." Stan said, flipping the open sign to close and placing his little red fez cap on top of your head.

"Soon enough, we'll have people from all over the place coming to get a piece of the mystery shack." He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, leading you back to the section of the Mystery shack that was still your shared home.

"Yea, we have a real Walt Disney start-up story, don't we stanford." He laughed loudly before suddenly getting serious.

"Listen. I wanted to say thank you for sticking with me through this. It means a lot."

"Of course, stanford." You reached up and planted a small peck on his cheeks. "We've been through everything together. I'm not going to stop now."

You could see stans face flush slightly as you stretched and yawned. "Anyways goodnight stanford."

"Uh yea...goodnight..." You heard him mumble as he touched his cheek where you kissed him.

Things where looking up.

~~~~~☆~~~~~

Tag list!:

@fanficcrow

@slay-thou-pookie

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ iv ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warning/s: sexual content but it's nothing too explicit. also angst angst angst.

author's note: NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. also, lemme know what u guys think!! would love to read it honestly. it was what had been keeping me inspired.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @leclercdream

masterlist.

You have three philosophies in life.

Pussies do not get the good stuff. If you want the good stuff, don't be a pussy.

Hard work will pay off one day. In the meantime, work hard but don't work too hard. You work smart and make it seem like you're working hard so by the time your “hard” work pays off, you’re not too tired from working and still have energy to enjoy your reward, you know? Does that make sense?

Whatever Max Verstappen wanted, Max Verstappen would get.

Now let us focus on philosophy number three. It's a shitty philosophy to have, but when you're working as the manager of Red Bull’s golden boy—after Sebastian Vettel, of course—that philosophy sort of becomes the job description. It's your job to give whatever Max Verstappen wanted, whatever he needed.

When he asks you that question, sounding so innocent as if he hasn't just yanked your entire world off its axis by saying those words, your first reaction is to pull up the middle finger. Fuck you, Max. Max is an asshole for asking you that. Max is an absolute asshole for asking you for a kiss. For the five years you've worked for him, he should already be aware of the power he holds over your head. Should be aware that you'll give anything he'll ask. That's why he should be careful with what he's asking from you.

Said asshole has the audacity to pout. He resembled the pet duck who lived in your Abuelo's farm that you were very fond of in your childhood. Her name was Maria and she was a menace. Your Abuelo even tied a pink bow to the duck’s neck so it could be easily recognizable. A 181-cm tall, broad-shouldered, blond-brown-haired Dutch duck with a blue-eyed gaze that will never fail to make your bones tremble and your heart stutter once you let yourself stare at it. You can put a bow around his neck, too, like what your Abuelo did to that duck. Then, use the bow to choke him in a way that is definitely not sexy or kinky but in a way that screams murder, murder, murder.

“That's not nice.”

“‘M not a nice person.”

“You're a nice person, you just don't do nice things.”

You give him a weird look.

“If you weren't a nice person, you would not be here with me right now,” he continues, in a manner that made him seem like a hundred-old sage imparting wisdom. “But you're here and you're not leaving and you're not hurting me so you're nice.”

His words cause something rotten to bloom in your ribs, “How are you so certain that ‘m not gonna end up hurtin’ you? For all you know, I'm gonna use this billiard stick to make you a human skewer right now.”

He laughs. God. The sound is absolutely beautiful that it terrifies you.

“You're you, [Name]. You would never hurt me.”

In a sense, he's right. You will never hurt him. Not intentionally, at least. If you wanted him to hurt, you'll be leaving right now and flying to Texas the same way Kelly did in Abu Dhabi. Because, for someone like Max, nothing in this world is more painful than to be left alone when all you yearned for is someone to be there for you.

“So……will you?” he asks again. “Will you kiss me?”

He's drunk, your brain reasons. Your fingers gently reach for his jaw—very angular, you belatedly realize—and Max chases the warmth of your skin. He does not know what he's asking, your brain reasons again. You tug him towards you and your mouth meets his, immediately registering the taste of the beer on his tongue. He’s stupid, your brain added. I’m stupid, too, you argue mentally and pushes him against the side of the billiard table and toss your stick to the floor and let yourself take everything from Max Verstappen. Fuck you Max, you think with finality. Your brain replies: You’re also fucked.

He took what he wanted from you. Every day. Every single day. He will ask and you will give. Now, it is your turn to take. One last time before the inevitable goodbye that you know will break both of your hearts.

Anger. Frustration. That's what you feel right now. Anger because this is going to make things more complicated for you and goddammit, why are you making things hard for yourself? Frustrated because you’re not supposed to do this but you cannot fucking stop. Thank fuck you resigned before pulling this shit because this is soooooo unprofessional.

You read somewhere that said something like all people are driven to the point of eating their gods after a time. And is this situation not a perfect demonstration of this? Max is your god. Max was your god. And you are going to devour him—fueled by five years of frustration and anger and a series of why, why, why didn't you talk to Horner? Now it's too late because I'm leaving all because you didn't talk to fucking Horner.

You've forgiven 2021. 2022 made your grudge grow. And you're not stupid to continue staying after his 2023 victory when it's clearly not happening—the dream that will be given to you with Max's power. You will never forgive yourself if you stayed here and be continuously reminded of what you could become, what you failed to become.

Max is surprisingly pliant under your hands. A rare occasion. One would expect Max Verstappen to take the lead because that's what he did in the race tracks. A 20-second lead from everyone else. He's also the type to just do whatever he wanted, you know? And people would let him. Because he's Max Verstappen.

Dominance. Total dominance.

“Wait,” he squeezes your arms and you do not hear him clearly the first time because you're so concentrated on his lips and how it feels and tastes against yours. “Wait, wait. Slow down.”

You pull away and you hear him take a gasp of air, “Somethin’ wrong?”

He looks so beautiful like this. Beneath you. Lips swollen. Blue eyes wide with desire. Hair perfectly messy. Grip on your arm so tight that you're sure will definitely leave a hand-shaped bruise tomorrow.

“Can’t breathe,” he says with a light laugh and you resist the urge to violently bash your head against the billiard table because what the fuck? That's not good for your heart. It's too… too… adorable. Max is not supposed to be an adorable person.

You suck in a breath and lower your head until your forehead meets Max’s firm chest.

“Fuck you,” you mumble.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

You raise your head and meet Max’s eyes, the culprit behind your insanity right now.

(Your Abuela said that blue eyes were just blue eyes. Until you fall in love with someone with blue eyes and blue becomes a color that consumed your world whole. You appreciated the sky more because it reminded you of his eyes. You appreciated the color of the seas more because it reminded you of his eyes. Blue became the color of love.)

Now what? Do you continue or…?

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Do you even need to ask?” you deadpan. Max’s hands circle around your waist and he gently guides you away from him. He dusts his shirt once he has fully risen from the billiard table before his hand finds yours. Fingers intertwining together, he leads you out of the entertainment room.

Your heart drums with anticipation. Numerous questions circle around your head but it all disappears in a flash when Max brings you to the room where you found him that morning. You wince when you walk past the broken door.

Yeah…

Making a payment plan will be hell. You're unemployed at the current moment, too. The first thing you have to do when you land in Texas is find a job.

He makes you sit on his bed, the soft mattress dipping down on your weight. You can only stare at him, brows furrowing in confusion and a question sitting on the tip of your tongue that you are yet to voice out. Max makes a beeline to his closet, throwing it open and procuring a box.

A box.

He walks back to you, dropping on his knees and that action makes you panic. Then, Max opens the box, pulling out the most gorgeous pair of five-inch block heels you have ever laid eyes upon and gently slips them onto your feet. The straps have pearls and satin bows and it has tiny white diamonds, elegantly cut, as the centerpiece. Not even the YSL Opyum heels you own can compare to its elegance and beauty.

You almost kick him in the face because you do not expect that he’ll do that.

I bought shoes and they don't fit her. Max has told you. You feel bile rise up your throat.

The shoes. They fit you. Perfectly. As if it was made to be yours. As if it was bought to be yours. As if he was thinking of you, who is nothing but his manager and somewhat friend, when he bought the gorgeous heels instead of Kelly Piquet, his fucking girlfriend of three years whom he had been living with in this fucking penthouse, and parenting little P with.

“They're perfect,” Max whispers and he looks up with that smile playing on his lips. You feel tears sting your eyes and you press your lips into a thin line before moving your gaze away, blinking rapidly.

Max is doing this because he thought you were Kelly.

“They're custom, you know? They're the only pair in the world.”

His words make the taste of bile a hundred times worse. You stare at the shoes on your feet as if it's a sin to have the shoes fit you. No wonder Kelly is mad at Max. If Leo has commissioned custom heels with another woman in mind and got your shoe size wrong after three years of being together, you'll feel hurt, too.

You feel the need to apologize to Kelly. Maybe a quick message to her IG? You also follow each other’s private account.

“You’re thinking,” he says and his voice snaps you out of the rabbit hole known as your thoughts. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothin’,” you lie. The feeling of wanting to puke intensifies so you grab Max by his collar and plant your lips against his to push back the imaginary bile stuck on your throat and from there, the situation escalates to the point that clothes are removed. One by one. When you reach to unstrap the heels, Max grabbed your wrists, almost panicked.

“What are you doin’?” you ask.

“Don't take them off please.”

Whatever Max wanted, Max would get.

Your name built a home in Max’s mouth, the syllables rolling off his tongue with ease at every pleasure he felt, while your fingers explore every inch of Max’s skin. You're only allowed to watch back then. Now, you're allowed to touch.

Hearing his whimpers and little groans and shudders—all done by your hands—you feel nothing but satisfaction. He chants your name like it's a prayer and you're his god and if that is not love then you do not what is.

You wait for Max to utter Kelly’s name midway.

He never did.

“What are you doing?” his voice is groggy with sleep. After doing it, he immediately passes out. Weak ass bitch. You're still waiting for the horror once the realization of what you’ve done sinks into your system. The annoying headache, too. For now, none of them have arrived yet. Probably because you still have enough alcohol in your system to numb things out for you. While waiting, you're on your phone.

Ha, it's past 12 midnight now. You have three days to tell Max before you fly to Texas.

“Talkin' to someone,” you reply cryptically. His brows knit together.

“Who?”

“Just Logan.”

“The American in Williams?”

You roll your eyes, “Yes, the American in Williams.”

You notice how his arms on your waist tighten, pulling you a little closer to him, but you say nothing. This action causes flowers to bloom in your lungs and you hope he hasn't noticed how your breath hitched.

“Why?”

“He’s my friend. Friends talk,” you deadpan.

Logan Sargeant is an absolute sweetheart. He reminds you a lot of your little brother and you both share the same sentiments regarding the feeling of being unwelcomed in Formula One. You suppose he has it worse though. Nobody in the grid really makes an effort to befriend the young racer and you're fifty percent sure that the fact he's American made a contribution to that.

None of the other racers even follow him on Insta.

“Well, what are you two talking about?” Grumpy and bratty Max is back. Welcome back, asshole.

“He’s in Texas right now and he was askin’ if I was back home, too. Said we should grab a drink together. I promised to show him around Austin.”

“You never invited me to Austin.”

“Why would you even go to Austin?” your nose scrunch a little. “You visit your mother for Christmas.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You're befriending too much racers.”

“Excuse me? I only have Logan as a friend. Charles, too, by extension because he's your friend,” you point out. “Checo and Daniel and Yuki and Liam because they work with you.”

“And me.”

“You're not my friend.”

“What am I then? Your dog?”

“I work for you.”

“You work with me, not for me,” he corrects.

You do not know why your heart skipped a beat at that.

“I’m just trynna be a good friend here and you're bein’ unreasonably grumpy,” you try to shift the subject to save your own sanity. “None of you even tried to befriend Logan.”

Max abruptly reaches for his phone on the bedside table and unlocks it. You watch as he opens his Instagram, the public one, and added Logan's account. You gape. He switches to his private account and searches for Logan’s account in your profile's list of followers and adds him, too.

“What the fuck, Max?”

“I’m befriending him,” he says simply. “I’ll invite him over if he ever comes by in Monaco during the off-season.”

You blink.

“Now say goodbye to him and go back to sleep.”

He tosses his phone to the bedside table and turn his back on you in a manner that reminded you of a very petulant child.

You glance at your phone only to see Logan’s freaked out messages.

logan: HE FOLLOWED ME??!? ON BOTH ACCOUNTS???

logan: AM I SEEING THINGS? HAVE I ACCIDENTALLY SNORTED DRUGS??!

logan: maybe it's the texas heat??

logan: *sent a screenshot*

logan: MAX VERSTAPPEN INVITED ME TO HIS PENTHOUSE??

you: congrats child

logan: is this your doing??!?

logan: are you with him now?

logan: wait that's impossible, itd be 2 am in monaco now there's no way youd be together rn

If only he knows.

you: how bout we talk later once the sun rises here in monaco?

you: or maybe once i arrive in the us?

logan: sure sure

you: stay safe out there kid

logan: HE JUST FOLLOWED ME I CAN DIE HAPPY

You toss your phone aside and inch closer to Max, looping your arms around him and falling asleep in his warmth.

Your phone rings and it's not the Max Max Max Super Max Max ringtone. It's the default one.

Mama, the caller ID indicates. 4:31 AM is written on the upper right corner of your phone screen. You press the answer button.

“Your Papa…… It was a dangerous call. He needs to see you before he… He might not make it.”

That alone is enough for you to jump out of bed. You scramble to grab last night’s clothes and slip them on. Fuck, they still smell like alcohol.

“Hey, hey, what's wrong?” Max, who's rudely awakened when you abruptly jumped out of bed, looks so lost and when he sees you run your way out of his bedroom and to the stairs, he panics. The poor man panicked. He falls down the bed and runs after you, having the decency to only grab a towel to cover his lower half. He stops you, grabbing your wrist just as you're at the lowest step of the stairs.

“Wait, where are you going?” his voice is still rough with sleep and he's aggressively rubbing out his grogginess from his eyes. You stop, letting out a breath that you don't realize you're holding before turning around to face him. Then, the guilt rushes in. Max looks so…you don't have the words to describe it. His hair is a mess and he still looks sleepy but he also looks wide awake and kind of panicking and confused.

This is a face that's equally endearing and heartbreaking. You can't believe this will be the last time you'll be seeing him. You're still supposed to have three days left but now it's cut short and you—

You'll miss him.

“Sorry, baby,” you come up a few steps and cup his cheeks, bringing his face down so you can kiss his forehead. His hand comes up to lay on top of yours, eyes fluttering close.

“Where are you going?” he asks again.

“Texas,” you reply. “Dad… he… 'Twas a bad call and I need to see him. I need—I need to go home now.”

This is the reality of being family with a firefighter. You're always in danger of losing your father in one of the calls. And that is happening now.

Max understands because he knows your father's line of work.

“Do you need me to come with you?”

You shake your head.

“Then, I’ll drive you.”

“No,” you shoot him down quickly. “You drank last night. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m not drunk now.”

“Max,” you breathe through your nose to calm yourself down. “I’ll take the next flight available to the US. You stay here.”

“Take my jet.”

“No, Max,” you say. “Thank you for the offer but you’ll use the jet when you visit your mother.”

“I can fly commercial,” he squeezes your hands. “You don't want me to drive you. You don't want me to come with you. At least take the jet.”

You open your mouth to protest.

“Just take the jet, please, [Name].”

Whatever Max wanted, Max would get. So you nod your head slowly because it looks like he'll argue just to get you seated in his jet. And you'll argue with him if it was any other day but not today because you need to leave quickly. Time is becoming too precious. You can lose your Dad any second. You just wish you can see him and talk to him before he went.

“Okay.”

You pull away, whipping around to head to the door but Max doesn't let your wrist go. You turn back to him.

“What is it, Max?”

“Text me when you land in Texas?”

“Of course.”

“One last thing. Wait here.”

He runs back to his room and you tap your foot impatiently, eyes trained on the mismatched shoes that covered your feet. Max returns not even five minutes later and now, he's wearing clothes and he’s carrying the shoe box from last night.

You swallow the lump on your throat.

“Take this with you.”

With shaking hands, you take the box.

“See you around, [Name].”

“Goodbye, Max.”

It's a good thing that you spent the entire morning yesterday packing because this makes everything smoother for you. It is a little past 5 am now and the outside world is still enveloped in total darkness. You gaze at the apartment one last time, three suitcases in tow. The keys feel heavy in your hands as you lock the door behind you.

In the middle of your apartment living room sits a lone shoe box with a letter that says: Sorry, Max. I can't steal more from Kelly.

Beside the box is a folder.

An unfinished guide on becoming Max Verstappen’s manager. (I’ll have the final copy printed, binded, and sent before the 2024 pre-season. Haha, I’m channeling my inner Toto Wolff.)

The first paper you’ll see after you open the folder reads:

Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.

Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024 and honestly, I am worried. Not for you, of course. You’d win WDC whether I am your manager or not. That's how good you are. I am worried for your future manager. I’m afraid it would take someone with guts like me to work for with someone like you. A powerhouse manager for a powerhouse athlete.

Inside, you can find the following things:

How to bake my abuela’s special cheesecake.

How to make Red Bull vodka

How to make Max’s favorite pasta for lunch

List of Max Verstappen’s favorite places in each city

How to iron Max Verstappen’s clothes

What to do when Max accidentally sets the kitchen on fire

What to do when Max has a bad race

How to protect Max Verstappen from angry Hamilton fans

How to deal with a drunk Max Verstappen

Etc…

I will still be watching your journey, not from the Red Bull garage but from another continent. We worked five amazing years together and now it is time for us to fly on different skies. As much as I liked working with you, you can't be the only one reaching your dreams. Don’t worry, I’ll always reach out.

Thank you, Max. For giving me a home. I’m not talking about the apartment. I don't believe that home are establishments. Home is the people you love and Max, you are someone I love.

In the last page of this folder, you’d see a handmade bracelet tucked inside. It's small and it's made of cheap beads and I do not care if you don't think it's worthy enough to be worn on your wrist. Not even going to be offended. It's dirt compared to the Cartier bracelets you wear everyday. I bought the beads while roaming in Brazil and I just thought I’d make you one.

I cannot give you any gift that you already cannot buy with your money so I went ahead and made this. Money cannot buy anything made by my own hands.

Thank you again, Max.

And I’m so fucking sorry.

Please don't be angry.

I love you.

You watch the sun rise inside Max's jet as you fly over Monaco to Texas.

[anisespice]

tokyo revengers boys when their horny but their s/o is too busy to deal with their shit? (u can add bonten-)

aye aye, anon! 🫡 needy men are my favorite flavor 🤤 thank you so much for your patience, and requesting ♡♡♡

pairing: tr x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI. cursing, vague descriptions of sex, teasing, mild nipple-play, empty threats, crack!fic coded behavior, a tiny pinch of barely-there angst in mikey’s with a hint of misogyny, and i think that’s it :D feel free to lemme know if i missed anything!

notes: something about this request screamed sano to me, and maybe even throw sanzu in the mix for a little treat ( ˘ ³˘). also may have strayed a little from the original plot of the request, but the premise is fairly the same >:)) hope you enjoy !!

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow

“Get outta there.”

Though your tone sounded stern, your demeanor remained placid as you continued typing on your laptop, making no move to actually stop the hands from creeping inside your sweater. You were well aware of their destination, and it was anything but harmless. SHINICHIRO was latched onto you the moment he arrived at your place, excited to spend his day off alone with you, and away from the prying eyes of his siblings for once. Rarely did the two of you get alone time due to your conflicting schedules, savoring the moments you did get without outward distractions in the way.

Things were going great for the most part…until your boss decided to dump busywork into your email, last minute.

“…tell ‘em to go fuck himself, so you can focus on fucking me,” Shinichiro grumbled into your shoulder, calloused hands feeling up your chest with slow, deliberate touches. You chortled, masking the small moan that nearly slipped out when he gently grazed your nipples.

“Good idea, Shin. But wait, oh shoot, fucking you won’t exactly pay my bills, now will it? So, knock it off.”

“Who says it won’t? I’ll pay your bills for the next month, hell, the next six months, if it means you’ll let me just stick it in, baby, please..”

You hissed through your teeth at the small pinch he gave your sensitive nubs, dick damn-near throbbing against your lower back as he rutted against you. Should’ve known sitting on his lap while you worked would backfire, poor thing’s so wound up, you felt a little bad. It’d been nearly three weeks since you and Shinichiro had even a second to breathe the same air, let alone touch each other.

You weren’t immune, craving a taste of him just as much, there’s nothing you wanted more than to succumb to his persuasion. But, having been on bad terms with your tyrant boss one too many times, you couldn’t afford to procrastinate.

“Shini,” you spoke, breathless as he suckled on your neck, growing more bold with his touch, “a-as much as I’d love for you to do that for me… you don’t exactly have the funds to make such an offer.”

He huffed, nipping playfully at your pulse. “I’ll get another job. Good? Good, problem solved, can you take your clothes off now?”

“Tempting…but no. Appreciate the sentiment, though.”

Shinichiro whined in the crook of your neck. His hands slowed to a stop inside your sweater, slipping down to rest on your tummy instead. It sent a tiny shiver up your spine, but was ignored all the same as you attempted to resume typing, seeming to have put a damper on his resolve. Or, so you thought.

Not even a minute passed when you felt his fingers searching for something else to play with. Something that has been calling his name since he waltzed through your front door. “Shin…”

Your warning fell upon deaf ears. Shinichiro merely shrugged, feigning innocence while his hands breached the waistband of your sleep-shorts, stopping right at your pelvic bone. Leaning back in the chair, the ravenette spread his legs further apart, forcing yours to do the same, giving him even more access to your already accessible center. Despite his lanky stature, homie had grip—Try and close your legs all you want, you’ll pull a muscle before pulling out of it. Your heart was borderline going Macarena, focus jumbled up to the point there were more typos than words in the report you tried completing.

You huffed, though your tone sounded less stern compared to the first time. “Shinichiro. If you don’t let me finish my work…I’ll ban your dick from ever entering me or this house for a whole month.”

On any other given day, that empty threat would’ve done the trick, hands flying off you so fast you’d think he got electrocuted. But, this wasn’t any other given day. This was already a two-week long hiatus of his most favorite place to be, in between your legs, and the only thing keeping him from it was your lack of underwear beneath thin-cotten shorts. Threaten him if you must, but it won’t work.

You weren’t fooling anyone.

Playing hard to get could take you so far, but he knew you were mere moments from crumbling to your desires you tried so hard to suppress, no shot you’d last another day, let alone a month. He was determined, and you were being stubborn—An immovable object verses an unstoppable force. Eventually, someone had to give. And it wasn’t about to be you.

It went on like that for another few minutes, him feeling you up and you batting him away. It only worsened the second he went further in your shorts, teasing your sex until you soaked through the fabric. You could feel his smug grin against your shoulder, no doubt thinking he was winning this battle. However, Shinichiro wasn’t aware of your trump card, your Charizard, if you will.

It’s a dirty trick. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

By slamming your fists atop of the table, startling him right out of your shorts, you turned to look him dead in the face, and said, “Don’t make me call Mikey.”

The mechanic widely blinked. But, his shock was short lived as he fixed you a sarcastic look, bringing his slick-coated fingers up to the light and right into his mouth to be even more obnoxious. After pulling them out with a wet pop!, Shinichiro called your bluff.

“You wouldn’t.”

“And would. Emma’s probably dying to catch up with me anyway, since I haven’t been around as much lately. And we both know Mikey would come just to spite you.”

As you continued to hold his stare, not backing down or giving any indication that you were joking, the sardonicism began to melt off his demeanor, and soon realization took its place. Shortly after that, betrayal. How could you be so cruel? He was already competing with an inanimate object, he’ll be damned if his siblings get added to the list. Taking a moment to weight his options, or lack there of, his face soon resembled a kicked puppy with his bottom lip stuck out and everything; you could’ve sworn his eyes started to water. “t’s not fair…been waiting all damn day…”

“I know, baby. But I need you to hang on for just a little longer f’me, okay? And once I’m done, then I’m all yours.” You cooed, placing a small peck on his nose as an olive branch. It seemed to do the trick, his frown softening as he pointed at his lips, puckering them. You snorted, but happily obliged, even placing a few more across his face until you got a smile. Shinichiro soaked up whatever he could as he leaned into you for more.

When it seemed he was satisfied, you turned back to continue working…only for the ravenette to try his luck one more time. “Can I get one here, too?”

You peered at him from over your shoulder—Give you one guess where he was pointing, wearing that all too pleased grin from before. You deadpanned.

“…I’m calling Mikey.”

“NoOO—”

—

“That’s considered sexual harassment, Mr. Sano.”

If he could time travel, MIKEY would beat the breaks off his past-self for ever encouraging you to fill the role of secretary at his work. At first, it seemed like a fantastic idea—Standing at his side, his pretty little assistant, wearing a tight uniform that left nothing to the imagination. He’d bend you over his desk and fuck you anytime he pleased, you’d call him Sir, and walk around the office filled to the brim with his cum until time to go home, then he’d fill you up all over again—The perfect work-life balance.

However, the gangster didn’t account for one teensy thing—You, actually taking the job seriously, and setting professional boundaries the moment you were hired on the staff. No matter if you’d be practically all over him in the car moments prior to clocking in, the second your kitten heels touched the marbled floors of the lobby…he wasn’t your lover anymore. He was your boss.

And he hated it.

“Sexual harass—You’re my s/o, [______].”

“Not within these walls, I’m not.” You continued reading one of the files left on your desk to review for tomorrow’s meeting, only for it soon to vanish right before your eyes. After a long blink, you held out an expectant hand to the stubborn blonde. “May I have that back, please?”

“No.”

“Mr. Sano-”

“If you address me formally one more time, I’ll take you right here in the middle of this hallway. Try me.” He hissed, holding the file out of reach.

You pursed your lips, fighting a grin. Seeing him get so worked up over not being able to get his dick wet was entertaining to say the least, but you were well aware he wasn’t kidding. Clearing your throat, you attempted to tread lightly as your expression morphed back to neutral.

“Alright. Mikey,” his eye twitched, but you continued, “would you be so kind as to let me finish reading the material for your meeting tomorrow? I would hate for anything to be amiss because I didn’t do a thorough review.”

“Tch. Where’s Kakucho? I distinctly remember assigning this task for him. Not you.”

You raised a brow. “You sent him on an impromptu errand to fill up the time he was spending ‘idling at my desk’. You remember that?”

Mikey averted his gaze. “…Don’t recall.”

“‘course you don’t,” you exhaled. “Mikey, with all due respect-”

“Not that name either.” He commanded, slapping the file back on the desk before placing his hands upon it to lean forward, towering over you. You couldn’t fight the grin this time, tilting your head up at him, amusement in your gaze.

“That’s your name, is it not?”

Mikey glared. “You know that isn’t the one I’d prefer you to use.”

With a shrug, you easily replied, “It’s what most of your employees call you. And last time I checked, that included me-” Mikey was quick to grab your chin, forcing you to look deep into his dark, deranged eyes. Man’s was definitely toeing line of his limit, and you were pushing it.

“And last time I checked, you aren’t like most employees. You’re my partner who’s working on my last nerve, and should really consider dropping this whole ‘professionalism’ act before I remind them why they were hired in the first place. And no, it wasn’t for your work ethic and attention to detail, or whatever bullshit Koko told you in the interview.”

Ouch.

Not to say you didn’t figure there were ulterior motives behind getting approved for the job, especially under the circumstances that you were heavily under-qualified to work in their type of environment. But, you tried your damnedest to keep up, do your part, and not be a burden on the team. For him to call it nonsense and boldly confirm such suspicions outloud? You think he realized his mistake the second your face reverted back to its neutral state. Wiggling out of his grip, you leaned back in the chair with your arms tightly crossed to your chest.

“That so? Well then, Michael, how ‘bout I remind you why a man shouldn’t mix his business with his pleasure. Things could turn ugly for him, maybe even end up losing both a loyal employee and a lover all in one day. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Out of all the names, that one made him cringe the most. A clear indicator of his grandiose fuck-up, one that if he didn’t fix immediately, he’d soon suffer the consequences. And your wrath.

“Wait, I didn’t mean it like that. It came out wrong-”

“Oh, I’m sure it didn’t. You’re a man who speaks his mind, after all.”

Mikey, though subtly, panicked. This wasn’t at all how he expected the conversation to go. But, it’s not his fault! It was his dick doing all the driving. With you working for Bonten, his long hours became yours, and by the time you both got home, sex became scarce due to your exhaustion. He was immune to the taxation of the job, while it was kicking your ass. And to top it off, he couldn’t even cop a feel of his own s/o, in his own damn building, because of ‘power imbalances’ between a boss and secretary that was ‘socially unacceptable’, according to you…as you work for the biggest crime syndicate in all of Japan.

Flawed reasoning aside, it drove him insane.

But, no thanks to his lust-clouded brashness, if Mikey thought getting some action at work was difficult, his chances at home just got a whole lot worse. He’d be lucky if you even slept in the same bed tonight.

“[_____],” he sighed, reaching over to grab your hand, though you moved it away at the last second. “You do a fantastic job here, angel. Exceeded all my expectations, actually-”

“Well, based on the merits of why you hired me in the first place, that doesn’t sound like much.” At that point, you went back to reviewing the file he threw back on the desk, seeming disinterested. But, Mikey knew better.

He’d hurt your feelings. To be reduced to nothing but eye candy for him, when you were busting your ass off like everyone else, it stung. It was playful at first, but now the blonde had crossed a line. With determination, Mikey removed the file from your sight once more, rounding the desk before crouching down so he could level with you this time.

You allowed him to take your hands in his, still indifferent. Mikey spoke with a tenderness only reserved for you, one that never failed to melt any cold front you built to wane his efforts.

“I was being childish. I shouldn’t have diminished your role like that, and I apologize for making you feel like your work isn’t appreciated. I’m glad to have you as my loyal employee. Even if a visit in my office from my lover from time to time wouldn’t be too bad, either…”

His words trailed off, along with his gaze as he reminisced. You chortled, shaking your head. Mikey looked back at you, ghost of a grin on his face. “I’ll back off. Promise.”

You raised a brow, skeptical. “You mean it?”

“Mmhm. Under one condition.”

You groaned, “Mikey-”

“Manjiro.”

“Oh, is that the condition?” He lightly pinched you for the snark, resting his head on your lap. But, before you could reprimand him for his inappropriate position, your words catch in your throat.

His stare was intense as they gazed up at you with hidden hunger, the tenderness still swimming in the inky pools, but not as present compared to moments ago. Mikey licked his lips, nuzzling against your plush thigh.

“Work less hours. Don’t want you to run yourself ragged trynna keep up with the rest of us. We’ve been doing this line of work a lot longer than you have, baby. No need to overcompensate. I’m already proud of you.”

Steadily did those words make your heart melt, until your were practically mush once they’ve set in. To hear his pride in you almost made you kick your feet, for that was all you really wanted at the end of the day—Acknowledgment. Validation. Praise. And working less hours would definitely benefit in more ways than one, more so on your mental health. You won’t lie and say this new job hasn’t been a challenge, all the talk about blood, death and drugs, one could only handle so much.

“Thank you..Manjiro.” He lit up at the sound of his name spilling sweetly from your lips. “I greatly appreciate you saying that. But, what’s the catch?”

He hummed, hands releasing yours to caress your calves all the way back up to your hips. Mikey didn’t pull nor tug, more so just holding you in place as he continued to watch you like a hawk. Eventually he shook his head, tresses fluttering with him as they curtained the sides of his face.

“No catch. Work your hours, I’ll leave you be…But once those hours are up, you better be sitting pretty on my desk with your reports in one hand and your underwear in the other, waiting for me to choose between my business and my pleasure. Deal?”

—

“Pout all you want, I’m not sitting on your face.”

When you informed your darling SANZU that your Saturdays were strictly for housework, he honestly thought you were joking—What idiot in their twenties would spend the weekend doing that?

Evidently his idiot, that’s who.

Imagine his surprise when he showed up, unannounced, ready to have you on every piece of furniture, only to be threatened with a feather duster the second he went to grab your ass. “Paws off. I already changed the sheets on my bed, cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen, and mopped the floors, so unless you’re here to help dust or wipe windows, keep it in your pants, Haruchiyo.”

Needless to say, he wasn’t the happiest houseguest.

After the long work week he’s had, Sanzu was looking forward to locking the two of you in the back all weekend, going at it like rabbits with no other purpose but keep the neighbors up—Pretty much until the room stank. But, thanks to this cleaning ritual of yours, that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon. Especially not with the various scented candles you were burning to hide the potent smell of bleach and pine-sol. God, he was getting such a headache from overstimulation…and not the good kind.

“This is such bullshit,” he groaned into the couch, where you banished him after he tried to bend you over the washing machine while you were loading another basket of dirty clothes. “Why’d you even invite me over if we weren’t gonna do anything…”

You paused from folding, side-eyeing him. “I didn’t invite you.”

“You said you were staying in all day. That’s practically code for: I’m bored, come dick me down.”

Your laugh had snuck up on you, racking through your entire body to the point you had curled forward. The leap he took to draw such a conclusion nearly gave you whiplash as you attempted to regain composure. “Maybe for freaky-fucks like you, but the rest of us usually mean it as something mundane. Like, oh I dunno, doing chores.”

“On a Saturday?? What ‘re ya, 80??”

You shrugged, placing another item onto its respective pile. “You don’t have to stay, y’know. If you have something better to do, then by all means, don’t let me keep you.”

Sanzu abruptly sat up from his position, the clothes you had laid on his back flopping onto the floor, instantly losing their folded shape. You shot him an annoyed glance, but figured some of the blame was yours for using his skittish-ass for a table. The pinkette wore a pitiful look, wide cerulean eyes piercing right through you as he gave a defiant punch to the couch cushion, “Was ‘posed to be doing you! And you are keeping me from doing that!”

With a huff, you set aside the pile you were currently working through to gather up the clothes that he so rudely let fall to the floor. “Unfortunate. Now lay back down, and be a good table. Since you wanted to be chair so fucking badly.”

“Piss off.”

He absolutely laid back down.

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[fluffytriceratops]

𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐨 [𝐛𝐚𝐲𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞]

notes: leo reacting to y/n pulling him in for a kiss by his belt. ;) i'm doing this for all of them and it's in headcannon style because i'm in a rut and lazy. bayverse spefically for now, but let me know if you want this for other iterations as well. ^v^

click here to read donnie's ver.

click here to read mikey's ver.

click here to read raph's ver.

warnings: mature language, nsfw mentions/sexual themes.

tags: @thelaundrybitch @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @rheawritesforfun @s-s-ironnie @post-apocalyptic-daydream @mysticboombox @drowninghell @lec743 @raphielover @tmntspidergirl @raphslovemuffin80 @squirrelfurs @bibiz82

(if you want to be tagged in my future tmnt related work, feel free to lemme know and i'll happily tag you~!)

i'm sending all the love and virtual hugs to you! love you guys!! ^w^

---

- eyes would widen a fraction, and if you weren't paying attention you probably wouldn't notice.

- at the feeling of your hands on his belt, he would raise an eye ridge.

- his jaw would clench, and again, if you weren't watching him closely you wouldn't notice.

- hands would slide to your waist. grip would tighten a little at the feeling of your breath fanning his face.

- his cheeks would warm at the close proximity, his gaze would study you.

- so intense it made your skin prick in delight.

- he'd pull you closer at the feeling of your lips against his own.

- and once you'd both pull away he'd send you the most breathtaking smile. the type that literally takes your breath away and make your heart clench.

- leo would lean closer to you, so close you could feel his breath against your ear. "that was a very bold move, y/n.." he would murmur, his voice low, husky, and laced in a teasing tone.

- his voice alone would bring you pleasure, giving you goosebumps and causing a shiver to snake up your spine.

- your cheeks would dust in a soft rosey glow, but you'd force a smirk on your delicate lips.

- "exactly why i did it, leonardo." you'd all but purr. grabbing his bandana tails and twirling them around a finger with a coy smile that had his heart stuttering and thoughts to falter for a moment.

- leo loved hearing you say his name like that.

- he'd bite his lip subcontiously and study you with those intense blue eyes of his.

- "and what spurred on this bold move?"

- leaning closer to him, brushing your lips against his once more-

- "i was hoping you'd pull an even bolder one~"

- if you were in a secluded area, and especially if no one was around, he'd take you right then and there.

- if you were more in public, he'd find the most hidden place he could and mark every inch of you as his. ;)

- either way you're covered with love bites.

- leo wants you all to himself, and he'd be deliberate with his markings. putting them in places where they wouldn't be seen by the naked eye normally. that way, you two are the only ones aware of their existence.

- and when you guys were with company again, he'd brush his hand over the spots, despite not being able to see them, he'd know exactly where they were. he would apply a bit of pressure, to make it known to you, and only you, that he was very aware of this,

- leo likes to watch you squirm.

- and he makes you squirm as often as he can.

[jakesangel]

lazy morning - 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 event request

preview : jake wanting nothing but to stay close to his love

word count + genre : pure fluff + 483 words / not proofread /

warning : kisses, hugs, sleepy n clingy jake, use of pet names

it's often jake finishes his dance practice late, coming over to your place when you're already asleep, happy to make you a morning surprise. but him finishing late also means he starts later than you, as work is calling for you really early.

but today is different that usual, the alarm didn't ring or you didn't hear it, making you late for work. and of course jake is all over you, his tight embrace and comforting smell, making it impossible for you to leave the bed. jake get off of me, you wisper yell, not even meaning it. he only makes grunts, rubs his face on your chest. come on jake, i'm late for work, he tightens his arms around your waist before humming, five more minutes please, he finally speaks. just two minutes then .

as you're making your breakfast, you suddenly feel a pair of naked arms h back hugging you and a chin coming close to your neck. mornin' baby, you hear his soft and low morning voice. the time seems to freeze, as he kisses your neck there or hms at the food breakfast your making. but you know once jake gets clingy it's hard to get out of his zone, jake not right now i'm late, you try to warn. it doesn't stop him. in fact it makes me clingier, his clingy puppy-ness coming out, as he wants something he can't have right now. he is also to tired to even think of the consequences of making you more late, but even if you lose your job, he'll be able to financially help you anyway. so he backs way a little, only to turn you around and hug you right there. jaaake you whine, without really wanting to leave him, you so warm and the bed is to empty and cold without you. he says as he smells your nape. he doesn't stop here, but hold you closer, stocking your hair softly. you know there is nothing you can do, but accept your beautiful fate. it also made you realize of his current attire : his grey sweatpants hanging low, showing off his hard abs and calvin klein boxer, his messy hair surrounding his precious bareface.

few minutes pass, and once his morning quota of his previous baby is finally fulfilled, he looks at you and kiss your forehead. lemme help you hm ? go put on your outside clothes, ill put your breakie in a tupperware, he sofly finish, a tired smile plastered on his face, alright ?

you're now in front of your front door, w a jake, still shirtless not really caring about nothing but you. there you go baby, he says as he hands you your food. he then put your hair right, so that you looks you arent 20 min late, and softly kisses you good bye, i cant wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow, my love.

notes : there you go baby >< i hope you like it, let me know <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🍓୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ tag list : @dreamiestay @jakesprincess1

perm tag list : @allurecile @luvj4key @stwrjvke @amouriu @neos127 @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring @pockettwinzz @jwsdoll @heeheeswifey @sjylouvre @txnwvc @oopshee @luvlyhee @en-ner-jay @en-chantedtomeetyou @erenmyman @driedflowwr @hoonion

[kill4luvina]

"Who's that?"

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Plug!Armin x Plug!Reader x Plug!Eren

Summary : Eren and Armin go out to a party to find out who this mysterious "Stunna"(Y/n) is after she's stepped in the game they've been losing mad business and at first they were going to jump you, until they saw you. Instead they decide they were tag/double team you.

Warning : SMUT, Car sex, just sumin nasty for the girlies because i said so, not proof read, ngl eren and armin get a lil intimate(they on some gay shi ngl), use your imaginationn if sumin don't make sense.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

The room was awash in a spectrum of colors, pulsating neon lights flickering and casting a glow hue of different colors. The walls throbbing in the same rhythm as the heavy bass as the room was filled with bodies pressed up against each other – some grinding, others chatting it up. The vibe was wild, a crazy energy swirling in the air, getting everyone hyped. Smoke twisted up towards those neon lights, adding this trippy scent to the mix.

The air was thick with the mixed scents of sweat, perfume, and the distinct earthiness. Eren and Armin had only popped out to this party because of some info someone dropped, thinking they could catch the mysterious "Stunna" who had been stealing their costumers. "Bro, what if this shit was a set up." Armin whispered, eyes scanning the crowd, getting jumpy at any sudden moves. "Relax, man. You're incognito with that ski mask, nobody knows it's you,dumbass" Eren shot back, pushing through the crowd, Armin following close behind with his hand under his shirt holding onto his glock.

"Oh damn, Luvii!" You greeted your bestie as she practically dove through your car window for a hug. "I was starting to think you weren't coming!" Luvina would say as she pulled away. "And you popped out with the all black hell cat? Okay I see you!" You chuckled, stepping out with your tote bag as she acted all surprised, though she had the same whip in pink. "Come on, girl, quit playin'."

"Luvi, you look so fine stop fuckin playin wit me..." A guy would come up to the two of you at the party, he'd start talking to luvina as he started touching up on her. "Ew, girl get a fucking room.." You'd say walking away, wandering throughout the party giving them some privacy. "Yo, Stunna!" You'd hear one of your favorite costumers yell out, making your quickly turn your head. "You got anything on you I can buy?" He'd ask, you'd nod your head opening your tote bag pulling out a few carts & vapes. "Lemme get that one, how much?" "75." "Aight, take 100 and I'ma put the 25 into the next thing I buy."

Then, out of nowhere, some dude grabbed you and pulled you outside. Caught off guard, you clocked they were both rockin' ski masks, so you didn't waste time, pullin' out a gun from the waistband of your jeans. "Who the fuck are yall?!" You demanded, sizing them up, outnumbered but ready. Armin lowered his mask, checkin' you out before speaking up. "Ease up, mamas, we ain't here to cause trouble, we on your turf remember?" Armin would remind you making your ease up a tiny bit. Eren would pull his off too, you had seen them before on Instagram but damn they looked finer in person.

"Fuck yall doing on my turf anyway?" you questioned, gun still raised, keepin' your distance, looking for answers. "Damn, chill mamas, we came to see if ya shit as good as we heard." Eren would lie, both of them knew they wanted to jump your ass but as soon as they saw how fine you were they couldn't. Now they both just wanted to see if they could could hit it before they left. You'd put your gun down staring at the two silently for a moment before walking past them to your hellcat. The two would silently watch you before dabbing eachother up and follow you in excitement.

Honestly, you don't even know how it happened but it started off with you 3 in the back seat smoking up a storm. Not even 20 minutes into your smoking sesh, your body started heating up at the sly comments the two would throw at you. You'd pussy throbbing at the sound of Eren telling you how fine you were and Armin touching you in all the right places at all the right times, what a duo. In about 10-15 more minutes you found yourself making out with Armin's lap, Eren giving you kisses from the side making your overwhelmed not knowing who to kiss.

"Mmph!" You'd cry into Erens mouth as kissed you, not even being able to think straight. You were completely drowned in bliss as you felt Armin lap up your juices with his tongue. You've never been eaten out the good before, and it was a complete game changer when you felt him sink his fingers into your brown and pink fat pussy.(im such a troll for that one) Your eyes would roll to the back of you head as you pulled away from eren moaning into the crook of his neck as your nails scratched him looking for something to grip on. "Doing so well for us." You'd hear eren say softly as he held you, continuing to praise you.

On the other hand, Armin was fucking your pussy up real good. He was nose deep, not able to even contain himself and just you moaning made it even worst. You'd feel your eyes fill up with tear as you cried out even louder cumming all of his face as you held onto Eren even tigher, trembling as you came down from your high. Armin would pull away licking his fingers as he wiped his face. "My turn." you'd hear Eren say, you were to tired to even complain feeling yourself getting moved around. "Mamas, be a good girl and arch for daddy." You'd hear Armin's voice now from infront of you, you'd look up from your fluffy lashes to see his pretty blue eyes looking right back down at you.

He'd smile, his sliver braces showing as he'd whip out his dick as it hit you head in the center of your face making your slightly flinch. Not knowing who to pay attention to you'd feel something poke at your entrance. "wait-Fuc--" you'd be shut up by two dicks filling you up from both sides, your moans muffled by Armins dick. You'd start tearing up again but this time you'd actually start crying, the amount of pleasure you were getting at once was insane. Your make-up getting completely messed up as Armin kept face fucking you. Eren on the opposite side ramming your shit.

"look at you go mamas." Armin would say pulling his phone out as he started to record you, with his hands now away you'd quickly pull away coughing as you looked back up to the video. You'd could help but start moaning loudly again from eren as you started to pump his dick from the base spitting on it. You'd start sucking him off harder making a sloppy mess with bubbles every wear not taking your eyes off the video. "Fuckkk, so good for us.." Armin would whimper, voice slightly cracking as he moaned. Eren letting out groans as he picked up his place leaving you a moaning mess not even able to focus on the task at hand.

Armin would stop recording as he went back to face fucking you, but he was looking behind you this time. You'd feel both ends slow down as you looked up once more to see the two kissing. Your pussy couldn't help but twitch and suck Eren in even more from how hot that was. Slightly shocked, you assumed it was just the weed kicking all 3 of ya'll differently. But this didn't last long because after a few seconds they were both back to abusing your holes. The game ender for you was when Eren brought his fingers down and start rubbing on you clit, you came so fucking hard you started squirting tear rolling down your eyes.

Armin was next pulled away as you brought your tonuge out and he came on your face leaving you a mess. Eren would do the same after a few more thrusts cumming your ass and back. You'd fall, your body fully limp as you caught your breath. "Damn, if your drugs ass addicting as you are i might have to switch over." Armin would joke as pulled you up giving you a kiss as eren laughed at his stupid joke. "ngl, being opps stupid asl, why don't we conjoin and just become sumin bigger?" Eren would ask, but you were sound asleep leaving the two.

"Eren, did we kiss?" Armin would ask "Shut the actual fuck up idk what your on."

(LOL IDK WHAT THIS IS I STARTED WRITING AND COULDN'T STOP, BUT IMA START WORKING ON REQUESTS NOW.)

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[httpsserene]

love your workkkkkkkk 🤍

can i request a smau with carlos or lance and a plus size reader?

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 - 𝐜𝐬. 𝟓𝟓

summary: from photo shoots to spontaneous vacation changes; carlos loves you loudly. content warning: fluff. plussize!reader. reader is a model. light profanity. attempt at humor. body positive. one negative comment about reader’s body. couples vacation. loverboy carlos sainz jr. getting engaged.  pairing: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader (fc: precious lee) genre: smau.

from serene: in honor of carlos signing for...*checks notes* williams!!! currently sobbing about logan as i am a fellow florida born but, i will make sure to support him whether or not he's on the grid next year, or in indycar, or anywhere else < 3. it's a relatively short smau from me but, i hope you all enjoy it the same xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

twitter • ynmodels

igstory • ynmodels uploaded!

[caption1; lighting check- felt cute might delete later][caption2; please stop threatening to get get me pregnant in my dms (i have a bf)]

carlossainz55: you could have been cute with me in melbourne ⤷ynmodels: i'll let you explain me ghosting my cover shoot to the magazine ⤷carlossainz55: is the love of your life missing you AND his appendix not a good excuse

user1: how many of my kids r u willing to have? ⤷user1: im serious btw haha

user2: bbg 🫦 lemme knock you up (i'm a girl)

user3: shhhhhh don't pretend like you don't want to have 8 kids with me 🤫 ⤷ynmodels: 8 KIDS??? you're blocked LMFAO

instagram • ynmodels • march 25th

liked by carlossainz55, harpersbazaarus, zendaya, and 93,562 others

ynmodels never thought i would be angry about having a cover shoot, but when it means i miss my boyfriend's third race win? i'm enraged‼️so, so, so proud of you, carlos! wish i was there to see you up on that top step! (thank you to harper's bazaar for putting me on the front page 💖)

tagged: harpersbazaarus, dolcegabbana, carlossainz55

view comments

carlossainz55: vamossssssssssssssss mami

➥ ynmodels: ¡VAMOS! 😍😍😍😍😍

carlossainz55: hermosa 🥰

liked by ynmodels

carlossainz55: i'm ordering multiples of this magazine

➥ user4: spectacular, give me 14 of them right now 🤲🏻

user5: i'm no better than a man 😮‍💨

➥ user6: good googly moogly 👀

➥ user7: i dunno if im jealous of her or carlos tbh 😵‍💫

user8: MOTHER 😩

➥ ynmodels: 💅🏾💅🏾💅🏾💅🏾

user9: carlos gets his appendix removed, wins the australian gp, and then gets to go home to a fine ass woman

➥ user10: god may never say that he has favorites but there are signs smh 🤦🏿‍♀️

➥ user11: omm i hope he treats her like the queen she is 🥴

alexandrasaintmleux: don't ask me the color of ANYTHING

➥ charlesleclerc: bebe what are u talking about??? pink is clearly her color 🙄

➥ carlossainz55: the dress is black 😐 @/ynmodels block them.

twitter • ynmodels

instagram • carlossainz55 • runway ⚑

liked by fashionweek, charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, and 2,313,475 others

carlossainz55 off week is fashion week 🚶🏻‍♂️

tagged: ynmodels

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user12: just fell to my knees in the middle of my lecture hall 🧎🏼‍♀️

➥ user13: completely understandable

➥ user14: slammed my head on a table in the middle of the library and got kicked out IJBOLLLLL

user15: are y'all looking for a third ???!!!

➥ carlossainz55: absolutely not 😂

lewishamilton: nice to see you guys off the track ✌🏾

➥ ynmodels: it was! can't wait for nyfw with you 🤗🤗

➥ user16: i know carlos curled up into the fetal position absolutely tweaking rn 💀

➥ user17: if lewis hamilton took my girl i wouldn't even be mad about it 🤷🏾‍♂️

user18: thicker than a bowl of oatmeal 🤤

➥ user19: double cheeked up on a thursday afternoon 😣

➥ user20: she has no business walking around like that

➥ user18: like i'm not going to salivate like a dog 🦮

user21: she's what the greek godddesses wished they looked like

➥ ynmodels: this is the best compliment about my body i've ever received 🥹

user22: i know carlos CANNOT handle allat 😂

➥ carlossainz55: i have two hands for a reason.

➥ ynmodels: i'm a healthy handful what can i say 😚

imessage • carlos -> yn

instagram • ynmodels • en vogue ⚑

liked by voguemagazine, carlossainz55, jeanpaulgaultier, and 1,994,320 others

ynmodels manifested this very achievement! so honored to be on the cover of vogue AND to do it wearing louis vuitton and chanel; only up from here < 333

tagged: voguemagazine, chanelofficial, louisvuitton

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landonorris: VOGUEEEEEEE ⁉️⁉️

➥ ynmodels: VOGUEEEEEEE LANDOOOO

➥ landonorris: nobody has done it better 😌

➥ ynmodels: ate them for breakfast 😋

➥ user23: literally.

➥ landonorris: don't do too much now @/user23

➥ ynmodels: no bc i'm wondering who TF asked u @/user23

carlossainz55: mi amor, i think i'm crying ☹️

➥ ynmodels: don't cry because i'll cry

➥ carlossainz55: i'm weak my eyes are watering 🥹

➥ ynmodels: you absolutely softy STOP!!!

➥ ynmodels: you're gonna make me ruin my makeup 😣😖

franciscacgomes: OMFGGGGGGG 🤩

➥ ynmodels: i knowwwwwwww

➥ alexandrasaintmleux: 💛💛💛💛

➥ lilymhe: i'm getting this edition framed 💯

voguemagazine: same time next year?

➥ carlossainz55: YES !!!

➥ ynmodels: i'd be honored 😲

➥ user24: where's her vogue video on youtube? I NEED IT

chanelofficial: kiss marks on the cover already 💋

➥ louisvuitton: with hearts drawn on it too 💓

➥ ynmodels: thank you both so much 🫂🫂🫂

lewishamilton: 🫡

zendaya: passed out when i saw this! about time girllll 🥵

➥ ynmodels: yes ma'ammmmmm 😤

igstory • ynmodels uploaded!

[caption1; sorry girls, not giving these away :) a few presents from carlos][caption2; might let him hit tonight ngl]

user25: if he wanted to he would energy>>>>>

user26: shit tell him to save some flowers for the rest of us 😧 user26: where are you even going to put all of those??? ⤷ynmodels: i keep them around the house, and dry all the flowers to keep them! ⤷ynmodels: nobody's ever gotten me flowers before him so i cherish each and every petal 🤭

pierregasly: take that first photo down before kika sees it pls 🙏🏻 ⤷ynmodels: oh did you say ft kika as i open every bag? and smell every rose? i'd be happy too pierre 🙃

carlossainz55: it's really not enough to show how much i'm proud of you 🙂‍↔️ ⤷ynmodels: carlos please ⤷ynmodels: i don't need anything besides you

instagram • carlossainz55 • somewhere in greece ⚑

liked by marcmarquez93, landonorris, carlossainzofficial, and 2,277,921 others

carlossainz55 escapada tranquila

tagged: ynmodels

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user27: if you don't sit down in that damn car 🤬

➥ ynmodels: carlos told me to stand! yell at him not me ✋🏾

➥ user28: oh so if carlos jumps off a bridge you would too?

➥ ynmodels: expeditiously 😤 i'd backflip off it too 🤸🏾‍♀️

user29: why do we only speak about carlos' gf when this is his post 🤨

➥ user30: “carlos’ gf” don’t be disrespectful. she has a name ☺️

➥ user31: cause she's barbie! and he's just ken 😇 hope that helps 🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

landonorris: having fun carlos 😃

➥ carlossainz55: cabron please shut up

➥ landonorris: damn a man can't ask if his friend is having a nice time on vacation 😞

charlesleclerc: everything going to plan?

➥ ynmodels: there's a plan?

➥ user32: what plan???

➥ carlossainz55: my plan to take you to see dolphins, is what he's talking about 😅

➥ ynmodels: ooooooh wait let me plug in my camera battery!

➥ user32: i wanna see dolphins :(

maxverstappen: don't chicken out mate 😿

➥ oscarpiastri: i will never let you live that down 😈

➥ ynmodels: why are we bullying my boyfriend?

➥ carlossainz55: i have no idea what they're talking about

user33: first photo could pass as professional ngl

➥ ynmodels: i said the same thing!

➥ user34: carlos takes the best photos of her hand down

➥ user35: best photos of the best model 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

twitter • ynmodels

instagram • ynmodels • WE'RE GETTING MARRIED ⚑

liked by lilymhe, scuderiaferrari, charlesleclerc, and 1,483,294 others

ynmodels im cryiubg omg we're emgagedddd i didn't get to the bottom of shit I LOVE LOVE LPVE LOVE LVE LOVE LOVE YOU CARLOS SAINZ JR 💍💍💍💍💍

tagged: carlossainz55

carlossainz55: te amo mas que nada en el mundo

➥ ynmodels: i can't believe this still

➥ carlossainz55: i'll remind you every day 🥰

landonorris: congratsss 🥹🥹🥹

louisvuitton: stunned! but not surprised 😌

fransicacgomes: oh my god! i knew something shifted!!!!

jeanpaulgaultier: please allow me to go wedding dress shopping with you 😅

➥ ynmodels: i was thinking abou asking you for a custom?

➥ jeanpaulgaultier: i really wanted to hear you ask first, we'll talk soon < 3

charlesleclerc: so happy for you both! almost strangled carlos when he told me that he lost the ring haha 😂

➥ ynmodels: he lost the ring????

➥ carlossainz55: i *misplaced* it for like three minutes and panicked ok

maxverstappen1: can't wait for the wedding 😻

alexandrasaintmleux: im screaminggggg 🤯🤯🤯

voguemagazine: 🥳🥳🥳

lewishamilton: about time carlos!!!

➥ carlossainz55: only took me three attempts 🥴

➥ ynmodels: three???

➥ carlossainz: you make me nervous 🫣

oscarpiastri: congrats!

zendaya: that ring looks HEAVYYYY 😮‍💨🥴

➥ ynmodels: oh you can't miss it baby 🥱👅

harpersbazaarus: oooooh happy for you babes💋💋💋

carlossainzofficial: welcome to the family, officially!

comments on this post have been limited.

© httpsserene 2024

[judes-hoe]

Bad Call ~ JB5

Parrings ~ Jude Bellingham x reader

Summary ~ when Jude comes home from the game you let him do whatever he wants to let that anger out

Warnings ~ pure filth

A/N ~ we got fucking robbed tf was the ref thinking I don’t think he knows how to do his job. Sorry this is so bad I tried my best also lemme tag @mentalbaddiex cause I told her I’d make one so I’ll tag her😙

~~~~~~~~~~~

You were happy to see Jude back playing on the pitch, you would have gone to the game but you had to stay home and take care of your new German Shepard puppy. You watched the whole game sitting on the couch with Hunter. When you saw the ref blow the whistle while the ball was mid air you were also furious. You got even more mad when they gave Jude a red card.

You could tell how mad Jude was. You knew when he came home that you’d let him do what he needed to calm down. You took Hunter out to go to the bathroom before going upstairs to sleep knowing Jude won’t be home till tomorrow afternoon. You go up to your room and put Hunter in his cage since he’s just a puppy. Then you get settled in bed laying down and scrolling on your phone, liking everything about what happened at the end of the game.

~~~~

You woke up and got Hunter out his cage before going to the kitchen. You filled his food bowl and made yourself some breakfast. You sat down on the couch eating your breakfast, watching your favorite show. Jude texted you saying he was on his way home so you figured vini was giving him a ride home like he does sometimes.

Around 20 minutes later you hear the door open and slam shut and Hunter barking. “Babyy” Jude called out. “In the living room” you shouted. You watched as he turned the corner and walked over to you, laying on top of you. You start rubbing his back and scratching the back of his head. “I know you’re still angry, I’ll let you take it out on me,” you whispered in his ear. His head shot up and a smirk was displayed on his face.

He got up and picked you up walking to the bedroom. He laid you on the bed and started kissing you roughly. “God im so mad” he said between kisses. “I know baby just take it all out on me,” you said back. He took all your clothes off only leaving your panties on, he took all his off too expect for his boxers. He started kissing down your body until he got to your pussy, he quickly takes off your panties and starts eating you out like it’s his last meal.

He made you cum 2 times with his mouth before he finally came up and kissed you awhile taking his boxers off. He took his cock and lined it up with your entrance before slamming in. He started going as fast and as hard as he could letting his anger out. You in the other hand, your eyes were in the back on your head, you were moan so loud you thought the neighbors would think you’re getting murdered. He leaned down and started kissing you and leaving marks on your neck. You were clawing at his back it probably looked like a cat attacked him.

He had put you in ever position you can think of doggy, cowgirl, anything. You had came about 4 times before the overstimulation got to much and you had to use the safe word. He came about 3 times, but he ran a nice warm bath for you both and after that you both got into bed and he let you baby him a little even tho he just fucked the shit outta you.

Let’s just say you couldn’t really walk for 2 days and Jude had to take care of you.

~~~~~~~~

[balteredsworld]

negotiations. gregory house

🥼🩺 | house would rather fight you, but negotiates a date to a gala for a truce.

masterlist : greg house n all

tags/warnings! house being house, lawyer!reader, drugs, not enemies per say but there's def something there, reader is stacy's apprentice of sorts | gifs by @propertyofjameswilson

author's note: this was one of the first requests i got in my inbox! i accidentally deleted it omg but i hope this finds you <3 lemme know what you guys think!

"if this is an ethical boards issue, file the report over there," you spoke, eyes never leaving the monitor screen.

you already knew it was house from the way a constant thud crept its way to your office. that, and you could see his figure from your peripheral, so really you didn't need to look up.

"it's adorable that you automatically know it's me," he noted, obviously humoured. "if i didn't know better, i would've pegged you down as a secret admirer."

still, that didn't inspire much of a reaction from you other than a short glance. the two of you have been veering on this lane since you replaced stacy seven months ago. you were much colder than she was, and so much less accommodating to his devious needs.

house often wondered how stacy even took a liking to you, but then again she was also ruthless when he first met her. by that logic, you didn't fall from the tree. you were your mentor's very picture, but oh were you much icier. it was annoying, but he liked drilling you.

unfortunately for him, you were several inches thick. so he considered you worse than cuddy in that regard. at least she entertained his whims, but you... you didn't care nor bat an eye.

you said all the appropriate, correct and right things.

"well?"

"i need you," he admitted ominously.

your brows knitted, "right...?"

a silence broke between the two of you, causing you to finally look up and meet his eyes.

"house, if this is an ethics question, you have cuddy to advise you," you sighed. "i only deal with court and legal processes."

he shook his head. "i need you."

you sent him another worrisome look, before finally giving in. "what for?"

"tonight's the gala. i need a date."

:..don't you have hookers for that? i'm sure they would like the pay," you told him, voice and tone slow, still unsure what the gimmick was with this request.

if you had learned one thing in your seven months here at princeton was that everything involving house was some sort of mind game. you'd dealt with him enough times to know that, and seen him through three excruciating court appearances because the man couldn't and wouldn't shut up.

house was stupid in the way he was careless.

he plopped himself on your client chairs, hands wrapping the knob of his cane like he was considering some great philosophy or debate in his mind, surely one about the manmade idea of a god.

"hmm, good point. hookers do have their perks-less backtalk, more enthusiasm," he hummed, pretending to think, brows raising as he offered the explanation to his request. "but, hey, i figured slumming it with you might be an interesting change of pace."

despite his nonchalant closing of the question, he was still there. the proposition hung heavy in the your silence, piercing through the airy creak of the floorboards from the wobble of his cane.

you cocked your brow, asking, "so you want me to be your entertainment?"

at that house scrunched his face.

"entertainment? that's putting it generous," he remarked, looking at you with incredulous eyes as he leaned on the chair's backrest to take a vicodin. "i was thinking more like a reluctant accomplice in a dull evening. but who knows, you might surprise me."

he wanted you to bite. if you were cameron, then maybe you would've then and there, and entertain house's wild fantasy of taking you to the gala to stir up hospital gossip. but you still didn't know the caveat to your compliance, not to mention the sea of paperwork you'd been made to deal with due to his merry malpractice.

it was like this every other week, somehow piling larger because you had to justify house's forgeries on paper.

"well, i'm flattered at your proposal, but alas i'm swamped from your court hearing last week," you straightened up, gesturing to the piles and piles of folders and legal binders littering your desk. "i have you to thank for that i believe."

your dry remark elicited an impatient huff from house, all but crass and lax about administrative affairs of his hospital job.

"the perks of my charming personality. you're welcome for the excitement," he told you, leaning back toward you to flick through the papers on your desk.

"what's the gimmick?"

"no gimmicks. just you and me surviving the god awful gala, and you can have tickets to whatever show you want. what do you say?"

he looked at you innocently.

"there's always a gimmick with you, house. it makes your puzzle for your team to figure out. so what's the puzzle here?" you query, locking your hands together.

more than anything, this was negotiation. anything was negotiable with house: rules, conduct... the law.

anything was remotely subjective was up for his objective debate, all to prop himself up with more advantage to do whatever he wants in the hospital. even though he makes up for it with his rightness, it's made up more work for you

"you on my arm; i need to quiet down cuddy," he finally reveals, pursing his lips. "she's antsy about our squashbuckling. personally think it's great pr, but mommy says otherwise."

you let out a breath, considering the argument. he was right, of course. the times the two of you went to court, you looked like you could barely control your client even with your stern voice and threats. your threats were empty in house's books. so long as he proved himself on principle, consequences were an afterthought to him.

his integrity made him a man easy to admire, but he would rather ruffle your feathers to see how far you'd go. it infuriated and vexed you. but, if this was really a chance to call an armistice, then his proposition was more than an attractive offer.

"okay," you agreed.

house bobbed his head, appeased with your agreement, "great."

"but i don't want tickets."

he edged his head, encouraging you to go on. eyes wary, nonetheless.

"i want the next case without a pile of files for me to review."

a beat.

he blinked.

then he uncontrollably laughed. the fucker laughed.

"that's cute, y/l/n," he chortled, sinking into the backrest completely. he was smug, face dancing with amusement and disbelief like you believed he could really do that.

"let's see, you want me to diagnose a complex medical case discarding my process and adhere to standard protocol. wow that's really cute."

"well, fine then. appease cuddy another way," you waved him off, letting your eyes fall to your monitor to go back to work.

sensing this, house groaned a sigh, exchanging his previous amusement for your veering annoyance. he took his fingers and massaged the bridge of his nose.

"alright, you want a break from my malpractice masterpieces? fine. i'll keep it clean the next time. but if i manage to save a life without a single piece of paper, you owe me more than the gala."

you stared back at him, mildly bewildered, "are you asking me out on a date, house?"

"my diagnostic powers deserve more than a gala."

so it was a yes, then. part of you wanted to beam, but that would betray your icy façade. so instead you settled for cool nod, won by the whole proposal. you knew he wouldn't resist a challenge if you posed one, and if it meant less work for you, then you'd let house take you out.

house also owed you more than a date after the last seven months of putting up with his shit.

"wear a nice suit," you accepted, weathering a ghost of a smile. "pick me up at my apartment at 8."

[saintslewis]

“𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋” - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 & 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader x charles leclerc

summary: the angel or devil on your shoulders story has been around for centuries, everyone has their own without realising. yours want to help with your…desires after meeting you.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, slight smut (i tried) (18+ MDNI), sorry for the typos!

wc: 3.8k

saint’s team radio: y’all omg. this is a whole kinktober draft and it’s only being released rn? don’t judge 😔🖐🏽. wanna release six other works so let me know if you want those and pls enjoy this 🤭 btw, this is my baby so treat her nice!! thank you wifey @lorarri for this idea, love ya!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

taglist: @thisismeracing @lorarri @httpsserene @non-stop-imagines @goldenalbon @goldsainz (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

kinktober with saint!

-

Tugging on the stranger's shirt, you whined into his mouth eagerly. His hold on your face was so strong as if he never wanted to let go of you, the two of you only meeting at a club a mere hour before.

His shoes were somehow off as he walked backwards towards the hotel bed, his knees hitting the edge of the bed and his hands eager to find the zipper on your little black dress. Your hands travelling up his shirt, feeling his skin under your soft hands. Yes it was odd that he had yet to put his hands anywhere other than your face, but you wanted him to take the lead. Finally taking a breath as he separated your swollen lips, your lip gloss smudged across his mouth. The stranger let go of your face and dug through his pockets, your hopes high thinking he would pull out protection for the rest of the night but your disappointment became present as he pulled out his phone.

"I have to pull out the playlist babe. You'll love it." The man said, his face all red and he bites his bottom lip as he went through his phone. "Oh shit, i have to make it. Give me a few,  baby."

And just like that, your arousal disappeared within a second. Leaning your weight onto one of your legs, you held onto the dangling purse that never moved from your shoulder. In all honesty, you had felt quite lightheaded with you immediately blaming it on the alcohol you had earlier on. As much as you were tipsy, you were still very alert and aware of your surroundings and your decisions. However, the slight touch you felt on your waist was enough to trip you up a little, you holding your arms out to balance yourself. Furrowing your eyebrows, you quickly looked behind you only to not see anything.

The tug on your mini dress was a bit stronger, a heavy touch landing on your waist as if it were to guide you to stand straight. The sound of your heels hitting the floor quite hard startled the man in front of you, making him look up at you and smirk then continue on his phone. 

The hair at the back of your neck now stood up, a smell similar to cologne wafting through the air and you knew for sure that it was neither you or him that smelled like this. As if all the liquor in your body disappeared, you took a deep breath and walked towards the man in front of you only to feel the back of your dress being pulled backwards.

"Come home." The soft yet deep voice whispered right into your ear, an accent present.

That was all it took for you to whip your body towards the hotel door, so ready to get out of there until you heard another voice in the other ear. "At least say goodbye, Y/n."  This time, the voice had a twinge of rasp in it with a more pronounced accent to it.

Your gasp was far too loud for him to not hear you. The air became quite still as you felt like people were standing next to you. "Are you okay? You've been looking a little crazy over there." The man who's name you've yet to know, laughed as if he was at a comedy show.

Staring daggers into his head, you chose to keep yourself calm then answer him. "I've just got a bit of a headache so I'm gonna go." You pursed your lips together, pointing at the door with your thumb. "What? We were having so much fun, baby." He audibly whined, stomping his foot a little.

Rolling your eyes so far, you turned around to leave the room, barely muttering your goodbyes to the confused man. Walking down the hallway, you ordered your uber and headed for the elevator with your thoughts running rampage at the ghostly feeling of the large hands on your waist.

Entering the metal box, you faced the mirror and played with your messy wig a bit just shaping it up. Looking down at your heels for a split second, you lifted your head once again only to see two men in there with you. The scream you let out was haunting but the men couldn't be more relaxed, rather smiling at your fear.

"Did you even like that guy, mon cheri?" The one on your left side asked with his arms crossed, your eyes making contact in the mirror. Your breathing became much faster and the goosebumps began rising on your exposed arms. "Tell the truth, love." The one on your right spoke up, his tatted arm flexed a little as he put his hand in his pocket. All you could do was shake your head, you didn't have the courage to respond verbally because you were slightly intimidated by their stares.

The lights from the elevator flickered a little as they stood up straight, showing their height to you. "We missed you while you were gone." The tatted one leaned his arm on your shoulder, smiling at you whilst chewing his gum and his sunglasses were so dark that you couldn't see through them.

"I still can't believe you were about to fuck that guy, not to mention we had to eat human food while watching you." The one wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans said in disgust, even rolling his eyes as he leaned onto the elevator railing.

"Be nice." Leaning on your shoulder just a bit more, his smile dropped as he turned his head to look at his counterpart with a warning tone in his voice.

"Huma- who are you guys and how long is this fucking ride going to take?" You pushed his arm off you, backing up whilst looking in between the two men. "Don't worry about that, mi belle. We'll see you at home." The green eyed man finally smiled at you and pointed for you to look at the other man.

"Turn around and be calm when you walk out there." You could tell that he was staring at you through his sunglasses, patting your waist and you listened. The moment you faced the large metal doors, the two were no longer there and you looked back and forth between the door and the mirror but you were the only one standing there.

"Okay girl, no more sativa milkshakes for you." You huffed a breath out as the doors opened to a large group of men clad in suits, talking about business related things as they entered. As you walked out, you pulled your tube dress lower but felt all types of eyes on you, one man even having the audacity to grab your wrist. Looking back at the old man in disgust to shrug your hand away, you spotted the green eyed man once again standing in the back of the elevator. All he did was wink at you as you managed to unhand yourself and walk out of the elevator and watched as the door closed.

Hurrying your way through the lobby, you heard loud screams from within the elevator, startling everyone in the lobby. Those screams were horrifying, sounds of hands banging on the doors as the elevator slowly lifted, the noises fading away as everyone stared at each other in horror.

Moments later, you finally settling in the uber and sitting quietly as the car zoomed through the city, the air conditioning cooling your burning skin. Your body felt tired from everything you just experienced, your energy drained from the incredibly long night you had.

The next morning, you woke up to a glass of water and a pill on your bedside. Thinking it was your insight into the next day, you silently thanked yourself for putting it there for yourself. Sitting on your couch whilst eating grapes, you turned on your tv with the news channel blaring out the latest breaking stories.

"One dead, several injured in elevator incident at Radisson Hotel. Some may find the following description unnerving so please be warned. Here we have one of the victims with us with a broken arm. Mr Osbourne." The news anchor announced and chills ran down your spine as your eyes were glued to the screen.

"It was insane! It was as if the devil himself was in that elevator with us! It was just me and the guys coming from a business meeting and when we got in, there was no one in there besides us but the minute the door closed, this Venom looking demon just showed up and just ripped Jason to threads! It said something in French then scratched a few of us before it left!" The distressed and traumatised man said into the mic, close to tears.

"C'est ce qu'il obtient en touchant notre fille." A familiar voice said from your kitchen, the same green eyed man from yesterday night smiled at the tv. "What the fuck!" You screeched as you threw your grapes to the side, startled by him once again.

"He said that's what he gets for touching you, sweetie." Your head snapped to your right, seeing the tatted guy as well with his arm stretched behind your head. "Also Charles, can we not scare her so much? I feel bad as it is." He said with his ring clad hand sitting pretty on his lap, his toned leg relaxed as if he's been here millions of times.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here? And how'd you spawn here like some fucking vampires?" You yelled, beginning to pace around your living room. The two just stared at you in amusement, their heads tilted with their eyes a bit low.

"Oh, wait till you meet Carlos and Lando. Their fangs are insane." Charles joked as the one who's name you've yet to learn just softly smiled. "Okay okay, to put you out of your misery, I'm Lewis and this is Charles. We're your angel and devil that help make your decisions." Lewis said.

Looking at the two men in horror, you shook your head a bit. "Am i still high? What the fuck is going on?" You muttered to yourself, holding your head in your hands. You couldn't bare to look at them, your brain had to be playing tricks on you.

"Okay, think about this. Remember that one bag you really wanted but you knew you wanted to save that money for something else?" Charles spoke, standing up to hold your shoulders in his large hands, stopping your pacing.

"My Diesel bag?" You asked and Lewis nodded. "That was all Charles. I tried to convince you to not do it but then I saw how excited you were about it so I let him take over." He smiled, his sunglasses off and his chocolate eyes glancing at you.

"...What?" Your shoulders dropped in defeat. "How am  I supposed to believe you guys? What if you actually just walked into my home and decided to play tricks on me?" You inquired, not wanting to look into both of their eyes.

"Whenever you decide to make a decision about anything, we're there. You're hungry, what do you wanna have?" Charles tilted your head toward his with his fingers, making you look into his emerald green eyes. "I don't know, maybe pizza but I've got some stuff in the fridge so I can have those." You mumbled. Ultimately deciding to just go into the fridge, Lewis was suddenly in front of you with the cutest little smile on his smile. Looking at the couch, Charles was sitting there watching you take quiet steps towards the kitchen.

Not wanting to take your eyes off of them, you manoeuvred through the kitchen to take out a frying pan. "What if I want to impulsively book a flight to New York?" and without a blink, Charles was next to you, leaning his arm against the kitchen counter with a little smirk. "Do you want to get a tattoo before you go? Maybe that belly piercing you were thinking of." He was so smug with his questions, making sure to keep eye contact with you to completely listen to him.

Feeling a presence next to you also leaning against the kitchen counter with his back, Lewis wasn't smiling as much and rather gave you a 'don't even think about it' look. "Or would you rather save up that money for buying yourself something nice?" The tattooed man tilted his head a bit with a similar smirk as Charles and you weren't going to lie and say that your knees didn't become weak under their stares.

"Something..nice..later on." You were truly lost for words. Things like this only ever existed in books or movies and usually it was never two alluring men staring you down as you said your final decision out loud. "Ah, mon cheri. I was hoping you'd choose my fun idea." Charles sounded disappointed but judging by his face, he was far from it.

There was nothing around you to ground yourself back down to earth so you chose to grip onto your pajama shorts, still stunned by the eye contact they managed to keep with you. "I can see you're still shocked at us being here so we'll come back soon. Is that okay with you, angel?" Lewis stood up straight, not moving his spot.

The nickname had your head spinning, here you were already struggling to figure out how you were going to sort out the ache in your lower regions and the nickname had set everything off but of course, you weren't going to ask for such help after you just met them.

"She's too cute, can't even answer your question. We'll be here but not in human form so anytime you want to see us, we'll be right there. Bye, mon ange." And the kiss that Charles left on your cheek felt like a fairy's kiss, so soft. All Lewis did was giving you a side hug, making sure you felt his hand on your waist. With that, they disappeared into thin air.

With Friday evening rolling in, it was safe to say you missed your boys. God, you thought it was crazy to even refer to them as that but you truly wanted to believe that they were there just for you. It also didn't help that your hormones were spiralling out of control throughout the week. The slightest hint of their colognes would waft through the air and you knew that they were there with you, like they said.

You couldn't tell your friends about this, knowing damn well that they would think you're making this up or that you're too caught up in your current read. The two men really captured you, thinking about them so intimately in your free time, remembering everything about their appearances for you to put them in your little daydreams and even going to sleep thinking of them.

Even the thought of them at the moment is making you clench your legs together, the all familiar ache between your thighs showing up once again. Determined to not think of the two entities tonight, you patted your eyelashes upwards and stood up to go take a look at your outfit in the mirror.

Quite similar to the dress you wore on your previous night out, you pulled it down a little and admired your outfit. The jewellery fitting so well with the newest edition being the anklet you bought earlier in the week.

"You look so pretty, mon ange." A voice said behind you, Charles manspreading on your bed with a slight tilt to his head, eyes looking at you through his glasses. He made your breath hitch and you couldn't believe that he was actually there.

"O-oh uh thank you, Charles." Once again, you didn't know what to do with your hands. Wiping your hands on your dress, you couldn't even look at his face but you just knew that once you did, you wouldn't look back.

He continued to smile at you, observing your every move, blinking ever so slowly. "You think we haven't heard how you've been calling for us every night?" Feeling hands on your waist, you turned around to see Lewis staring down at you with a glint in his eyes.

Your legs crossed each other in that moment, the arousal beginning to feel much stronger the more you looked at the both of them. Both of their voices lower than usual and that made you slightly nervous, this exact moment was the one you would daydream about. "You were there?" You asked, wanting desperately to hide your face away from their intense eyes.

The look Lewis gave you said everything you needed to know, his hand gliding to your lower back. Your breathing became lighter as he brought his hand to your chin, tilting your head upwards. You were slowly losing your mind as he continued to look into your eyes, an intense feeling radiating off of him.

“And to think that you were going to find yourself a random stranger to satisfy you when we’re the ones on your mind.” Charles tsked, still sitting and watching the scene in front of him.

As if he was right next to your ear, you heard every word he said and shuddered a bit, the energy shifted entirely. “Look how beautiful she is, Charles. Maybe we should just let her go to the club.” Lewis said with a smirk on his face, one you wish you could wipe off. He slowly let go of your face and body, feeling the warmth of his hands fade away as he went to sit next to Charles, manspreading as well.

“You’re right, Lewis. She got all ready for it and she has to go meet other people who’ll try to hear those sweet sounds.” Charles teased, not moving from his position. The two entities shared a look then right back at you.

You could only shake your head, the arousal pooling in your underwear and the heat at your core was calling for one of them to do something, anything. They watched you as if you were prey and their little smirks became more and more annoying as the seconds passed by. “Aw sweetie, you can’t even stand still. You have to tell us what you want if you want us to help.” Lewis now tilted his head and looked you up and down as he watched you try your best to stand still with crossed legs.

Hands touched your waist, pushing you forward towards the angel’s open legs. “Mon amour, your mind is not clear. If you want us, just say so. You know we’re all yours.” Charles said, moving your hair away from your neck to plant his lips on there, immediately groaning as your sweet perfume invaded his nose.

Lewis looked up at you as you stood before him, the smirk still present. He sat up and placed his hand on your leg, gently stroking your soft skin as your eyes were glued to his. You wanted him to stand up but the words couldn’t come out of your mouth however he stood up, listening to your instructions.

You reached your manicured hand up Lewis’ broad chest, feeling the soft fabric of his top only to reach the plethora of chains and pearls on his tattooed neck. Hooking your pointer finger onto his jewellery, you pulled him down to connect your lips together.

The kiss felt magical, your lips moulding together as you felt his smile whilst his teeth bit down on your lower lip before letting go, your lip gloss barely transferring onto his face. Feeling a hand on your neck guiding your head to rest your head on their shoulder, Charles looked at you and simply pecked your lips, the look in his eyes very telling as your back touched his front.

You slightly whimpered, not wanting to make a sound to ruin the moment. “I need to hear you, princess. Make all the noise you want.” Lewis muttered as he took to the floor and kneeled in front of you, the scene making you audibly moan. Slowly undressing you from your shoes to the stockings, the angel reached for your leg to place it on his shoulder but you stopped him before he could.

“What’s wrong, mom ange? You want to stop?” Charles asked, worry laced in his voice as he halted his kissing on your neck. “No, I just wanna…sit on your face.” You whispered, hoping that Lewis heard you clearly.

“Say it louder, darling.” He said, still on his knees as the sultry gaze made you even more wet. You quietly whined, not wanting to repeat the words. “Oh? Ma Cherie, you don’t want to speak?” Charles’ hand moved to grab your ass, making you whimper once again. Lewis did not once break eye contact with you, his large hand going up and down your thigh as he got closer and closer to your core. “I wanna sit on your face.” You said a little louder with a little roll of the eyes.

Standing up then laying on his back, Lewis spoke as he watched Charles guide you onto his lap with you crawling your way to his face, only reaching to his abdomen with both legs on either side.

Lewis planted his hands onto your thighs, bringing you even closer to his face, your dripping core eventually right above his mouth as he admired your pussy. “We’ll sort out that attitude but for now, let me make our princess happy.” He said, pushing you by your hips to fully sit on his mouth with his tongue lapping your folds.

“Mon amour, keep your eyes on me.” Charles said, standing in front of you as he watched you crumble as your moans struggled to come out. The devil leaned forward to unzip your top, your breasts falling freely and he immediately placed his mouth on your left nipple, kissing it with such care.

Your moans became louder as both men satisfied you until the sun rose, never leaving your side as you reached your orgasms at least 10 times leaving your body exhausted yet utterly pleasured. Experiencing heaven and hell with them was to become the norm for you.

-

[ryndicate]

Double Down ⨳ Yoshida, Denji

“Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, nudes posted without permission, drug use, exhibition, creampie, videos taken with permission, stepcest, infidelity, masturbation, handjob, some spit mentions, premature ejac, implied fuckery, implied theft, if there's more i am just too wacked out to see it so lemme know!

event: @bastardblvd 's slimeball alley collab !! my first submission of who knows how many to come, im gonna try to not go crazy with it, promise

notes: didn't realize until it was done that I could've made it much more slimy but its okay. We'll get 'em next time babes 😩 this idea is expanding on a little blurb I put in cassie's inbox once, i included it in the fic itself with some itty bitty changes

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

Your fist slams on the bathroom door. “I swear to god, Denji! Where the fuck did you get those! Delete them now!”

“I already told you, Power found them online!” Your stepbrother yells back through the door, keeping his weight against the handle so that you can’t force your way in.

“You’re full of shit you fucking perv! You took them off my phone or something.”

“Wanna fucking bet? The real perv is that prettyboy bastard you call baby,” Denji sneers back, yelping as you get a good shove in on the creaking wood.

Your efforts to break the bathroom door pause. “The hell’re you talking about?”

“I told you he was trouble the day you two met. What—you think I was lying?”

You growl under your breath at the barenecked taunt in Denji’s voice. Yeah he told you, one time before he got high out of his mind. The only reason you even met Yoshida Hirofumi was because he hooked your stepbrother up a couple times, and you begged to tag along once. That situation ended with your brother counting stars on his buddy’s ceiling while you saw them on the backs of your eyelids with the guy’s lips wrapped around your clit. 

One thing led to another, and that “prettyboy bastard” became your boyfriend. He’s a bit of an ass, but Yoshida’s also sweet and funny, doesn’t roll his eyes at your music choices, doesn’t bat an eye when you want to go out with your friends, and is full of sexy, smirky sass that makes him so fun to be around. Sure, you sent him some photos, but he wouldn’t have put them out anywhere.

Your anger deflates, but your indignance does not. You step away from the bathroom door. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

Denji throws the door open with a toothy grin, repeating himself. “You wanna bet?”

“You know what, yeah!” you snap at him, crossing your arms as he leans in the doorway, still looking smug. 

“Your boyfriend put your pics up on OnlyFans, and he’s using the money to pay for his xanny. If I’m right, you two gotta upload a video. Together,” Denji states, his eyebrows furrowed in twisted delight that makes you sneer at him.

“You’re disgusting!”

“Yeah? Tell me what you get if you win.”

Caught up in his childish bullshit, you push at his shoulder. “You gotta start an OnlyFans if you’re wrong, which you are. And you gotta wear lingerie.”

His smirk full drops at that, and he glares at you, cheeks darkerning. “Now who’s a perv.”

“This whole shit was your idea!”

“Lingerie?”

“How is wearing lingerie worse than telling your stepsister to fuck and post a video about it?!”

“Shut up!”

“And since we’re on the topic, I swear to god if you don’t stop taking my shit out of the laundry I’m gonna tell that redheaded lady at the DMV that she’s at the very top of your fap list.”

His blush deepens and he palms your face backwards in a light push. “The fuck she is. Shut up.”

“Yeah well, me and the thin fucking walls in this apartment would have to disagree.”

“Go find your boyfriend.”

“‘M gonna.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck him,” you hiss in barely supressed rage, gripping your boyfriend’s phone so tight you’re disappointed when it doesn’t crack. 

You’d waited for his high to hit him and let him drift off before going through his phone—what’s the point of asking him outright if it’s not true, right? No reason to stir the pot. But your stomach had dropped with unease when the account site was in his search history; you tried to brush it off as maybe he gets off to a set of camgirls, but the moment you saw the login info presaved—as in frequent entry—you began to forget the bet altogether.

Now your jaw is clenched, seething as you scroll through every racy picture you ever sent him. Each have thousands of views, hundreds of comments and jeez—so many subscribers. The heat of betrayal simmers through you. Your jaw drops at the total that’s set to drop into his account at the end of the week and resist the urge to slap Yoshida awake, but instead you set about trying to change the banking and login info, only to get halted by an infowall. Frustrated, you slip off the bed and call your stepbrother, edging into Yoshida’s bathroom so you don’t wake him up.

“You were right, and you fucking knew it, didn’t you? You set me up.” you hiss into the device as soon as he picks up with a mumbled ‘sup. You can hear voices and music in the background, paired with light explosions. You assume he’s out with his friends, probably gaming like usual. 

“You didn’t have to agree. Wait—” there’s the sound of the phone moving around and suddenly the music is gone. “Does that mean you’re gonna do it?”

“That’s besides the point, Denji!”

“Oh fuck, you are!”

“Chill your boner,” you snap, “‘m not gonna do it unless you help me!”

“Help you? What, like you want me to hold the camera or something?”

“Denji, I swear to god—”

“I’m kidding, jeez.”

“I can’t change the account info. They’re my pictures, and they’re already out there! He shouldn’t get to make money off of me.”

“Wait, so you want to keep the account?” He asks curiously. You hear a door slamming and wonder if he’s still moving, or if his friends are.

“Dude, we’ll have rent and anything else covered for the whole month with a single week’s drop from this thing. I don’t see a reason not to. I can quit Mcdonald’s!”

“Shit, for real? Lemme talk to Denki, ‘m pretty sure he knows a guy.”

“Thank you,” you coo into the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, just make sure you pay up.” You can hear his pervy smile, and you grumble a sulky fine at him.

“Ok. But he’s gotta do it soon. It pays out in a couple of days.”

“I’ll give him some cash to see if he can do it tonight. Don’t see why he’d say no—" Denji sounds a lot further away from the phone now, "—Oi! Don't bro! Give it back."

A familiar voice purrs into the receiver and you roll your eyes. "Heyyy, princess. You with that Yoshida guy still or are we allowed to hang now?"

"Byeee, Kiri. Tell Kat hi f'me." You hang up with a smile and leave the bathroom, glaring at your supposed boyfriend still sleeping. You never heard him say he was working and you always kinda wondered where he was getting his cash, but you always just thought he was dealing or something. Not the kind of think you ask about. You obviously should’ve asked.

You crawl into his lap and begin sucking on his exposed throat, admiring the sharp lines, the bob of his adam’s apple as thick lashes flutter open. 

“Mmm,” Yoshida moans. “Damn, was I out long?”

“Nah,” you hum, slipping your fingers up his shirt, smoothing over his waistline. “Got bored without you, that’s all.”

“Yeah, baby?” He grins up at you, dark eyes fuzzed out and sultry, and his hands come up to settle on your hips, easing you into a slow grind. “Wanna do something?”

“Mm. Maybe,” you tease softly, pushing his shirt up his chest and leaning down to wrap your lips around his nipples. He groans at the warm, slick suction, arching into your touch. 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes out, his cock swelling beneath you. 

“Maybe I wanna do something…different.”

Yoshida grins up at you, half-lidded. “Yeah? Like what?”

Your nails make pink lines down his chest as you lean in to whisper in his ear. “What if you fucked me, and we let some people watch?”

His fingers dig into the fat of your waist, his dick thumping beneath you. “Anyone I know?”

Yoshida’s pupils have overtaken his coal irises, and you give him an inviting smile. “No one specific. I was thinking more like…a video or something. I wanna be able to see it later.”

“Holy fuck, baby. That’s sexy,” Yoshida grins up at you. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”

“Me either,” you breath softly, rocking yourself over his covered erection.

You’re left to yelp as he displaces you from your seat on his lap and pulls you out of the bed by your wrist with a wide smirk. “Come on.”

“Wait, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry baby, I just wanna pick something up at the Malmart first.”

“Fine, I guess,” you pout at him and his smirk only grows.

“‘S okay, baby. I’ll give you something too.”

“This is not what I meant when I said video, Hirofumi!” you gasp out. Your fingers are splayed out on the hood of his car as you try to stay upright. “Someone could actually see us!”

"If you don't wanna be seen, you gotta cum. Cause I'm not stopping til you cum."

"Fuck, fuck please, just hurry up!" You plead, half your words caught between whines and whimpers as he pounds into you from behind, your skirt flipped over your back.

"You think I'm not fucking you like I mean it?" There's so much smile in his voice that you want to call him on his bullshit for once, but the solid smacking of his hips into yours, the head of his dick pressing as deep as it can go with every thrust quickly makes you forget what you're snapping at him for.

"Just‐just, fucking make cum– ‘fumi!" You're desperately telling yourself you don't want to be seen. It's the middle of the night, so even here, parked under the one of the many lightposts that don’t work in grimetown's 24-hour walmart parking lot, the risk of anyone seeing is slim.

But not zero. Especially with the light from his phone camera shining down on your exposed lower half. You’re like a slutty beacon for whoever might be looking this way.

"I'm working on it baby, you gotta relax." His fingers slide around your waist, brushing past your clit and forcing a frustrated whimper past your lips at the neglect, to drag them through the slick dripping obscenely from your pussy lips. It's dripping to the rusted black hood, making it glisten. He aims the camera down at them before moving it back to the way your pussy clings to his cock. "You're so fucking wet for this, you'd think the whole thing was your idea. Well, most of it was."

You don't answer him, trying to work yourself back on him, chasing that fluttering heat twisting itself tighter and tigher with each passing second.

"Good girl, look at you. Fuck, look how bad you want—"

"Oi! Get the fuck out of here before I—"

Your whole body locks up at the tired but authoritative voice that rings across the lot.

Your boyfriend calls back. "C'mon man, have a heart. Let me finish her off and I'll give you a look." Except his last syllable staggers off with a groan, broken with a laugh as his grip on your hips tightens to a bruising pressure. The vice grip of your cunt has him looking down to sees your juices gush around the girth of his cock, dripping down your thighs to dirty the hood of his car even more. The sight pushes pushes him over and he calls out again, his voice tight but smug.

"Nevermind, we're done here."

He gets one last shot of his cum dripping out of you before closing out the livefeed.

“It’s like four in the morning,” Denji grumbles, rubbing one of his eyes as he cracks his bedroom open further at the sight of you. “Thought you were Power or somethin’, jeez.”

Denji blinks the blur from his eyes, zeroing in on your screen, and you just about hear his pupils expanding. He pulls a shaky inhale and you roll your eyes.

“Done. Bet over, and here’s your damn proof,” you grumble right back, slamming your phone against his chest and shoving your way into his bedroom to flop down into his bed. It had taken over an hour to convince Yoshida back to his place and get him to fool around enough for him to pass out and you to sneak back home.

"Also Kiri wants you to call him back. He's mad you hung up on him."

A small grin curls your lips but you don't respond, wiggling deeper into his mattress until you're comfortable.

He throws himself down in the bed next to you. “Turn on my speakers.” 

“Or you could just wear headphones, you freak.”

“Nah. Turn ‘em on.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you stretch out to reach up to his desk, turning on the bluetooth speakers that he usually uses to be a nuisance when he’s smoking. “If your dad was home, I’d kill you for this.”

“You’re not even breaking up with him, are you?” Denji chortles, ignoring your bickering. His eyes are glued to the screen as he shoves a hand into his loosened shorts. “What the fuck, you guys were outside?”

You shrug. The video’s only been up for a couple hours and it already has triple the views and donations of all the photos Yoshida has put up so far. “Looks like he’s gonna be making me lots of money, so why not? It’s the least he could do to pay me back.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t answer you, his breathing getting heavier. You close your eyes and sigh as the sounds wet sounds and your own whiny moaning starts bouncing off the walls of his room, wondering to yourself if you really sound like that or if part of you was exaggerating because of the camera. The mattress creaks every now and then as his hips jump, his arm brushing your side as he grinds into his own fist. 

You roll to face him, taking in the sound of his stuttered breaths, the muted slick sound of his fist pumping in his shorts. “So what about this gets you so riled up?”

Denji groans, stomach rippling where his shirt is pulled up around his midsection. “I’nno, it’s hot, isn’t it?”

You keep prodding, “What is? Yoshida? Or me?”

He gives a small whine that has your pulse picking up in sick interest, so you continue. “Was Power really the one to find it? Or…you were subbed to the account, weren’t you Denji?”

“Mm- maybe?”

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself, listening to your own voice begging to cum, shifting your weight onto your arm so you can look at him. A strange curiosity has taken over your body. He looks wrecked but his eyes are still on the screen. “Denji, look at me.”

Your body tingles as his eyes tear towards you, but he’s still got a hand around himself, hidden from your eyes. “Can I touch it?”

“You wanna what?” he moans, just barely, teeth digging into his lip.

“Can I jerk you off?”

You’re a little surprised when he actually hesitates. You’ve tolerated it all this time; as much as he pervs out on you, and your stuff, yet somehow he’s got a little crumb of morality left in there somewhere. And right now…you wanna kill it.

“My panties, my pictures…is this really any different?” you ask softly, sweetly, as you run with this electric current, placing your hand over his covered groin. You grin as his hand immediately goes slack at your touch and slips out of his shorts, and you get to feel for the first time how hard he is, rubbing over the smooth fabric, feeling out the shape of him.

“I mean…I guess not.” He sucks in a breath as you grip him over his shorts and give a couple experimental strokes. “B-but what about—?”

Denji’s head drops back to the pillows with a groan, phone in a death grip as you tug his waistband down, his dick slapping free. It’s pretty and slender, flushed deep red.

“What about what?”

“What about prettyboy, huh?” He finally gets it out as you spit in your hand and take him up again, stroking him steadily from base to tip, squeezing at the top with a gentle twist of your wrist. Yoshida always seemed to like it, seems like he does too. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? Not the whole stepsister thing?” You shrug. You’re still stung about Yoshida’s betrayal, so this feels like a little bit of retribution. A little bit. You still need to find more ways to make him pay first, but this is a good start. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, but ‘s not like you and me are dating, Denji. It’s a handjob. What’re you gonna do, marry me?”

Denji splutters and his dick throbs in your hand. “Don- Don’t say stupid shit!”

You coo at him and his lips part, panting hard as you work him faster. 

“What– haa, what if it wasn’t just a handjob? What then?” Denji gives a low moan as you settle over his lower thighs so you can gently cup his balls. They seem to tighten under your touch, before he relaxes and he tries to look at you. 

“What, like my mouth or something?” you ask playfully, leaning over and showing him your tongue, letting a strand of spit drip down to his dick.

A litany of curses tumblr from his mouth as Denji squeezes his eyes shut, fingers twisting into the pillow beneath his head as his cock jerks and shoots a load of hot sticky white into your palm, getting smeared down his throbbing shaft as you slowly work him through his high until only a couple dribbles get pressed out by a final pass of your thumb over his slit.

“Wasn’t expecting you to finish already.” You wipe your hand off on his comforter and try to ignore the throbbing in your panties. You feel like you can still imagine the slick from earlier tonight seeping out of you, but it’s as if it’s no longer enough.

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he calms his breathing enough to raise himself up on his forearms. He watches you as you take your phone and flop down next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the rest of the video.”

“It’s online now, freak. You can watch it whenever.”

“Yeah...” 

You’re too busy trying to go through the account settings to notice the way he’s eyeing up your thighs; he hasn’t even put his dick away yet. 

“Hey,” he mutters softly, ignoring your glare when he puts a hand on your thighs and pulls them open. “If you can touch me, does that mean I get to touch you?”

Your pulse jumps and you try to keep your true thoughts hidden as you hide back behind your phone. “I guess that’s fair. If you wanted to.”

You can hear the click of Denji’s throat as he swallows, and you can’t stop the low whimper as his calloused fingers brush your inner thigh, right at the edge of your panties. 

They’re warm as they brush over the seat of your panties, timid but curious as they explore the surface, stroking over the tempting warmth and wet seeping through the thin fabric. A bolt of pleasure bursts and has your gut clenching as he swirls over your clothed clit

“H-hey, wait,” you say suddenly, nerves getting the better of you as you try to make sense of Denji taking control of your body. “It got switch but this isn’t my banking info. Is it yours?” You flip the screen towards him, and his brown eyes squint in the pale blue light.

“Uh, nah, that’s not mine.”

You mewl as he pulls your panties to the side and traces a finger through your folds, delicate, hungry. “Who did you say– mm, h-hacked the account for me?”

“I told you. M’friend Denki, his buddy did it. That purple-haired guy who works at the smoke shop.”

“The one wi—” you suck in a breath as he sinks his index finger into you. “With the tattoos?”

“Yeah him,” Denji mumbles, hardly paying attention to your words. He’s grinding against the bed as he pushes his middle in alongside it, imagining the tight squeeze around his dick instead.

Your groan is part pleasure, part dismay as you realize just who he’s talking about. “Oh fuck me.”

Denji bullies his way between your thighs in an instant.

“N-no, Den– that’s not what I meant!”

[heartpascal]

something is rotten

▹ — joel miller x niece!reader

▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.

▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!

▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS

▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.

In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.

But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.

You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.

There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.

You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.

You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.

Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.

The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.

For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.

It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.

The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.

Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.

That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.

You felt sick.

That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.

With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”

Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”

“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.

You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.

You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.

“‘M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.

She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”

The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”

“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.

You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.

Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.

“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.

“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”

That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”

“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.

“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.

“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”

The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.

Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.

Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.

The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.

Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.

Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.

You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.

Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.

Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.

“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.

You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—

If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.

There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.

It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?

Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.

“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.

He said your name, and you snapped.

“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.

“Kid, just listen—”

You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.

“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.

“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”

You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.

You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.

It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.

You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.

The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.

Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.

Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.

Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”

Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.

“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”

“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”

He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?

“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”

“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.

Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.

He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.

Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.

Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.

“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”

Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”

Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.

“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.

Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.

“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.

The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.

Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.

When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.

“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.

“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.

“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.

“Swear.”

[kittievampire]

There's this text message from Simeon where he doesn't know how to take pictures on his phone. MC offers to help and he says that Lucifer would be impressed to see his pictures if MC taught him what to do.

My headcanon is that Simeon isn't as naive as he seems tho (cuz how you gonna be an angle and be dressed in the most slutty outfit huh). So MC goes to purgatory hall, helps him out, then "helps him out" wink wonk and he uses his 'new' camera skills to take pictures of her. And a couple 'accidentally' make their way to Lucifer.

I think it would be best if the way Simeon acts genuinely makes mc believe that he's innocent so she's not just naive, he's playing her ya know? Fuckboy Simeon? Gaslihhting? Imagine if he said "you know what you're doing". Okey tanks <3

So jealous cause I never got this text from Simeon >:(

Like, does bro not love me too? Wtf?

Anyways,

Lemme see what I have in my bag, dear~

Click here if ya wanna request!

Taking Photos is Hard!

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Feigning Innocence (Gaslighting), Fuckboy! Simeon x Fem! MC, Photo/Video Exhibitionism, Creampie, Mention of Facial, Lucifer is the real victim here

Enjoy.

Simeon wasn't the best with technology, and you knew this.

That's why you were so compliant when he requested your assistance.

"I'm sorry, again, for inconveniencing you, MC." He apologized once more as he stepped aside, allowing you entry to his shared room with Luke. "Luke is out right now. He and Barbatos had planned a baking marathon, and Solomon wanted to tag along as well, so it's just the two of us in here."

You nodded your head in understanding, sitting down on the white sofa. "Ooh, this is comfy," You said with a small smile. "Okay!" You clasped your hands together. "You said you needed help with photos. Do you know how to get to the camera?"

Simeon pulled the device out of his pocket, pinching his brows together as he swiped through the applications. "Yes... I believe so, I've been there once... What does it look like?" He asked, eyes flicking to meet your gaze for a mere moment before looking back down at the screen. "It has a camera icon," You said, gently grasping his arm and tugging at it so he'd sit down beside you on the sofa.

The angel sat himself down beside you, and you peered over his shoulder to look at the D.D.D., pointing at the camera icon. "Right there." He clicked on it, screen immediately presenting a closer look at his crotch area. You could've sworn you saw a tent in his pants, but you quickly shook it off with a blush.

"Okay, so, do you see this huge white circle right here?" Simeon nodded. "That's what you're going to click to take a photo."

The angel stared down at the D.D.D. "Oh, what does this thing do?" He asked, swiping to the video option and pointing at the red circle. "That's to take a video. Go back to the camera."

There was silence for a moment.

"How do I do that?" You let out a small sigh, swiping back to the camera option. "Try taking a photo, I'll be your model!" You joked, leaning back onto the couch. "Ah, okay! Wow, you sure know what you're doing!" Simeon shot up with a smile, holding the D.D.D. in each hand horizontally. You sighed in relief, thankful that he knew how to, at the very least, hold the damn thing when taking a photo. "Tilt your head to the side a little? Put your knees together, and push your arms against yourself, but leave your hands on the sofa!"

"Wow, you're really getting into the modeling thing," You chuckled softly, following directions and adjusting your position as per requested. The camera flashed and Simeon repositioned himself. "Turn over,"

_

After adjusting your position multiple times in this little photoshoot, you found yourself bent over the sofa, skirt at your ankles, and Simeon slowly pulling your panties down to your knees. "S-Simeon, I don't think this is necessary!" The angel frowned, gently running a hand over your ass and caressing your lower back, which made you shudder. "Come now, MC. I'll let you photograph my most intimate areas as well if you be good for me." His voice was so sweet, almost as if he wasn't caressing the nakedness of the lower half of your body.

Simeon pulled his hand away, pushing his white pants down with one hand. "Stay just like that, Dove," He murmured softly, swallowing a lump in his throat as he saw your drooling cunt spew more of your essence onto your panties. A shudder sound was heard and you could see the wall glow a bit as the flash went off. Your breathing hitched as you felt your juices running down your thigh, pussy absolutely soaked in anticipation.

You wanted—

No, you needed him to do something. Anything!

Instead, Simeon stood behind you, snapping photos (mainly close-ups of your sopping cunt), while fisting his weeping hard cock. He then paused for a moment, swiping to the record option and hitting the red dot. "Dove," He moaned out softly, reaching out the hand that was getting himself off to gently run his fingers over your slit. You gasped. "What's this, hm? Why are you so wet?" You shook your head, burying your face into one of the pillows on the sofa. "I didn't know you were so perverted, Dove. You're dripping," He cooed, shifting his position so that he pressed the blunt tip against your entrance, precum oozing down to your clit. "W-Wha—?!"

You felt like the air was punched out of you, letting out a sharp gasp as Simeon slammed his entire cock into you in one go, your walls squeezing his length. You cried out, only for the angel behind you to shove your head into the pillow to silence you. "Shhhhh. MC, your voice is so angelic, but I want to hear what this cute little pussy of yours has to say as well," He said, angling the camera to capture how he thrusted his hips forward, cock slamming into you, earning a squelch from your cunt and a whine from your mouth, one that was muffled into the pillow. "There you go," He moaned out softly, moving his hand down to gently caress your ass.

Your walls clenched tightly around him, eyes rolling back as tears started to gather at your lower lash line. You squeezed the pillow in front of you, body jerking forward in protest to his rough fucking. Your vision was going blurry, and it felt like your brain was melting. All you could think of was Simeon and his huge cock that was fucking you into the sofa.

Simeon grasped one of your legs, lifting it and pushing your knee against the couch. This new angle allowed him to shift closer, thrust deeper into you, slamming into the spot that made you scream. "Quiet, MC," He warned softly, one of his hands moving down to circle your throbbing clit.

The stimulation from the bundle of nerves, as well as from his merciless thrusting, was sending you near the edge. "S-Simeon!" You moaned out, hugging the pillow close to your face. "That's it, Dove, let everyone know who's fucking you so good." His voice was so taunting yet so smooth, a sharp contrast to your shaky and slightly raspy voice.

He felt your walls convulse around him, letting out a gasp at how tight you were. "You're close, aren't you, MC?" Simeon stopped himself from leaning forward to kiss you, as that would screw with the camera angle. He chuckled softly. "You're squeezing me so tight, how naughty."

With a muffled cry of his name, you felt him slam into your sweet spot once more, and your orgasm racked through your body harshly, juices gushing out of your cunt, further lubricating his cock. Simeon started thrusting faster, the tip of his length bullying your cervix as he chased his own high, free hand gripping one of your hips tightly. "Gonna cum in you, Dove—" He groaned— "Take it! Take it all! Take all of my cum like a good girl, MC!" He whimpered out, almost begged before he buried himself deep inside of your cunt, moaning as he came. You could feel him filling you up, a white ring of his cum forming just around his cock as he painted your walls and filled you to the brim. He thrusted a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out of you.

Simeon zoomed in on your pussy, that was drooling with his cum, before stopping the video and taking a few pictures.

You turned your head to the side so you could breathe, panting heavily as you tried to gather your thoughts and come back to reality. That was, until you felt something poke against your cheek. You glanced over to see Simeon holding his cock up to your face, looking up to see Simeon holding the D.D.D., camera pointed directly at you.

"You didn't think we were done were you?"

_

Lucifer was in his study, stressed out from the stack of papers that still needed to be signed. He decided to take a short break and scroll through his D.D.D., though he wasn't expecting to get a text from Simeon so late into the night.

With a raised brow, the eldest looked at the notification.

Simeon: 3 attachments

"So he finally learned how to send pictures," The Avatar of Pride mumbled to himself, clicking on the notification before catching his breath in his throat. Lucifer nearly choked at what he saw.

The first picture was of your naked body sprawled out on a bed, a lewd expression on your face, and what he assumed was Simeon's cock balls-deep inside of your cunt. The second picture was of your face in front of the same cock, coated in cum with a dazed look on your face. The third was just of your pussy with cum pouring out of it, streaming down your thighs, as if you'd been stuffed completely full.

Lucifer felt his pants get tighter around the crotch, failing to notice the three dots that indicated Simeon typing.

Simeon: Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know that would send to you!

Simeon: How do I save these to my gallery?

Hope you liked this anon!

Masterlist

[2knightt]

Hi please do more ponyboy x reader I’m begging there’s not a lot :(

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ how you get the girl ⋄ 𓍯

…in which, you find a folded piece of paper in pony’s room labeled, “how you get the girl.”

tags/warnings: established relationship/early stages, reader is shorter than pony, pony’s a FUCKING LOSER, teasing on readers end, reader’s a dickhead (lovingly).

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ this is totally based off of a miles fic i read long ago but the idea has been jammed into my head

—

‘how you get the girl.’

…huh?

you just thought it’d be a silly funny idea to snoop around in his room when he went to bathroom.

of course, since you’re you, you found a piece of paper—you just had to open it!

“step 1. be cool. (WARNING: DO NOT ASK DALLAS FOR HELP!) maybe soda could help? he got sandy. he’s pretty cool.”

yeah. maybe asking dallas for help isn’t the best option when trying to get girls.

is this what he wrote to help ask you out?

this paper seemed old, stains and rips were on every corner and centre of the paper.

“step 2. look cool. maybe steal some of paul newmans looks? maybe darry has some old shirts? (SODA SAID LESS HAIR GREASE.)”

soda was right. he did look better with less grease. you never got why he thought soda was the better looking brother, when pony’s fresh out of the shower and he’s sprawled over the couch, he looks like a greek god.

maybe you’re just whipped.

“what’s that?”

you jumped out of your skin, being quick to hide the paper. you nervously chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“i-uhm,”

ponyboy tilted his head to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of what you’re hiding.

“what’s the paper?”

he looked suspicious of you, his brows were pinched together as he took a few steps toward you.

“just a paper a friend gave me.”

“what’s it say?”

“nothing.”

you unconsciously loosened your grip on the paper, letting it drop to your feet. ponyboy’s eyes followed it, scanning the tears and rips across it before a light bulb flipped in his head.

“where’d you find that? gimmie it!”

“c’mon, pony! lemme finish readin’ it at least!”

“no! it’s embarrassing, y/n! how much have you even read?!”

his face was beet red, and you’re pretty sure he’s never looked more embarrassed in his life until now.

“not that much!”

when ponyboy reached out to grab the paper, you instinctively turned around to cover the paper in hopes that he couldn’t even graze it.

out of desperation, he put an arm around your waist to bring you closer. with you being stunned(shocked because prior to this, he was embarrassed to even hold hands.), pony quickly leaned over your shoulder and grabbed the paper.

“well? where’d ya find it? do you even know how old this is?”

“like, two weeks?”

“i wish.”

ponyboy mumbled under his breath, taking a few steps away from you as he crumbled the paper into a tiny ball. he shoved it into his pocket, presumably to never be seen again.

his blood was cold from the embarrassment, his face being the only thing that was warm. he had a flush across his face to match his body temperature.

pony looked like he wanted to wipe his and your memory to forget about this. however, you’d rather die than ever forget a moment like this.

despite your teasing, you thought it was all sweet. he just wanted to get you—the girl—without looking like a fool.

although, ponyboy being that empty-headed nerd was what made you fall for him. he didn’t know that, though.

the boy seen your expression soften as you had a small smile plastered across your face. before he had time to comment on what just happened or to ask you what’s with the look, you leaned toward him.

a light kiss was pressed against his cheek, giggles filling the room as you pulled away, only to wrap your arms around his neck.

“you’re too cute, y’know.”

you’re lucky ponyboy didn’t short circuit right then and there. sure, he paused for longer than he’d like to admit. but to his credit, he recovered quickly and acted like nothing had happened. like this level of affection was normal in your relationship.

of course, pony had to get used to it. he was gonna be with you the rest of his life if he had anything to do with it.

his arms were around your waist, his chin resting on the crown on your head.

“i would’ve liked you either way, pony. you didn’t have to act cool for that.”

“…seriously?”

“yeah. i think you being a nerd is cute.”

ponyboy was silent for a moment before a snicker escaped his throat. he kissed the top of your head before speaking up.

“i ain’t a nerd.”