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#let me know if you want me to take the ask down
imaginaryf1shots · 2 days
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Starved | Max Verstappen
WC: 1.9K
Max x gf!reader
Summery: Max is touch starved and your love language is physical touch.
Warning: Jos and Christain horner, ilusion to a tough childhood
AN: I just saw a ticktok and I had to write this.
Masterlist
Max Masterlist
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Max never knew how good physical touch is as a love language, he didn't grow up with hugs and gentle touches, none of his past girlfriends were overly touchy with him. That all changed when you came into his life. You grew up smothered in love and affection, and it's how you function, how you show your love. 
Max remembers the moment he realised you're not like his other girlfriends in that aspect.
It was after your first date, and you were having a walk around, neither of you wanting the night to end. Max was telling you a story about something that happened that week, your hands brushing, and he kept thinking if he should take your hand or not. You didn't leave him with a choice.
“-and he ran straight at me, bit I saw him-” Max stops talking when he feels your hand move around his and you lace your fingers through his, he looks at you, and you just smile up at him, leaning closer to his side. Max couldn't help but smile just as bright as yours. “So I dodged and he still bled and fell down, everyone was…”
He kept on talking, you were listening attentively, adding things when needed, and squeezing his hand when you wanted him to look at you. 
Max felt like holding hands with you is the best thing ever. 
But boy was he wrong, because every new tech became his favourite. 
Max never knew he was the cuddling type, until you wrapped yourself around him.
“Oh god.” You whined as Max flipped himself onto the bed beside you, the room filled with your heavy breathing. “That was…”
“Amazing.” Max finishes for you, he turns his head to look at you, even the Formula 1 driver is out of breath but he's smiling nonetheless. You grin at him and turn around placing your head on his shoulder and your arm on his stomach. Max freezes for a second, you press your lips to his skin in a few pecks, making him relax instantly. Max moves you a bit so you're closer with his arms around you. You're both naked with your kin touching his everywhere. You can hear his heart beating fast in his chest and try to not show him your smile. You know why he is the way he is. Without him having to tell you, you picked up on his reactions whenever you touch him affectionately. 
“You don't want to shower, or get dressed?” Max asked you after a moment of silence.
“In a bit, I just want to hold you for a few minutes.” You mumble feeling overly relaxed. Max kisses the top of your head, and lets you hold him while he holds you as long as you want.
Max always thought it's his job as the man in the relationship to have his hand on you in public, show his dominance and all that nonsense. And as much as he just likes having his hands on you, he loves you having your hands all over him. Makes him feel wanted, loved and needed. 
Max is driving you both to a new restaurant that you wanted to try. One hand on the wheel the other on the gear stick. You were looking out the window when you suddenly got the feeling that you want Max closer, want to touch him. So you just move your hand to his thigh.
“Schatje.” Max says and you hum, turning to look at him. “What are you doing?” 
“Just suddenly wanted to be closer to you.” You tell him with a smile.
“I'm right here.” Max glances at you.
“Not close enough.” You say and stay silent for a moment. “Do you not like it?”
You start to move your hand when he stops you with the hand on the gear stick. “I didn't say that, you can touch me whenever you want.”
There are many pictures of you and Max in the paddock or out and about, but more in the paddock. They're all of you lacing your hands with Max, hugging his arms, someone commented once how you're always the first to touch Max, but he never lets go of you. So, to those that tried to hate on you and call you clingy, could never really find anything to hate you for. It’s clear that you’re the instigator but Max’s smile is always undeniable.
“Max, what do you love most about y/n?” Max was signing hats on his way into the paddock, when a fan suddenly asked.
“Her hugs.” The crowd all awed, Max didn’t even realise what he said, it just came out naturally, he loves everything about you, but if there’s one thing that he misses the most and looks forward to when he’s away, it’s your hugs. They feel like home, as cheesy as that may seem.
And hugging you do. You take every chance to pull Max in for hugs.
You’d be eating with the other WAGs or maybe Victoria, and Max would be walking through the paddock and seeing you, he’d walk up to you, and you’d stop everything and give the man a hug as if you didn’t see each other yet that day.
“How’s your day so far?” You ask him, still in his arms.
“Good, how’s yours?”
“Good.” You’d be the first to let go, knowing that if you don’t he’ll never let you go. As much as you want to stay in his arms, he had work to do.
Max would be away on a triple header out of Europe, and you wouldn’t be able to join him for the first race, but no one is surprised when Air Max flies back to Europe and then to the race destination and there’s pictures of you exiting. Max will be damned before he sees you flying in anything but his plane, only the best for you.
You’d get there later than expected, so Max is already on track. His team meets you to give you your passes and get you in. They lead you to where Max is, he’s having a moment break before he has to go to a Red Bull club event thingy in the Red Bull hospitality. Max is on his phone with a Red Bull in his other hand, he looks up when he hears you walk in, he doesn’t see his smiling team behind you, once you’re here everything else ceases to exist.
Max just folds himself around you, he never cares who’s around. Your hand runs up and down his back. Your head in the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in. 
“Hey, my love.” You greet him and kiss his neck softly.
“I missed you schatje.” Max responds to your words and you smile.
“Missed you too, like crazy.” You stand there for a few minutes, everyone knows to just let you have your moments, a much calmer Max is always there thanks to your presence.
There’s a hug that all the fans remember, it went down in the history book for being loving and sad at the same time.
Max has been having a bad time this season, struggling with the car, and not winning, even though he’s leading the points, it’s a very close call. And after 2021 he never hoped to go through such a tough battle again.
Alas here he is, doing the best he could with what he has. Max and Jos have been butting heads lately, mainly because Jos thinks that Max should leave Red Bull and go to Mercedes, while Max wants to stay with Red Bull. The dynamic between the two has always had its highs and lows, and they’re going through a tough low now. So, when Max finally won a race and thus winning the championship, after struggling the majority of the season, and he saw his dad standing in the crowd he was happy. But Jos being the a-hole he is, he wasn’t happy. He didn’t want this race to give Max hope for any future with the team.
Max noticed the look on his father’s face when he was just about to go and hug him, he knew that look, he knew what it meant. And it upsets Max to see it when he’s just won and should be celebrating.
“MAX!” You shout and gain his attention, you’re behind the barrier. Everyone in the team knew what was going on between Max and Jos, and they knew how much having your support no matter what meant for him. So they did not hesitate to raise you over the barrier, you squeal in surprise. The moment your feet touch the ground, Max’s arms are around you, his helmet still on and everything. It’s a much needed hug, it wasn’t you who wrapped your arms around him, it wasn't you that instigated this, this was all Max, he needed this. He’s clutching you, having you flush against him, letting himself feel your presence.
Once he has his arms around you, he's clutching you, holding you close. Your arms wrap tightly around him, the force of the hug, has you staggering slightly back, Max's legs move with yours, until you're stable. 
“Congratulations, my love.” You say, and Max can barely hear you over the noise surrounding the both of you. “I'm so proud of you Max, so incredibly and completely proud of you.”
Max holds you tighter and if it becomes painful he doesn't say. The hug seems to last forever, and everyone just lets you have this moment. You're barely visible from Max's back. Your hand moves over his back slightly trying to give him all the love and comfort he needed. 
“I love you.” The words come out choked up, but you hear them and it breaks you. You force yourself out of his arms and meet his eyes through the slightly opened visor. His eyes are slightly wet. Max doesn't cry, his life was too tough for him to find a reason big enough to cry.
“I love you too Max, more than anything, more than anyone.” You tell him earnestly and full heartedly. 
“Fucking hell, I'll marry you one day.” Max says and his eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles. 
“Well go get your trophy first before we see about the whole marriage thing.” You patt him and Max then goes to his team, they're all shouting and cheering for him.
“You're good for him.” You look to see Christian now standing next to you.
“He's good for me.” You reply and watch your boyfriend with loving eyes.
“I have a feeling that by next season you'll have a ring on your finger.” Christsin whispers in your ear, and he slinks away, you can't help the smile on your face.
You watch as the top 3 do their interviews, Max's face is flushed red, hair messy, and his eyes are a bit misty. Your eyes well up seeing him, Max catches your eyes as he's finishing his interview, the smile on his face widens, he’s looking to the side when the interview ends. And Max races back towards you, your eyes go wide, not expecting him to come back to you. Max pulls you closer and crashes his lips against yours, before you could even place your hands on him, he pulls away, smiles and runs off to the cool down room.
“I take it back, give it a couple of weeks.” Christian amused says, the cameras flashing around you catch your insanely blushing face.
Christian was right, because arriving at the last race of the season, there’s a big rock on your finger.
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tender-rosiey · 3 days
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maybe jelly — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: gojo getting jealous? 👁️👁️
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you arrive at jujutsu high, as you prepare for your guest lecture. you’ve given these talks before, but this time, something feels a little different—satoru is acting strange.
not that he’s ever normal, but today he seems extra…dramatic.
“you’re going to kill it, babe,” satoru says, draping his arm over your shoulders as you walk toward the classroom. his blindfold hides his eyes, but you can feel the intensity of his gaze, more focused than usual.
“you okay?” you ask, glancing at him with a teasing grin. “you seem a little... off.”
“me? off? never,” he replies, lips pulling into his trademark smirk. “just making sure no one gets too cozy with my brilliant wife. gotta make sure these kids remember you’re taken.”
you roll your eyes playfully, “I think everybody and their mother know that, satoru.”
time passes by, and now, you stand at the front of the lecture hall at jujutsu high, wrapping up your talk.
the students seem genuinely engaged, and one in particular, a young sorcerer named ren, is practically bouncing with enthusiasm, asking follow-up questions.
“and how did you manage to seal that curse without any physical confrontation?” ren asks, his voice brimming with admiration and curiosity.
before you could respond, satoru appears at your side with his usual confidence, his presence instantly commanding attention, “well, she is the wife of the gojo satoru. kinda comes with the territory,” he interjects, flashing his signature grin.
you shoot him an exasperated look, “I’m pretty sure my skills had something to do with it.”
satoru leans in close, nuzzling against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly. “oh, of course, sweetheart. you’re amazing, but it doesn’t hurt to be married to the strongest sorcerer around, right?”
ren blinks, clearly caught off guard by the interaction.
he glances between you and satoru, his expression a mix of confusion and awe. “I wasn’t aware you were married,” he mutters, his gaze flickering between you and satoru as if trying to process this new information.
you smile and give satoru a jab into his ribs that he takes like a champ, “yeah, he likes to remind people. it’s kind of his thing.”
satoru, never one to miss an opportunity to make a grand statement, leans down and places a soft kiss on the top of your head.
his arm slips casually around your waist, “just keeping things clear. y'know, in case anyone forgets that I get the honor of calling you mine.”
ren tries to steer the conversation back to his question, “so, about the sealing technique…”
satoru cuts him off again, stepping slightly in front of you with a playful yet firm stance.
“hey, hey, let’s not bombard her with too many questions now. she’s been on her feet alllll day, talking about all the cool stuff she’s done and showing everybody just how badass she is.”
you roll your eyes but can’t suppress a small smile. stepping around him to face ren again, you continue, “ignore him. the technique I used requires focusing on—”
satoru clears his throat dramatically, pulling you back to his side and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, eyes boring into the poor boy even through his blindfold.
“you know what I think? I think my lovely wife deserves a break. maybe some alone time with her handsome, strong, and incredibly talented husband?”
you raise an eyebrow at him, your tone teasing. “handsome and humble, I see.”
satoru’s grin widens, and he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I can be both when it comes to you.”
you are about to retort back, but then you remember that ren is still here.
you turn to the boy with a smile and assure him, “anyway, ren, if you want to chat more about techniques, we can catch up later. after my husband gets over himself,” you hiss at the man who raises his hands in surrender.
ren, now visibly flustered and unsure, mumbled, “uh, I’ll… catch up with you later then. thanks for the talk!”
ren dashes out the room, slamming the door behind him. you tap your feet against the ground for a few minutes, before you elbow satoru again.
he stays standing up, chest puffed out and a big grin plastered on his face. you deadpan as you stare at your husband, “you really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
satoru shrugs nonchalantly, still holding you close. he hums, giving you a kiss on the forehead, “what can I say? I don’t like sharing. besides, you are the wife of the strongest sorcerer; it’s important to make sure that’s clear.”
you roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile helplessly at your husband. your fingers find their way through his hair making him instantly melt. you giggle at your puddle of a husband, “you’re so lucky I love you.”
he tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “I love you more, soooooooooooo—”
“oh my god, I get it,” you laugh as you try to push him off. he resists with a whine as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. you yield and let the silence fill the room.
he hums softly as you both sway mindlessly.
“but y’know,” you pull back slightly, smiling up at him, “you really do like to make an impression.”
he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with a mix of pride and mischief, “just doing my part to ensure everyone knows how lucky I am and how lucky they should feel to be in the presence of my extraordinary wife.”
he intertwines your left hands together and raises them slightly, showing off the rings. the sun makes them shine quite brightly, and it makes you sigh with a smile and satoru let out a huff of laughter.
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paarksunghoon · 2 days
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FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON
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SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.
or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.
NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!
PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).
WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.
***
“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”  
Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away. 
Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well. 
Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation. 
Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.
Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.
“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”
“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”
“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.” 
“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”
“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm. 
“Drive safe.” 
When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long. 
You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.
Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them. 
His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.
Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.  
At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash. 
Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another. 
The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people. 
It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another. 
Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life. 
His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day. 
Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life. 
Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up. 
(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)
Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since. 
The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb. 
You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own. 
The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time. 
I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning. 
Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes. 
Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist. 
Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side. 
“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.” 
You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.” 
“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.” 
“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.” 
“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?” 
“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.” 
The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay. 
“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”
Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft. 
“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this. 
Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.” 
“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh. 
“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.” 
“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position. 
“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you. 
Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.
“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.” 
“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”
“I’m right here.” 
He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him. 
“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”
He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”
“Jay said you were asking for me.” 
“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you. 
“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.” 
“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”
“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist. 
Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door. 
“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys. 
“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off. 
“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car. 
“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp. 
“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling. 
It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile. 
“Need help?”
Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”
Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.
“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”
You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.” 
He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried. 
He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.
“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
“What?” you ask. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”
“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.” 
Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.
“I love you.” 
Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment. 
When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him. 
You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him. 
The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.
“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck. 
“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” 
The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.
He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs. 
Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over. 
You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use. 
“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.” 
You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.” 
He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t. 
“Did you have fun tonight?” 
Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.” 
“Was it any good?”
“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.” 
“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone. 
“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”
“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”
“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.” 
“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face. 
“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”
“And clingy, apparently.” 
Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose. 
While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you. 
Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat. 
He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy. 
“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.” 
“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.” 
Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh. 
“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head. 
“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it. 
“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.” 
“If we wake up early enough.” 
You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.” 
Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep. 
He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.
***
comments and reblogs are appreciated! x
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eirianerisdar · 24 hours
Text
You know if this is Daniel's last race the thing that really gets me is the horseshit management of Red Bull/VCARB
Checo isn't fast enough. You're in danger of losing your constructors. So you decide you're probably going to put Daniel in the Red Bull seat in the summer. You send messages ahead to the next race to tell people not to put up Checo's promotional images.
Not so fast, Checo's sponsors say, so you leave Perez in the seat and give up on the constructors' because it's easier to get money from sponsorship than to cover the constructors'.
You want more points with VCARB, you say. You want more points but you keep effing up both your drivers with strategy and putting upgrades on the car that make them go backwards.
I know what we'll do, you say. We'll leave Daniel out for the wolves in Singapore and tell media that it isn't his last race until oops, it might be. We haven't told him though, so he can't say a proper goodbye if it is. We'll just hand him one last shit strategy and watch as he swallows it and takes fastest lap to help Max's championship. For shits and giggles we'll kill Yuki's strategy too, for fairness.
But if Daniel's gone after Singapore, what will Red Bull/VCARB do?
Let's see here. You have Checo, who went backwards in Singapore and can't help the constructors. You have Yuki, who's fast on track but can't give feedback well and has trouble keeping his emotions down on track. You have Liam, who's all well and deserving of a VCARB seat but won't be ready for Red Bull until a few years later.
You have nobody. You still haven't solved the problem of Max's teammate after six years. You refuse to let go of Checo, who shouldn't have been here after the summer break. You won't ever take the chance and promote Yuki to see if a stint in a senior team will work out for him. You'll have fired your best development and update feedback driver for your secondary team.
Carlos has gone to Williams. George, which Christian mentioned, won't ever leave Mercedes. Oscar and Lando will stay at McLaren. You asked Alex last year, and Alex laughed in your face.
And Max can no longer win the constructors' by himself in the car you give him.
It started in the summer break. Red Bull took a gun and pointed it in their own faces and slowly pulled back the trigger and it was only until now, six races from the end off the season, that we see what the bullet will do.
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mywritersmind · 16 hours
Text
WINNING KISS - LN4
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summary : lando isn’t used to being a human mirror, but when a pretty girls tells him to hunch down and let her fix her lipstick in the reflection of his glasses, he’s more than happy to oblige.
listen up : no warnings!!
word count : 750
⋆。‧˚⋆
I can practically feel the music through my veins. The lights of the club are flashing and my friends are laughing and swinging shots back.
I won today. Singapore has been fucking amazing honestly. Besides the whole drowning in sweat thing.
“So…” Max Fewtrell claps a hand on my shoulder, “Taking a girl home tonight, winner?” He teases me as I roll my eyes and sip my drink, “What- You too tired?” he fakes a frown. I didn’t really want to go out tonight but decided it’s sort of a one in a lifetime thing.
“Go find your girlfriend, idiot.” I eye him.
He throws up his arms and laughs, “Gladly!” As he walks away I feel a hand on my shoulder, spinning me around. I’m surprised who did it had such force for being so small.
A girl stands in front of me, a pencil in hand and for a second I think she’s going to ask for an autograph, “Bend down a bit!” She tugs on my shirt and I do as I'm told because I'm genuinely so confused and the pretty girl means business.
She takes the sunglasses from my head and pushes them over my eyes, looking directly into them and bringing the pencil to her lips.
The ‘pencil’, I now realize, it’s a makeup product and deposits a dark color to her lips as she uses me as her mirror.
As she’s stood in front of me, my eyes can’t help but analyze her. This club is stuffy and smoky but she’s so close I can see everything she has on.
She’s got messy brown hair, silver jewelry, a mini skirt, a fur jacket, and a white corset top. Something about her feels magnetic. She’s stunning.
My eyes go to her lips which she smacks together before pulling out a proper lipstick, as she runs the makeup over her lips I start to smile a bit. She finishes quickly and doesn’t pauses as she starts to place the makeup back in her back.
I slide the glasses down to hang around my neck, I see the recognition appear on her face, “Shit.” She says confidently, “You’re that guy!”
I laugh a bit, standing up straighter and looking down at her, “Nice to meet you too.”
“Sorry! Everyone’s been talking about you today!” My tongue runs over my teeth, smiling a bit, “Thanks for being my mirror. And- congrats, I guess?”
“Thank you. And no problem, I’d never deprive a pretty girl of her lipstick rights.” This makes her laugh and fuck I want to keep her laughing.
She gets a look in her eye, her arms behind her, and her eyes staring up at me, “Well I appreciate it. Like it?” I look at her lips again and I’m beginning to think this is a trick just to make me want to kiss her.
“I do. It suits you.” Her lips pull into a wide smile and she steps a bit closer. “You know- people are talking about me for a reason.” I say, building myself up a bit.
She squints, “Right… A win?” I nod, “You’re celebrating then?”
I nod again, “A bit boring though… if only there was a girl to make my night better.”
She scoffs, “Suppose you want a winning kiss then?” I eye her, sipping my drink once more. My eyes flick to her lips but she doesn’t stop looking at me.
“I mean- your lipstick would look great on me.” I say smugly as she stops herself from smiling, humming and nodding.
“Would it?” She says into my ear, the club getting louder with the music.
“Suppose we’ll have to check and see.” I say in her ear this time and when I pull back, I can tell she’s trying to figure me out.
She hums again, leaning in close and slipping her hand onto my neck. Her cool rings practically sting my hot skin. She turns my head slightly, I feel her stand taller to softly kiss my cheek.
When she pulls away, I’m smirking again, “Let me get your number.” I don’t even ask it as a question.
She pulls the lipliner out of her bag once more, uncapping it with her teeth and taking my arm. She scrolls the numbers slowly against my arm, holding me close.
When she’s done and there’s red numbers up my arm, she closes the product and smiles kindly, saying “Congratulations, winner.” before walking away.
579 notes · View notes
lymtw · 2 days
Text
"Can I try it?"
Toji's voice snaps you out of the heavy focus you have on your reflection as you apply your lip gloss. You twist the cap back on the plastic tube that presents its Rosé colored contents and turn to look at him. "Hm? You want some?" You ask, extending it towards him.
He shakes his head and pushes it back towards you, stepping closer. "Looks better on you, doll. This another flavored one?" He asks, eyeing the sparkling prominence of your lips. You nod, a giddy smile on your face, which only serves to attract his attention to the feature more.
"It's apple flavored," you chirp.
"Ah. You look really pretty, mama," he says, loving the way your face glows with his compliment. You smile before turning back to look in the mirror. "Hold it." His hand goes to your arm. "Let me look at you a little longer."
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"Give me a second. I feel like it's messed up," you say, going into one of your vanity's drawers, where you keep your makeup wipes.
Toji tugs on the back of your shirt, trying to grab your attention. "Put away the wipes and come here. If there's something there, i'll get it."
You sigh, dramatically, closing the drawer before simply turning to look at him, annoyance riddled on your face, because you can feel the excess lip gloss on your skin.
His eyes trail along the area of your mouth, and a grin surfaces on his face when he spots the small, glossy splotch, just below your lips.
"You look silly," he teases, entirely fascinated by the pretty, barely messy sight.
"Thanks," you respond, sarcastically, to which he hums, a wordless, yet, equally sarcastic 'you're welcome'. "You didn't mention it when you first looked at me. A little rude, don't you think?"
His hand reaches for your waist and he pulls you closer to him. Once you're right in front of him, he wraps his arm around your lower back and keeps you pressed flush against him, so he can look down and stare on at your lips.
"Honestly, I didn't even notice until you mentioned it."
You know better than to swoon over the sound of his voice and that longing gaze he has set on you.
"You always say that. It's like you want me to walk around looking like a mess." You crane your neck to look at your vanity, mentally set on wiping the gloss off yourself, because Toji is just staring at the smear.
He's trying not to laugh at how grumpy you are about this. "Ma-" he pauses, a chuckle escaping him. "Just-" He blocks your view of anything other than him. If you turn your head, he follows. "Doll, let me get it for you."
You roll your eyes and begrudgingly look at him, again. "If you're gonna do it, do it, already. This takes a maximum of three seconds, normally."
"Alright, alright. Stop turning away from me," he says, scarred lips still quirked up with amusement. You stand still for him, watching as he brings a hand up to cup your jaw. The gentleness of his touch and the intimate proximity has your heart racing. That and he's taking forever, just staring at your lips. It's a simple swipe of his thumb, what could possibly be taking him so long?
He leans in and juts out his tongue, dragging the tip of it beneath your bottom lip to get the sweet, artificial apple flavor off.
"Ew, Toji!" You snicker, turning away with a laugh. Your hand flies to his chest, creating almost nonexistent distance between you and him.
"What are you saying 'ew' for?" He playfully chides, clicking his tongue. "Face me. Stop moving." You don't even have a chance to turn your head, before he's doing it for you, thick fingers pressing into your jaw to get you to look at him. "You didn't even let me get all of it. Made me smudge it even more, instead."
He's lying. Not about not getting all of it, but about the smudging part. There's barely any lip gloss outside of your lips, anymore. It's the smallest speck, but he'll make it seem like it's messier, just so that he can keep you in front of him for longer, while getting to taste the sweetness of your lips.
"Okay, then get it off. Not with your tongue again. I'll laugh, and this will take much longer than it already is."
"Fine." He smirks, watching the twitch in the corners of your lips as you wait in anticipation for his next move. He leans in, again, and you let out a huff and roll your eyes expecting his tongue, only to be surprised by his lips pressing against the small streak of that sweet, misplaced product on your skin. His quick "cleansing" kisses move up to the corner of your lips and then go higher, before moving along your cupid's bow. Once he's in the middle, he starts going back down, lower and lower until he ends up centering his lips with yours, giving you a proper kiss. It doesn't end with just one kiss. He's picking up every bit of the tacky product on your lips, now, ignoring the fact that he was only supposed to get the excess product. His hands go to your waist, keeping you firmly against him as he carries on with the kisses. He swipes his tongue over your lips, completely clearing them of any sweetness, the gesture causing you to laugh between kisses.
When the supposed tidying came to an end, your lips were wet and shiny, but without a trace of the sweet product that was smothered on them before. Toji watches your flustered expression, mischief lingering in his gaze at your speechlessness.
"It really does taste like apples," he says, earning a deadpan expression from you.
"You overdid it. It's all gone, now." It's hard to stay serious when you see him licking the remnants off his lips. You can see the gears turning in his head, like he's preparing to diffuse your faux irritation.
"No, it's not. You still have some," he says, looking behind you at the practically full tube of lipgloss.
"I can't feel or taste it on my lips, anymore, Toji. What do you mean I still have some?" You say, clearly not thinking the same thing as him.
He takes your hand and drags you over to your vanity. "Put some more on," he says, picking the bright colored tube up and putting it directly in your hand. "Wanna do it, again."
"Toji-" you start, unable to hold in your laugh when you see the random specks of glitter that remain stuck to his lips.
He grins at your the sound of your laughter, before going on to defend himself. "I asked if I could try it, and you offered, so..." He prolongs the word for a couple seconds, unable to find the ending to his sentence.
"So, what?" You prompt, your smile lingering.
"So, I got it indirectly." He smirks. Out of impatience, he takes the tube out of your hand and twists the cap off, before offering it to you, again. "Now, put some more on."
"You're just gonna wipe it off," you argue, shaking your head.
"Only if you mess it up. I can do it for you, if you want. I'm very precise."
He's so eager to do this, that you can't help but sigh and give in. "Fine. You don't have to use so much of it, though. You're precise, but you've also got a heavy hand."
"Yeah, I do," he says, a smug grin on his face. You playfully smack his chest, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself when your laugh slips out at the dirty innuendo.
You stand still, allowing Toji to take your chin between his fingers with one hand, while the other squeezes the tube and brings the lipgloss applicator closer. It makes contact with your lips and he starts spreading it around, evenly. His attention flits between your lips and your gaze, which isn't on him, because having him examine you so closely will lure your giggles out if you focus too hard on it. Toji can see color blooming on your cheeks and feel your skin heating beneath his fingers, so he decides to push it even more.
"This color looks really good on you, doll. One of my favorites. So pretty," he mumbles, as he continues to layer your lips with even more sweetness, definitely more than the necessary amount. You can feel the thickness being dragged back and forth, repeatedly. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want, but if you're wearing this, i'll lean in first, every time. I'll even chase you if I have to." His voice is smooth, like he's hypnotized by how stunning you look while wearing something so simple to apply.
You laugh, unable to contain it any longer, then suddenly, you feel the gloss drag out of your lip line, again.
"Aw, damn. You made me mess up." He picks the cap up off the vanity and covers your lipgloss. You mentally facepalm, and your eyes lid when you look at Toji, who doesn't look the least bit upset about you ruining his masterpiece. "Don't worry, baby. I can clean it up for you."
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writersdrug · 20 hours
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I need, need need neeeeed to know who you would picture bar owner price with 😩 picturing bar owner price has me week in the knees. I need more, how would he be around the bar when he was there? Supporting, bossy,silly? The possibilities are endless. 🥰
I'm loving how people are requesting things for the rest of the 141!!
Bar Owner!Price isn't there every day, and most often not during the actual shift. He's there some mornings, already at his desk on the floor above the pub, setting up the next inventory order and dealing out everyone's tips before Simon climbs down from his flat on the third floor. They both grunt at each other, tired and in need of a hot breakfast and some tea.
He helps set up for the shift - he likes being in the kitchen with Soap. He feels bad the man is back there all by himself, even though he says he doesn't mind it. "I get to cuss 'n bitch all I want back 'ere, sir." Still, Price spends a majority of his time back there with him, prepping burger patties and making sure everything is stocked and ready. Gets on his case about updating the menu, but Soap insists the customers like it the way it is.
Price makes an appearance on the floor every now and then, opting to help run food or bartend on the busier nights. He checks in with the regulars, leaning his forearms on the bar with his sleeves rolled to his elbows, laughing and chatting with them and occasionally offering to refill their drinks. Simon grumbles quietly about him being in the way, but Price doesn't take it to heart.
He doesn't stay late. John isn't that old, but he likes to be back at home by a decent hour. One ruined sleep schedule and he's a shot for the rest of the week. He likes to get back to his flat, make himself a sandwich and pour himself some whiskey, and be on on his sofa and reading his book no later than ten in the evening. Routines have always been a part of his military career, and what can he say? Old habits really fo die hard.
Then you came along.
You didn't just rock Simon's world - you'd gotten Price, too. Though introductions could have been smoother (you nearly beat him with a keg when he came in through the back door and scared you), he's grown fond of you. First, as a hard worker and go-getter; then, as a pretty little waitress with a dazzling smile that likes to keep him on his toes. You love poking fun at him, calling him "bossman" or "barmaster" (doesn't make sense to him, since he's hardly behind the bar - but he finds it cute). You tease him for the way he runs your food, then gets stuck at the table for five minutes just chatting up the customers. You ask him things like, "Who do you prefer, Cardi B or Nicki Minaj?" And laugh when he just stares at you with a furrowed brow. He'll happily let you tease him for being an "old" man just to hear your laughter.
Then Simon sent that photo in the group chat, and Price felt something stir in his chest: looking at you, posing all prettily for your picture, working to push your little idea out there and bring in a crowd. He's impressed, but he's also intrigued. He's got his sights on you, and he's dying to figure out more about his waitress.
"'S the post making any headway?" He asks one night, leaning on the bar next to where you sit. Your tips are finished, money waded into the pocket of your apron as you scroll on your phone, sipping on a screwdriver.
"Kinda..." You mumble, a pout on your face, creasing the skin between your eyebrows. "People are seeing it, and there are a few likes, but no one's really engaging. Not sure if this will do well."
Price hums thoughtfully, looking at your lips while you stare at your screen. He's holding back the urge to lean in and take a whiff of your perfume, afraid it might seem just a bit too strange. "Have you tried promoting it?"
You look at him, laying your phone on the bar top. "Well... I could, but..." You wanted to finish with 'it would cost money'. But then, you'd be insinuating that you expected him to pay you. You could boost the post yourself, but you'd rather not spend money on something that might flop.
"'S there a problem?" Price asked, leaning in closer to you.
"I mean... promoting a post costs some money. Like, for it to be advertised to five hundred people, you'd pay around one fifty. And I think, depending on how far you wanted the post to reach - like, literally, how big of a geographic area - that would cost even more."
Price chuckles. "You do realize how much business you've brought in since you've joined the team, hmm?"
That makes your cheeks warm, pressing your lips into a line to avoid grinning like an idiot at the compliment. "I mean... sure..."
"Go upstairs to the office and get my wallet." he says, standing up from his seat at the bar.
You watch with a stupefied expression as he walks to the POS and prints some blank receipt paper. "You- you mean it? Are you sure?"
He sits on a barstool near the kitchen door. "Wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Hurry up- before I change my mind."
You don't need to be told twice. You drop your phone onto the bar and bolt towards the stairs - you stop yourself, running back to where Price sits and hugging him from behind. He lets out a surprise grunt as you do your best to smother him.
"You're the best boss ever!" you squeal. Then, just like that - you're off to the office upstairs. He preens over the compliment as he hears you leaping two steps at a time.
"Be careful." he calls over his shoulder. He sits there a moment, staring at the paper in front of him. He's surprised he hadn't accidentally thrown you off of him purely out of instinct, but he can't say he isn't absolutely delighted by the hug. It lingers in his mind, his chest still remembering your arms around him. He shakes his head, reaching forward to grab a pen from behind the bar.
His eyes meet Simon's - the man is glaring daggers, his head framed by the window in the kitchen door, mask hanging from his ear. His lips are pulled down into quite possibly the angriest frown Price has ever seen. His nostrils flare as he exhales - Price wonders what sort of insults are flying through the bartender's head right now.
He glares right back. If Simon wants something, he'll give it to him. But he'll make him ask for it, like any normal human being. John isn't going to surrender just because Ghost is huffing and puffing, expecting his boss to back away from you just because he's stomping his foot and looking menacing. But how can he be sure that Simon really wants you, more than he thinks Price deserves you, if the lad won't say anything? It's only reasonable, right?
"If you want something, Simon, say something." Price calls out, never backing down from Simon's jealous gaze.
He huffs again and disappears from the kitchen window. Price can hear shuffling and banging, followed by Soap's irritated voice: "Oi, I got it! Get yourself outta my kitchen n' go your own shite, 'fore you break my stuff."
Price sighs, scribbling down some numbers on the paper in front of him. He'll cave, eventually.
499 notes · View notes
ssweetleaf · 2 days
Text
set phasers to stun.
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summary: joel wants you to sit on his face— you think you’re far too heavy for something like that.
pairing: joel miller x fem!reader
includes: SMUT 18+, face sitting/cunnilingus, dom!joel, i wrote this with an age gap in mind, but it isn’t really specified so make it up girlies, a bit of spanking, slight insecure!reader, pet names (honey, girlie, baby, babygirl, sunshine) a tad of a daddy kink (i’m sorry, it’s me, what do you expect?)
a/n: sorry i’ve been gone again, i’m back in my pedro pascal phase and this just came out of nowhere lol. let me know what you think. dividers credit goes to @saradika-graphics <33
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“Quit your whinin’ and sit the fuck down.”
You were hovering over Joel’s face, thighs twitching and burning from their position, careful not to bump any part of yourself into him— too scared to fully sit yourself upon his face like he had so desperately asked for earlier in the day.
“Joel— m’too heavy,” you muttered, cheeks heating, shifting your weight from knee to knee and hands on the headboard, knuckles whitening from your firm grip.
He lifted a big palm against the cheek of your ass in a sharp, searing slap, quelling your whirring thoughts for just a moment, the burn of his hand print thick and heavy upon the globe of your ass.
“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled, teeth clenched, eyes boring into yours from underneath you and you would’ve frowned at the sight of the protruding pudge of your belly when you looked down, but the constant smoothing of his callused hands against the soft rolls and swells of your body had you stifling it.
“Now listen here, honey,” he huffed, shifting his face to the side to press a few spongy kisses to the thickness of your thighs. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.”
Joel was firm with his words, the low timbre shooting throughout your core and flooding your folds with a surge of arousal.
“Y’gonna take a seat, and y’gonna ride my fuckin’ face till I say you can stop, y’hear?”
“Joel, I—Ow!”
Another spank, on the other cheek this time, but just as hard, the print blooming in the shape of his calluses and the ring on his finger.
“Girlie.” The fond pet name was now a word of warning, almost daring you to disobey him. “Sit, now.”
You swallowed thickly, and with a shaky breath you lowered yourself down, easing onto his handsome face, the broad slope of his nose prominent against your slit, and you gasped at his deep inhale, breathing your scent deep into his lungs, almost savouring it before nudging your clit with the tip of his nose.
Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close once he mouthed a kiss to your pussy lips, teasingly sucking your folds into his eager mouth, careful to avoid your poor, puffy clit and keep you on edge.
“Look at this pretty cunt, hm?” he cooed, gruff and thick, muffled slightly from between your thighs and beneath your soft belly. “She’s been beggin’ for this, baby and you’ve been keeping her from me.”
His tongue peeked out from between his lips, swiping a long, fat stripe from your slick, fluttering hole, to the engorged jewel of your clit.
“Oh!” You whined, threading your fingers through his thick curls, tugging slightly once his lips enveloped your pearl, suckling it into his mouth, humming into your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your cunt and you moaned out at the feeling. “Joel, fuck.”
He pulled back only slightly, brow raised and eyes dark and glistening— a big palm squeezed at the fat of your ass. A little warning.
“Language.” he clicked his tongue, turning to nuzzle into the thickness of your thigh, biting into it with dull molars and sharp canines, urging another wave of slick to surge your poor cunt.
“S-sorry!” You squeaked out, nails scratching against his scalp the way he liked as a little apology. “Keep going, please.”
You could feel his smirk against your flesh, tongue swiping at the marks he bit and sucked into the sensitive skin of your thighs.
“There she is,” he hummed, “now ya beggin’ for it, aren’t ya, baby? Knew you’d come around some time.”
Joel dove back into your cunt, lapping crudely at your hole, picking up silver strings of arousal on his tongue before lolling it over your peaked clit— smacking kisses to it, practically making out with your poor pussy whilst humming happily into your heat.
“Just needed some persuadin’, huh, sunshine?” he spoke into your pussy, voice muffled and barely legible through your hazy brain. “Just needed your ol’ man to eat this pretty pussy from down here, didn’t ya, babygirl?”
You cried out, nodding profusely at his filthy words and personification of your cunt, tears ebbing at your waterline and slowly easing over.
“Been havin’ so much trouble with my damn back— just layin’ here while you ride my face is so much better, sugar.”
Knowing your man wasn’t in pain, that his usual achy back and knees were quelled and sated by his current position, instead of the place he so often took between your legs with a hunched back and sore knees, had you relaxing somewhat.
‘Makin’ y’daddy a happy man, baby,” he groaned, fisting at the fat of your hips, leaving you tight and secure against his face. “fuckin’ dripping down my throat.”
You could feel the tightening in your belly, coiling throughout your insides, warming you up and leaving you panting, fisting at any part of him you could find.
“J-Joel,” you panted, chest heaving up and down, up and down, nails in his scalp, in his shoulder blades, even reaching behind you at his thighs. “so close.”
Your speech was clipped, lips stuttering and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.
“Ah ah,” he shook his head, lips still suckling at your clit after every other word. “None of that, you ask for daddy’s permission— you know what to do.”
You whined again, long and drawn out, bucking your hips and huffing out— there was a warmth upon your cheeks that blossomed, creeping down your neck and teasing the tips of your ears, all shy now when asking your man to cum.
“Please, Joel,” you sighed out, thighs squeezing at his ears, clamping him tight underneath you. “can I cum? Pretty please?”
“Please, what?” He huffed, gruff and quick, tongue lolling and rolling over your spit-slick clit before thrusting the pink muscle into your quivering hole. “Ain’t got all day, hon.”
“Daddy— please, daddy! Need’a cum.”
“Atta girl, such nice manners— taught you good, baby girl. Cum f’me.”
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455 notes · View notes
luveline · 2 days
Note
if it’s at all possible, i’m requesting the fluffiest, giggliest fic with poly!marauders where reader is just sad and teary so they get in a big cuddle pile and tickle her and kiss her until she’s a giggly mess and all cheered up 🥹 thank you lovely jade!! <3
ty for requesting angel! fem, 1.1k
You watch yourself in the mirror. At your vanity, a cotton pad soaked in toner in hand. You wash down your face gently, your eyes hot and heavy and waiting to fill with tears. 
Maybe it’s because it’s Sirius who’s sitting on your bed that you end up crying. It’s hard to explain why it makes a difference, why he’s the one out of everyone who you can’t hide from when you’re sad. It’s not as though James or Remus are any less understanding than he is. James is the most generous person you’ve ever met, he’d let you cry into his arms for days on end without complaint, and Remus understands better than most what it is to be in pain, but Sirius won’t make you talk about it. When you’re feeling better, you’ll realise that it’s the complete lack of pressure to confront your feelings that brings them to the surface. Sirius won’t ask you to explain yourself. 
The tears fall down in discordant waves. One from the left, two from the right. Your nose grows hot, an uncomfortable wetness gathering at the back of your throat. 
You put your cotton pad aside, sniffling. 
“You okay, my angel?” Sirius asks, turning another page of his novel. 
You take a shaky breath. “Yeah,” you say, voice thick with tears. 
“You don’t sound okay.” You watch in the mirror as he puts his book down. He stands up quickly, and you’re presented with how good looking he is. Even through tears, he looks pretty. “What’s wrong?” 
You bend in on yourself, pressing your fingers to your eyes. “It’s nothing.” 
His hand falls against your shoulder, warm, the other not far behind. He leans on your back. “Come on, sweet girl,” he whispers, “don’t cry by yourself. Come to bed with me.” 
He doesn’t push you. You knew he wouldn’t. 
You let him usher you into the bed, where he sits with crossed legs and you fall into his chest. Your shoulders ache with your crying, shaking as the tears turn to sobs. You think about everything too much. And, despite the best intentions, Sirius’ gentle patting and hugging makes you cry harder. 
It’s a quiet house. The sound of your breakdown attracts another boy. He climbs into bed in front of you both. You know it’s Remus because James’ would’ve exclaimed in fear at the door, his hand tentative on your thigh. “Is everything alright?” he asks softly. 
“She’s okay, just a rough day,” Sirius says. 
It isn’t a lie. You wrap your arms around his waist like a clamp and lay there, face slipping down against his stomach, all bent and hurting as tears soak his dark t-shirt. 
“Really rough, it must’ve been,” Remus says. He rubs your thigh. “It’ll be okay. We’re here.” 
That makes you cry worse, too, but eventually the sentiment is driven home. No matter how bad the day is, or what happens to you, you’ll always have people to come home to who love you, and who want to rub your back for you when you can’t calm down. 
Remus pats your leg in a rhythm. Sirius stays very still. They both, somehow, know what you need. 
A little later, you lay with your face pressed to Sirius’ chest just shy of his armpit, Remus’ patting turned to light tickling, his voice a low constant. “You’re just so beautiful it intimidates people, that’s your problem, dovey, you’re scary because you’re that pretty. You think I’m blowing smoke, but I’m serious, and Sirius agrees with me, and James would get down on his knees right here and now and testify to that same thing.” His hand slides between the soft upper insides of your thighs to squeeze one reverently. “Everyone is jealous of you.” 
“Stop it,” you mumble. 
“She’s smiling,” Sirius says, drawing a loop behind your ear. 
“Stop.” 
“Everyone is jealous of me,” Remus furthers, “at Books and Coco, whenever you come with me, the boy behind the counter always gives me that stupid chauvinistic look like I’ve done some great service to men-kind in landing you.” Remus leans down to kiss your leg. “And it’s silly that he gives me that look, but his sentiment isn’t wrong. I can’t say I landed you, but I am lucky.” 
“Stop,” you say again, laughing as his breath further tickles your leg. 
The door to the bedroom clatters open. You jump, having not heard the front door, but Sirius rubs your arm and you quickly calm. After all, it’s James coming in. He’s far from scary. 
“Hello,” he says, a little breathless, “you guys wouldn’t believe the photo I just took at the pond. The sun was setting and there were all these colours coming through the trees and over the water.” He gives you a funny look. “Have you been crying?” 
“Just a bit,” Sirius says gently, hugging you a half inch closer, “she’s alright now.” 
James frowns. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.” 
“It’s okay,” Sirius answers for you. To some, his speaking for you might irk them, but right now it’s exactly what you need. It’s less embarrassing to have him talk for you. “Remus has praised her half to death, and he keeps tickling us both.” 
“Oh, you’re tickling him too?” you ask. 
Remus squints at you. “Well, just a little bit.” 
You put upon a forlorn sigh. “I’m not as special as I thought.” 
“Sweetheart, you are the most special,” James says, climbing into the bed, making you the centre of their flower, “you’re gorgeous. Let’s have a kiss.” 
“That’s what I said,” Remus says, laughing as you lean away from James’ kiss, even as big hands find your cheeks to hold your face. 
“Come on, lovely girl, just give me a kiss so I know you’re alright,” James says. 
You evade to tease him. You can’t help laughing as you turn your head one way and then the other, quick to dodge him, his lips pressing half kisses against whatever bit of skin he can as you move. 
“This is harassment!” you laugh. 
“Just one kiss…” He holds your face steady, and he looks at you long and hard. When you move your chin up to kiss him, he moves away. “You’re okay?” he asks softly. 
“I’m fine,” you laugh, kissing him quickly. 
James collapses atop you, all his weight and smells. “Thank god for that.” 
“Well, thank Sirius,” Remus says, “he did all the back-rubbing.” 
Sirius groans and tries to get out from under you. “You’re all very heavy.” 
“James? Can I see your photo?” you ask. 
He squeezes you half to death in answer. 
540 notes · View notes
p4ranormaluv · 2 days
Text
HER
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you wouldn’t have guessed you’d end up getting eaten out by your boyfriend in the basement of a house party, but jake just looks too sexy when he’s high— you can’t resist.
pairings) jake x f!reader
genre) smut
contents) established relationship, house party, jake’s horny af from the start, drug/alcohol use, shotgunning [weed], petnames: angel/baby, making out, a little exhibitionism, light d/s dynamics: m.dom/f.sub, dry humping, face sitting, fingering, praise, [ft. other enha members]
wc) 2.3k
note) hope this gives chase atlantic vibes.
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you hop into jake’s car and shut the door behind you in one fluid motion, looking over to your boyfriend as he smirks at you, taking you in with one hand on the steering wheel, the other moving to squeeze your thigh like he always does.
“hey, angel. you look sexy.” he smiles with heavy set eyes. his gaze tries to stay at your face, but they keep flicking back down to your body in the tight, black party dress you’re wearing, barely covering your hips.
jake leans over to press a kiss to your lips that he quickly slips his tongue into, and when your insides start fluttering and jake starts huffing between kisses— you know you need to push him away, or you won’t end up going to the party he’s meant to be driving you to at all.
“down boy.” you giggle after pushing him by his chest, him still staring at your lips and how they move as you speak.
“jake!”
“s— sorry! sorry, baby.” he refocuses, head shaking for a moment as he seems to come back to reality. “you ready to go?”
“yes, jakey.” you say with a faux exhausted tone, fond smile giving your true emotions away.
“i know you love it” jake teases, lifting a cocky brow almost to himself as he takes the car out of park and begins to drive forward.
and yeah, you do love it.
but his ego doesn’t need to hear you say that out loud.
(❤︎)
the large house is packed with people like a can of sardines, the heat of bodies and the smell of alcohol strong as the music reverberates through the floor. the lighting is mostly dark other than a few flashing lights.
jake holds your hand or is glued to your ass practically the entire time you’re there, not wanting to lose you and feeling over protective— as he always does at these parties. he trusts you, he just doesn’t want some douche harassing you or not knowing where you are in such a big crowd like this. he’d worry you’d get hurt.
you’re both currently in the kitchen talking to jay and heeseung, you nursing a red solo cup that jake takes sips from occasionally as well.
jake’s leaning back on the counter with a hand on your waist, keeping you against him. he gently grabs your wrist, bringing the cup towards his mouth.
you look over your shoulder at him, meeting him halfway and tilting the cup down for him to drink. he squeezes your waist to signal he’s done, smiling at you sweetly in thanks and giving you a kiss.
there’s a lull in the conversation when jay asks heeseung if he knows where ‘the good stuff’ is— and you’re assuming he’s asking for harder liquor (knowing jay) when heeseung leads him out of the kitchen.
you’re apparently the only one paying attention to this ordeal as jake’s suddenly groping your ass through your dress, pressing his groin into you and making sure you feel his hard on.
“jake…” you say in warning, but he recognizes the arousal in your tone, which sounds weak in its resolve.
“babyyy~, im so hard for you.” he whines sexily, voice husky as he starts pressing kisses to your neck, grinding his hips into you. “can we please find a bedroom?”
“can we participate in the party for at least a little bit longer?” you giggle, definitely not opposed to the idea, but you want to mingle more.
jake groans dramatically, separating his lips from the small nibbles he was giving your exposed shoulder to press his face into the crook of your neck. “you’re so mean to me, wearing this sexy ass dress with such easy access and not even letting me fuck you in it.”
“i will. just not right now.” you promise with a teasing smile, biting your lip as you look at him over your shoulder again. jake thinks you look way too sexy at this angle.
“god, you’re killing me.”
(❤︎)
turns out ‘the good stuff’ is weed. jay and heeseung come back a few minutes later to lead you and jake to the basement of the house, opening a random door that descends down into stairs.
heeseung flicks the lights on and led strips light up along the ceiling, casting the room in slowly changing colors.
“are we supposed to be down here?” jake asks, looking around as you walk to the couch together hand in hand.
“i don’t think jungwon minds. i locked the door so the whole party doesn’t follow us down here.” heeseung answers, letting you two take the couch as he and jay sit on nearby chairs, a coffee table connecting you all in the center.
the boys don’t take long to start things up, the room filling with the faint smell of weed as jake takes a few hits. you don’t really feel like it, other than breathing in the second hand smoke. but when jake takes another puff, passing the blunt over to jay and then leaning over to cup your jaw, looking at you with eyes that ask for permission, you lean closer.
parting your lips, you suck in the gray smoke jake slowly exhales out, pretty nose brushing against yours as he looks down at your lips. once you’ve taken the hit, jake practically crashes his lips into yours. you finally start to give in to that feeling in your stomach— far from immune to jake’s charms and flirting he’s been directing to you all night.
jake bites softly on your bottom lip, smiling at your almost silent gasp from the action and how you press your lips back on him, eager for more as you get lost in his kiss.
its when you start sucking on jake’s tongue that’s inside your mouth and he lets out a groan that jay and heeseung finally say something, awkwardly standing up from their chairs at the same time.
“um, maybe we should— uh,” jay struggles, trying and failing to think of an excuse to leave.
“beer.” heeseung says stiffly, already frantically jogging up the stairs as jay rushes to follow him.
“we’ll get more beer.”
you press a hand to your face, giggling in thorough embarrassment at how you lost yourself so easily to jake’s lips that you forgot about your two friends being in the room.
“oh my god, we’re that couple.” you cringe.
“it’s fine, they’ll get over it.” jake chuckles, grabbing your hand to remove it from your face.
when you look at jake again you see how his eyes are slightly red and heavy lidded, fluffy hair tousled and lips red from making out, looking as plush as ever.
you’re not sure if jake doesn’t notice or ignores how you stare at him while biting your lip, finding him incredibly hot and irresistible right now as he reaches over to grab the abandoned blunt that sits on the coffee table.
“wanna do one more with me?”
“kay.” you reply softly, finding your voice compromised, either by the smoke or your arousal and distraction from the sexy man in front of you— who you’re lucky enough to call your boyfriend.
this time when jake takes a drag, you surprise him when you abruptly move to sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. he recovers quickly as he puts his hands on either sides of your waist possessively, pulling you closer while you breath in his smoke.
you whine before crashing your lips to his, trying to lick into his mouth as jake irritatingly keeps them pressed closed.
“what happened to ‘participating’ in the party?” he giggles, trying to dodge your incessant attempted kisses.
“what happened to your hard on?” you mock, moving your hand between you to grope his bulge. jake fails to suppress a moan as his eyes squeeze shut. “oh wait, it’s still here.”
“stop— stop bullying me.” jake pouts after recovering, trying to give you his signature puppy eyes. it doesn’t have the same vibes when his eyes are glassy and blushed from being stoned, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have an effect on you.
you smirk at his indirect apology as jake leans back into your lips again, continuing your make out session. your little black dress is forced to ride up in this position, jake letting out a soft moan as his hands that were feeling up your thighs brush over the exposed lace waistband of your panties. you grind down, getting wetter and wetter as you and jake lazily hump on each other while your tongues explore the other’s mouth.
you let out the sweetest sound that has jake’s hips bucking, pressing your tits into his chest as you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. jake separates one of his hands that was previously fondling your ass beneath your dress to take a handful of your covered breast that’s beginning to spill out of the top, kneeding it in his veiny hand.
“baby…wanna kiss you.” he whispers against you.
“you already are, jake. are you that high?” you say impatiently, not wanting to separate from his lips to speak.
“not these lips,” jake says lowly, kissing your mouth for emphasis before his hand slowly trails down from your breast to between your legs, fingers gently feeling over your covered pussy. “these ones.”
oh.
it’s like a switch has flipped, hands grabbing anywhere at jake as desperate begs of “yes”, “now?” and “please” come from your mouth.
jake hurries to lower himself and lay down against the couch, hands never leaving your waist until he tells you to take your panties off. he groans as he watches you stand and slide them down your sexy legs, snatching them from your hands the second they’re off and shoving them into his back pocket.
“sit on my face, angel.” jake coos as you’re quick to obey, straddling his head.
jake sighs at the beautiful sight of your bare pussy hovering over him, glistening in arousal. he slides his hands up your thighs to push up your dress, then he’s guiding you to lower down.
you feel your core meeting jake’s lips, whimpering as jake parts them to give you a fleeting lick.
“jakey, please don’t tease me.” you whine.
“naughty girl,” his hot breath fans against you. “you do realize the door is unlocked, right, baby?”
your stomach flips as your struck with realization. the basement door locks from the inside. when jay and heeseung left, they couldn’t lock it behind them, leaving the possibility of anyone to come in and see you sitting on jake’s face in the middle of the room.
it’s at this moment that jake takes a tighter grip on your hips and pulls you down roughly to force all your weight onto his face, eating you out passionately. you gasp, hands moving to grip the arm rest of the couch that’s right above jake’s head.
your slight buzz has you feeling more sensitive. every time jake sucks your clit between his puffy lips and warm mouth, your thighs clench around his head— causing jake to moan loudly and go that much harder on you.
“baby— baby! fuck!” you cry, starting to roll your hips against his face.
jake feels like he’s about to lose his mind. you’re so fucking sexy and your grinding your pussy against his face. something about your juices taste even sweeter tonight, and he finds himself unable to get enough.
he keeps his mouth on your pussy, one of his long, thick fingers starting to slowly push inside your entrance.
you whine out, rolling your hips more firmly and gasping as jake’s pretty nose bumps against your clit perfectly.
it doesn’t take long for jake to press a second finger inside your needy pussy, your noises becoming more frequent as he can tell your getting close.
“my dirty little angel. you like riding my face, baby? where anyone could walk in and see?”
you can only hum out an agreeing sound, nodding your head as your eyes squeeze shut while jake starts pumping his fingers in and out. wet noises resound in the room, jake looking up at your pretty expression and how the led’s cast a pretty red glow across your skin, fading to purple a moment later.
“you like that don’t you? pussy’s so wet.”
jake can only marvel at you for a little more before he’s nestling back inbetween your legs again.
he switches between flattening his tongue against you and stiffening it to part your pussy and circle around your clit. that combined with his fingers that are so much bigger than yours, curving just right and finding that little spot inside you that has your thighs quivering— you’re deduced to nothing but high pitched whimpers and a melted brain— needing to cum.
“close, baby? need it?”
“please,” you find yourself barely able to get out, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth, brain foggy and overwhelmed with the heightened pleasure. “please let me cum.”
“go ahead, angel girl. get it all over my face.”
the band in your tummy snaps as you finally let go, your hands frantically moving to find purchase in jake’s hair as you pull on his locks, pushing his face deeper into your pussy.
jake loves it, moaning into your cunt as he drinks you up and lets your trembling hips smear it all over his face.
your orgasm lasts a while until you finally finish and move down off his face shakily to straddle his stomach instead, chest heaving as you catch your breath.
when you finally look up it’s like jake was waiting for you to, eyes still heavy lidded as he takes his dripping fingers and sucks them into his mouth, cleaning up all your juices from them while his chin and lips still glisten with the rest of your essence.
“my turn?”
jake smirks as he’s sitting up and pulling his pants down— and you don’t need any convincing as you lay down on your back and spread your legs for him.
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note) this was supposed to be a quickie to tie yall over while i’m working on my october works but it ended up longer than intended.
664 notes · View notes
entitled-fangirl · 1 day
Text
Meek.
Cregan Stark x Baratheon!reader
Summary: Cregan is determined to be a different man for his betrothed than the men in her family.
Warnings: poor treatment of women, sexism, cursing, talks of sex, making out
A/N: Based on TWO asks!!!! Also--- not proofread😯
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Everyone knew the absolute torment that house Baratheon put their women through.
They were cruel to them, not caring for anything but their own pleasure. That was well known.
When Cregan was betrothed to Lord Baratheon's second eldest daughter, he wondered how she'd fair under the Northern weather.
Lord Baratheon didn't even bother to see her go, sending her off to the Wolf with just her handmaidens and guards to see her safe to Winterfell.
Cregan stood at the doors, his shoulders back in a display of northern pride. He was beyond grateful to rid the sweet woman from the ungrateful Baratheons.
The moment her horse stepped through the gate, his people were attentive to her, taking her belongings and beginning to carry them into the castle.
She watched them with widened eyes, confused by their kindness. Cregan quickly stepped down the stairs to her, "Welcome, my lady."
Her head snapped to him and looked down at him from her horse. She said nothing in fear of saying the wrong thing.
He reached up and gently pulled the reigns from her hands. The leather slid from her grasp slowly. She dared not to intervene. 
Once he had the reigns in his hand, he pulled on them, walking the horse further into the yard and closer to Winterfell.
She merely let him as she held to the saddle. 
Cregan felt a small smile grow on his face. She was a curious thing. It was too bad she wouldn't voice her thoughts. 
As he looked up at her, he decided then to change that. He would get her to open up one day.
He tied the reigns off and held out his hand to her. "Let me help you." She reminded him of a skittish doe, ready to run at any sign of danger.
Her shaky hand reached out, and she swung her leg over the horse. She stared at him expectantly.
He let go and grabbed her waist, holding her as he slid her down the horse's side and placed her on the ground.
"Thank you, Lord Stark," her soft voice finally spoke.
He swore he'd never heard anything sweeter.
How the Baratheons could bare to mistreat her, he'll never know.
He told the North that he was in no way going to rush the marriage. So she stayed in the Winterfell walls unwed so he could understand her more before becoming one.
He felt like he owed her that. 
She deserved to be known. 
She had become a little more comfortable around him, beginning to slowly speak to him about only the things that were essential to say aloud.
The two walked the grounds together, a routine they had developed over time. 
"I wish you'd speak about things that don't matter," he finally mentioned. He peeked over to her to see her reaction.
Her brows furrowed as she stared in front of her, "I don't understand."
"I didn't mean it in that sense I suppose." He reached up with his free to stroke the hair on his chin in thought of what to say. "I want to know the things that you worry I'll find unimportant. Does that make sense?"
She hesitantly shook her head.
He sighed softly at how to correct his words. Finally, he shrugged. "I want to know you."
"You do," she countered quietly. 
"I don't," he smiles as he brushed hair behind her ear, "but I'd like to."
She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch to her face. The men in her family were far from this gentle. "I assure you there is nothing of interest to me."
"There is, I'm sure. I'll find it."
She nodded, "Whatever you wish, my lord." She began to walk again.
He pulled her back, "Not so quickly." He reached down and pulled both of her hands into his. "Don't say what you wish me to hear. Say what you are thinking."
"Why would I do that?" She asked innocently. 
He cursed under his breath but didn't let her see the way his jaw clenched. "It matters to me. Your thoughts, I mean."
She stared at their intertwined hands, "Even the unpleasant ones?"
"Especially the unpleasant ones."
It was a strange concept for her, but she nodded as her brain began to truly consider what he was asking for. 
He smiled in relief, still holding one hand and beginning to walk again. "Let us start with simple matters. Perhaps… your favorite novel?"
Her head snapped to him, "I don't… I…"
His thumb rubbed over her knuckles, "I know you have one. I've seen the way book pages soak you in like water."
The question had been a sensitive one. She shrugged in a fake nonchalant fashion and kept walking, "I don't have one."
He hummed lowly, a small warning. "Don't lie. Just say what it is."
"I… I don't remember the name of it," she finally admitted. 
He accepted that answer. "I see. What was it about?"
Her big eyes looked up at him, debating what to say. "It was… a fiction."
He smiled, "I see. There can be enjoyment in fictional novels, can't there?" He waited to say what else she would say. Each new piece of herself she revealed to him, he treasured like a precious stone.
"Well… it is the only one I've read, I'm afraid," she smiled weakly, eager to change the subject.
"The only?" He asked in pure shock. "The only one?"
She nodded, keeping in a certain side of herself. "It was left behind. Father has it."
"Ah," he said finally. 
That evening, he wrote to Lord Baratheon, urging him to send her favorite book. He was straight to the point, telling the man he could send the novel to earn Stark's forgiveness for avoiding the wedding.
A few weeks later, a letter arrived addressed to Lord Stark. He almost ripped it out of the maester's hand in concern when he saw the Baratheon sigil in the wax. It was a thick roll, only making his concern spike.
He pulled it open, revealing a few pages that fell from his hand. 
Book pages.
Ripped book pages. 
He picked up one with a shaking hand. He began to see red as he looked back up at the maester. "What is the meaning of this?"
The maester held out his hand, "Allow me to read this for you, my lord."
Cregan handed the letter to him as he began to gather the few book pages that were sent to him.
The maester's face turned white. "He dares to disrespect you."
"Do not tell me these are what I believe them to be," he growled lowly.
"I'm afraid they are."
Cregan's hand slammed the papers onto the desk in pure rage and stormed out of the room.
Cregan swung his sword with a fury. His sparring partner could hardly keep up, but he knew his Lord just needed to get out his anger.
His partner was grateful when Cregan's betrothed interrupted them.
"Cregan?"
Cregan faltered, freezing in place and turning his head to her. "Yes?" He asked with a surprisingly soft voice.
She wrung her hands nervously. "I… Forgive me. I shouldn't have interrupted."
He stood up tall, handing his sword off to his partner and waving him off. "No. Please. Tell me what you need."
She hummed and let out a deep breath. "I've been thinking."
He nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Aye…"
"I'm ready to marry you."
He sucked in a sharp breath. "What?"
"I- I want to marry you, Cregan."
He saw the absolute nervousness that radiated through her frame to admit that to him.
He stepped to her, "You're sure?"
She nodded. "If you still want me."
He stepped further to her in urgency, "Of course, I do. Never think that I wouldn't."
She stared at him, now unsure of where to go from there.
Cregan smiled. "Shall I set a date for the wedding then?"
Her eyes lit up. "Would you?"
"I would. And I shall. We shall have it two weeks before Winter strikes. I will leave for the Wall not long after. Would that suffice?"
She looked down at her hands. 
"What?" He tilted his head down, hoping to get her to look at him. "Did you wish for after winter? That could be quite a while."
She had worked herself up just to admit wanting to marry him. How could he expect her to do more?
"Talk to me, pretty girl."
She'd never been called that before. It made something inside of her stir. 
"It's so far," she whispered.
He felt a chill down his spine at her small confession. He gulped as the anger left him completely. "Sooner then?"
"Sooner."
He nodded, biting his lower lip in deep thought. "Aye. Soon then."
A bright smile pulled at her lips. "Thank you, Cregan."
He grinned back. "Of course. Now, go on," he tutted playfully, "Your betrothed must finish his spar."
Red came to her cheeks, "Right. Right, of course. Excuse me, Lord Stark-"
"-Cregan," he quickly corrected.
"Cregan."
He watched her leave. There was a slight skip to her step now that he hadn't noticed about her before. 
Perhaps she was finding happiness in Winterfell.
The wedding was a large northern celebration. The bannermen and families came  from miles around to witness their Warden's wedding.
Everyone was too kind. It was beginning to worry her.
"Quite the feast, I'd say," Cregan smiled at her as the two sat at the high table. 
Her hands immediately reached for her chalice of wine.
And she didn't stop for the entire night.
"Let us retire," he suggested when she tried to refill her cup again. His hand reached out and gently placed it over hers. "It is getting late. And before you fret, the bedding ceremony will not happen. It is only you and I."
Her eyes softened in surprise, not expecting him to say that. "One more glass for courage?" She slurred slightly.
His brows ticked down for only a second before he composed himself. "Courage isn't needed for this. Are you truly this nervous?"
"I'm perfectly content," she huffed. 
The crease between his brows returned. That was uncharacteristic of her to speak in frustration. Had the wine affected her? "Then let us go, hmm?"
She nodded, setting her cup down. "Very well."
He stood, offering his hand out to her. She took it and stood, trying to hide the slight falter in her first step. She moved her hand up to his bicep, letting him lead her from the banquet hall.
Entering their chambers, she sat on the bed. "Will you have me on my back or shall you take me from behind?" She asked bluntly, no hint of embarrassment or hesitation to her.
Cregan hand on the doorknob faltered. He locked the door and turned to her with shock on his face, "What was that?"
"Which way do you fuck, Lord Stark?" She asked in the same tone.
He shook his head with an amused chuckle. He stepped to her, reaching down and pushing her chin up to look at him. "I will not be fucking you tonight." He watched her posture change, a relaxation coming to her. "Why would you ask something so crude? It's unlike you."
"You wanted me to speak my mind, and I have," She stated in frustration. 
"You certainly have," he commented. "But I have a feeling that the wine is twisting your words. Tell me why you indulged in so much wine tonight."
She shrugged, "Why do you care?"
He gently pulled her chin back up, "I care about you."
"There it is." Her nose twitched. "I don't know what to do when you say things like that."
He stood straight, "You didn't answer the question."
"Fine!" She stood up and stepped around him, "I drank so much because I have never known a man to be as kind as you and it frightens me."
"Frightens you? How so?" Cregan was beyond confused. He turned to watch her.
She stepped to the fireplace and buried her hands in her hair in frustration. "I've never wanted to speak my mind to anyone until I met you, and now I fear I'll say something I shouldn't and ruin it all. Do you know what that feels like? To know that one wrong word could send you back to…" Her voice faded off. 
"I don't. And neither do you, because regardless of your words, I'm not going to send you back there. You're a Stark. The Baratheons are only a name now- if you want them to be, that is. If you want to truly be a Stark in name and heart." He offered. His calculating eyes watched her closely now, frowning at the tugging of her hair.
"Even after I've indulged myself in wine and ruined our wedding to the point that you refuse to consummate the marriage with me?" She turned to him and only then did he see the glimmer of the tears that sat in her eyes. 
"You did not ruin anything. But I will not sleep with you as long as you are not fully aware of your actions."
"I am aware," she huffed.
"We shall see in the morning." The slightest amused smile come over him. "I promised to take you to bed one way or the other. Perhaps tonight, it is only to sleep and nothing more." He walked to her. "Turn around. Let me undo your laces, stubborn woman."
She did as he asked, pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Will I regret this tomorrow?"
"The marriage or this particular conversation?" He asked. "If it has to be one, I hope it is the latter. I personally enjoy the former."
She hummed, pulling her outer dress down once Cregan had untied it enough. Layer by layer, she threw each piece to the cloth chair not far from the fire. 
Cregan's careful hands untied each string they came across. 
Silence filled the room, and she broke it with a small sniffle. Her voice was much softer now, "Do you believe my father didn't want to be here? Is that something you believe?"
Of course, he believed it, but he wouldn't say it. "I'm not sure. Do you, sweet girl?"
She hummed, "I do."
That surprised him. "Ah. Do continue speaking your mind, please. Do not let me stop you."
"He has a particular hatred for women. I'm not sure where it started. When he had a firstborn daughter rather than son, my mother was fearful for the girl. I was second. He married us off without a second thought. Dare I admit to you that he signed me away to you without truly reading the document?"
Cregan placed his hands on her clothed hips and spun her to face him.
No wonder she came here so fearful. She was mistreated from the beginning. He stared into her eyes for a moment, letting the silence settle. He reached up and brushed his fingers on her cheek. "How could a man ever hate you?" He asked with a barely heard voice.
Her heart jolted, "I have never felt love before. Is it supposed to feel this warm?"
Cregan let out a joyful laugh as he ran his hands through her hair. "I want to say yes, but you're near the fire. And the wine is coloring your cheeks. We shall revisit this when you are well. Let us get you to bed."
"Bed? Right." She pulled herself from him and moved to the bed. She tucked herself under the covers.
Cregan's smile stayed. "Are you warm enough for the night?"
"Yes, but… are you not staying?"
He shook his head. "I don't want you to wake in a fright if tonight's details blur in your mind. Waking beside me may be startling for you."
"No! I-" she looked around the room in thought. "I want you to stay. I want that."
His head tilted. "Alright. If you want this. But know that nothing will happen to you while I stay here tonight."
"I can live with that," she admitted as she laid on the bed completely.
Darkness filled the room with Cregan blew out the candles, and the bed dipped down as he laid on it. 
In the morning, she awoke with a groan. The sun was burning her eyes. 
"Ah, you're awake," Cregan's voice commented from across the room.
She sat up and rubbed at her eyes until they were raw, determined to get the feeling to fade. When she did, a headache began to erupt.
"Easy," he chided as he walked to her. He reached to the nightstand and held a cup out to her. "The maester made a tea to help with the pain."
She sipped it gratefully. "I had the strangest dream that I'm fearing is true," she said with a groggy voice.
He watched her with a glimmer in his eyes. His hand reached to her and smoothed her hair down.
She peered up at him. She wondered how someone could be so thoughtful.
"Tell me something," he said as sat down at her side. "If that's alright."
"Anything," she whispered. Her eyes flickered to his lips. 
"Is the warmth still there?" 
He watched her face began to near his. She placed her hand on his leg to help her lean over to him. "I believe I love you," she admitted gently.
He smiled and leaned the rest of the way to her. His lips kissed her softly and slowly. 
Before she could truly react, he pulled away again. The grin on his lips returned, as were his hands in her hair, "I was going to gift this to you yesterday, but I believe today is a better day for it."
"Oh," her shy demeanor returned and she set the cup down.
"Don't fret. You'll adore it. Or… I hope you do."
She watched him get up from the bed, beginning to dig though a drawer in his closet. 
He returned with a book in his hand. "It took some time, but I believe it was worth it."
She reached out and took it, examining the cover. She only stared at it for a moment before her eyes lit up. "Is this-?"
"Your favorite novel? It is." His head tilted back and forth, "Or, at least, I believe it is."
"This isn't the same copy as the one with my Father," she remarked.
"No, it's not. I tried to recover it but was unsuccessful. I hope this copy with be worthy of your happiness."
"Oh, Cregan," she mused. "It's… it is too much. I don't understand."
"It is a wedding gift. Do not think twice about it. You haven't the feignest idea of how far I would go to please you," he admitted.
"I've never had someone do something so selfless on my behalf." She hugged it to her chest, "Tell me how you managed it."
He smiled, content with the way she cherished the book. "I admit that I wrote a letter to your father, asking for the book. I was sent ripped pages in return-"
He faltered at the way her face fell.
"-But," he continued, "I sent the pages off to three well-read men and promised them anything to the man who found the novel it belonged to. It took a while, and I feared I would not have it in time, but alas, one of them found it. And here it is."
"What did he wish for?"
He frowned slightly, "Don't fret over that. Just know that it is all handled accordingly."
She pulled it from her chest to look at it again to guarantee that it was indeed real. "You are the most spectacular man I've met." She looked up at him. "I don't know what I have done to deserve you, but I shall spend my entire life thanking the gods for you."
"It is only a novel, my girl."
"It is much more than a novel."
"Then you'd hate to see what else I'd get you to only see a smile come to your lips."
She leaned over to him again as before, "May I kiss you?"
"Of course," he smiled. 
She grinned and pushed herself into his lap completely, pulling her body as close to his as she could, careful to not hit him with the book still in her hand. 
She finally connected their lips with a heavier intent than they had shared before.
He groaned against her and wrapped his arms around her.
"I'm certain," she panted against his lips, "I love you."
"My girl, I've loved you since the moment you arrived in Winterfell."
She pulled away from him completely. "W… What?"
"Since that day," he said as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "I've been quite sure that I love you."
"You feel warmth when you are with me?"
"When I see you, I want to keep you beside me. I want to hold and kiss you until you're dizzy. I want to watch you sit and read until you become one with the sofa," he chuckled, "I want to see your joy as much as I can. I want you."
"You're unlike any man I know."
"That's alright. Isn't it?"
She chuckled as full relief flowed from her, as if only now accepting that she was safe here. "What a silly question, my lord."
He tilted his head playfully. "My lord?"
"It was my attempt at a jest," she admitted sheepishly. "Was it a poor one?"
"No," he countered. "I was just not expecting it from my meek wife. Perhaps she is not as meek as I once thought."
She laughed again, "Perhaps. We'll see, won't we?"
He kissed her cheek, "I cannot wait." He spoke in her ear, "But for now, be gone. You have a novel to read, don't you?"
Her eyes lit up and she clambered out of his lap. "I do! Oh, I do!"
Cregan watched the woman run to the cloth chair by the fireplace and sit, pulling her book open in a rush to absorb its words.
He chuckled and stood as he began to dress, "I'll fetch you for dinner. There's breakfast on the table from earlier. I expect you'll be content until then," he teased.
She looked up and nodded, "I will."
"Read closely. I expect to hear a summary at dinner of whatever chapters you consume."
She grinned from ear to ear as he left.
………………………………………………….
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luvyeni · 1 day
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( drabble ) after party ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 심재윤 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁ after watching you on the runway , he finally got you at the after party ヾ
idol!jake・ runwaymodel!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ fingering , unprotected sex , oral ( male rec. ) wc ・0.6 k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 he looks so fine in that photo , the things i want to say is crazy ...
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being an idol for so long; jake was used to the fashion show — and he loved it , flying to different countries, seeing all the cool clothes… and the best of all; the sexy runway models , like you.
the moment he saw you on the runway, he was enamored by you; his eyes following you all the way down, until jungwon had to pull him back before fell out of his chair. when you came back around for the final walk — he knew he had to find a way to talk to you.
he had his chance; his other members talking amongst themselves and other celebrities, he was nursing his glass of wine in his hand — watching you dance with another model across the room. you made eye contact with him , giving him a flirty smile and a wink before walking away; sitting his glass down , standing up. “im going to the bathroom.
he followed behind you; you looked over your shoulder, smiling when you saw him behind you. he stayed close enough to see you , but far enough to not raise any suspicions. his eyes low on your low cut dress , your entire back out , he bit his lip as you turned into a quiet corner — away from everyone else.
“oh fuck…” you sighed , his plump lips on yours , a giggle leaving your glossed lips. “i don't even know your name.” he pulled away , face red from the alcohol; hair messy from you tugging at it. “it's jake.” his hands on your waist, working it's way down. “jake.” you repeated , his hand coming up your dress. “you're getting a little handsy there jake , you don't even know me.” you teased. “i know enough.” he said , cupping your heat. “shit.” you moaned out. “like how wet you are for me.”
it was on from there , his finger stringing your clothed clit , pushing your thong to the side. “please.” he pushed a finger inside you. “fuck , your fingers.” sucking on your neck. “you're so tight , been waiting to fuck you since i saw you on the runway.” he said hissing as you tightened around his fingers. “fuck me please.”
undoing the buttons of his slacks , his cock ready to be freed. “fuck , gonna stuff you full of my cock.” he lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist , slowly working his cock into your warm cunt. “fuck baby you're so fucking tight.” he cursed , hand coming up to squeeze your boob. “deeper please.” your hand on his waist as he fucked you , both of you forgetting you were still in public and someone could easily hear you. “such a slut for my cock baby -shit- you don't even know me and you were so ready to take me.”
he fully lifted you up against the wall, his cock hitting you much deeper, your cunt squeezing you. “oh fuck your pussy is like heaven.” he moaned. “god im gonna cum , gonna cum.” you gasped , yanking his hair. “fuck jake im gonna cum.” you screamed. “fuck , fuck get on your knees im gonna cum.”
quickly pulling out of you; getting on your knees, he tugged at his cock , throwing his head back as you wrapped you shimmering lips around his tip. “oh fuck!” he groaned out , ropes of cum shooting into your mouth. “mmh fuck.”
you swallowed his cum , sticking your tongue out. he let out a breathless gasp. “shit when will you be in korea? i need to see you again.” you smiled , wiping the remnants of his load of your lips , standing up. “i can make time.”
“where the fuck have you been?” jay asked once the boy made it back to his seat. “we were waiting for you , let's go.” he turned around to where you were dancing with a model once again , your hair was messy , but he knew it was from dancing , you turned to him smiling , he bit his lip turning back to his friend. “i was in the bathroom.”
"mhm wipe the pink lip gloss off your neck before you lie , and before the camera sees it."
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©LUVYENI translations to other sites prohibited, reblogs are appreciated but not forced !
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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 2 days
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“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐦𝐞” •。ꪆৎ ˚⋅
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synopsis: asking sylus to be more rough with you…don’t do it again.
tags: rough, spanking, edging, manhandling, creampie, degradation, explicit, vulgar, doggystyle, tears, etc.
wrd cnt: 0.9k
a/n: this one was sitting in the drafts for like a bajillion years i think
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You learned your lesson now, don’t ever tell Sylus to be more rough.
It’s not like he can’t be, or doesn’t want to; because fuck does he want to.
It was for your own well being that he didn’t go too far.
So let’s say it’s your fault he’s absolutely destroying you right now, your face pushed down onto the pillow while his other hand grips tightly on your hip.
“Sy-lus…wait!” You plead, your cheek squished onto his silk pillowcase while you beg for him to slow down, only to hear a deep, rich, almost mocking laughter.
“Don't tell me you're crying already Kitten? You wanted me to rough you up a bit, what’s wrong now?” He says, his voice not far away from a growl.
You can only cry into the sheets, feeling his throbbing cock stretching out your walls as he pounded you in so hard there was sure to be a dent in the mattress. Your walls would remember the stretch and think only of him. He was ruining you for anyone else.
“Please- S-slow down…” You mewled, juices spraying out and coating your clit as it drips down, teardrop shapes sure to stain the sheets.
With a tsk, Sylus pulled out of you, the sudden change making your body scrunch up slightly.
“A complacent thing like you doesn’t deserve my cock.” He spouts, leaving a hard smack on your ass and flipping you over. He takes your wrists in one hand, pulling them above your face and pinning you while his other cups your face harshly.
“Or maybe you want me to be even more rough? Ignoring your little pleas. “Is that it, sweetie?”
Truthfully you didn’t even know what you wanted right now, but the way he was throwing you around and speaking to you made everything inside you grow more warm and wanting.
So he made the decision for you, gently smacking your face like he wanted you more awake, on your toes l, before giving you a command.
“Up. Get on all fours. You know better than to disobey, don't you?”
You knew what was good for you, apparently not when you first asked Sylus to be rough, but you knew to not push him anymore.
You weakly crawl up, palms and knees smooth against the slippery sheets.
“Good. Spread your legs a little more, let me see how messy you are down here.” He says, clearly on a mission to embarrass you.
You hesitate but only for a second, spreading your knees farther and arching your back down to give him a good view.
“Mhmm, good girl,” He coos, taking his thumb and pressing it into your slit, letting your arousal drip out with every small press; making you clench your hole around nothing.
“This pussy is so needy…and you want me to stop? Look at you. Such a pathetic little thing.”
You shudder at his words, pushing your ass back to feel more of his thumb inside you.
But that wasn’t smart. He pulled out of you, licking his finger with a pop sound leaving his mouth.
“You want more? You were just begging me to slow down, make up your mind.” He says harshly, leaving no room for any negotiations.
“Tell me what you want.” He says hastily to bridge your silence, giving your ass a harsh slap to break it.
“W-want you to fuck me more Sy…” You say quietly, your ears heating up at how embarrassing that was to say out loud.
“Louder” Sylus takes a wack at your ass again, leaving a red mark of his hand.
“More- Please!” You squeal, your eyes shut and in recovering of his harsh treatment on your body.
Without a warning, he pulls your ankles toward him, making you fall face down onto the bed; dragging your lower half to dangle off the edge as you feel hour two feet slightly touch the hardwood as he pushes on your lower back; keeping your chest pressed into the bed and your rear against his cock, eager to pummel into your waiting walls.
“Why are you shaking kitten? I haven’t even done anything yet.” He says, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your folds, sadistically poking it in and out of your hole.
“But youre right, you should be scared.” He added, grabbing your arms and pulling them back again to cuff you into position with his large grasp.
“Are you ready?” He asks, putting up a loving front before he rams his cock into you when he hears you speak another “wait!”.
You cry out, his cock kissing the deepest parts inside your velvet folds over and over at a speed you’ve never felt before.
“You’re crying again honey? You’re squeezing on me so tight…I think you like this.” He says, laughing softly as he speeds up, even as he’s fucking you on the end of the bed the bedframe starts to hit the wall with each thrust.
“Sylus-! Fuck…I-I’m gonna cum…” You whimper out, your throat dry from your moans.
“You better.” He threatens. “You’ll cum and you’re going- to. thank. me.” He says sternly, giving you a hard thrust after each word; pushing you over the edge.
You cry out, feeling the bubbling knot in your stomach tighten before coming completely snapping.
“Fuck-Sy…Sylus! T-Thank you…thank you-!” You repeated over and over, like a chant to your god.
He barely stopped, still thrusting into you, making sure you learn your lesson.
Only a few moments go by before he reached his own high, before you felt it.
He hopes you know this isn’t your last orgasm of the night.
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whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.
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trailerpark!rafe wakes up with one thing on his mind and it’s not what you are baking. 💦🍯 dirty sex below
Your pretty little self loved to bake and that didn’t stop even when you were over at Rafe’s. He had just woken up, tall body stretching as he lifted himself off the worn mattress. His nose caught a whiff of something sweet, his heavy footsteps carrying him through the creaky trailer and towards the small kitchen. You were quite the sight to take in, standing by the oven as your pretty eyes surveyed the pan you had just taken out by the looks of it. In nothing but a little pink nightgown with the fat of your ass hanging out and nipples poking through the thin material, had his mouth watering for something else sweet.
“Whatcha doing up so early, sugar?” His raspy voice vibrated through the kitchen as you began mixing the icing together. You got a little startled as when you were baking you were in your own world. You were of course happy he was awake though, bouncing on your feet to face him. “Making cinnamon rolls.” You told him, his large hands coming to roughly squeeze your waist.
His blue eyes looked over at the stove, before glancing down at you and raking across your body that looked tiny in comparison to his. “Cinnamon rolls, huh? You always gotta make somethin’ sweet for me. Don’t you?” He asked, voice low as he brought one of his hands up to grip your chin firmly.
You didn’t hesitate to nod, eyes wide and lashes long as they blinked up at your favorite person. Rafe let out a throaty laugh, his thumb coming up to rest against your pouty bottom lip. “I’m gonna do somethin’. Yeah? And don’t start worrying’ about those cinnamon rolls you made either.” He rasped out, watching your pretty face frown.
He moved your bowl of icing to the side, your little protest about it being cut short as he lifted you up onto the counter. He pulled you further down, his massive hand yanking your tits out of the nightgown and bunching it around your waist to see your perfect cunt. “Shit… pussy is beggin’ to be fuckin’ touched.” He laughed, his thumb coming out to rub your sweet pearl in circles. He loved watching you shudder, not knowing what to do as you were still new to all of these dirty things. He smirked, leaning down to bury his pert nose against your clit and shove tongue in your hole.
He was addicted, your cunt like a drug to him as he slurped your sweet sugar up. He couldn’t get enough, blunt nails digging into your fleshy thighs as he ate you like the poor starved man he was. Your sweet whines above only making him want more. He didn’t give a damn how messy he got either, moving his head back and forth as he buried his tongue even further to make you squeal.
His heavy blue eyes watched as you looked down him, your tits swaying as you breathed heavily from pleasure. He pulled back, sliding a thick digit in which you automatically clenched around. “That’s my good little fuckdoll.” He murmured, his free hand coming up to slap your tits. “I’m about to fuckin’ pound your pretty cunt sweet baby.”
His facial hair was sticky with your juices, tickling your neck as his thick cock rammed into you. He let out a breathy groan against your soft skin, the hard smacks of his thrusts echoing off the trailer walls. You were a babbling mess, his big dick stretching your drenched hole and his words growing dirtier.
He pulled away from your neck, both his large hands coming on either side of your head to hold it in place. His piercing eyes bored into you, making your corrupted little brain spin. “Fuck, how’d I get so lucky? Baking me treats and shit. Cleaning up this shithole of a place for me. Gettin’ to breed you with my little trailer park babies.” He said, making your eyes roll back as that funny feeling was growing more in your tummy. Especially the way held you and place, making you take his monster dick and hear his dirty words.
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maxinesgun · 2 days
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Say Please | a.a
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pairing: abby anderson x f!reader
contains: nsfw, soft dom!abby, thigh riding, praise kink, cursing, no plot to be seen, just super horny
summary: abby gives you what you need when she returns from a long patrol.
a/n: just a short and very smutty thing i wrote bc i am feeling things about this woman. please help me
word count: 1.3k
“You missed me?” Abby grinned against your lips as you wrapped your arms around her neck, practically clinging to her. She was warm and solid in your arms, smelled of cloves and musk and… Abby. God, you loved it. Loved her. She would have to pry you off of her, after the long day you’d spent without her.
You just captured her lips in another kiss, your tongue skirting over her full bottom lip, and she hummed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“So much,” you said, a little breathless, when you pulled back. Your eyes roved over her face, taking in the sight of her with proverbial hearts in your eyes. She was so pretty, a few wisps of hair hanging loose from her braid, a faint smile on her lips as she gazed back at you. Her hands were on your waist, holding you against her as you leaned in to continue the kiss. 
You found yourself breathing out small giggles as she kissed you back with fervor, and she moved you backward until you bumped into the wall behind you, causing you to let out a little gasp against her lips. Your hand came forward to cup her jaw, pulling her down into you as she began to shrug off her gear, tossing it down on the floor unceremoniously without breaking the kiss.
Just the feeling of her hands on you was enough to have you breathing harder, have the familiar ache between your legs demanding attention. A needy sound slipped out of you, and Abby drew back slightly, bracing an arm against the wall beside your head as she looked down at you.
“You’re eager today,” she said softly in that velvety voice of hers. Her other hand rubbed at your waist, toying with the hem of your shirt as she slotted a muscular thigh between your legs, just lightly pressing it up against your heat. “Must’ve been waiting all day for this, huh?”
“Mm. You know I have,” you breathed, your voice slightly shaky as she moved her thigh just a bit to press more firmly against you, angled just right to rub against your sensitive clit. Your hands bunched in the front of her shirt, clenching into fists as the heat flared in your abdomen.
“Lucky me.” She leaned in to bring her lips to your neck, just under your jaw. Her kisses were hot, slow, lingering as her hand slipped higher under your shirt, calloused fingers exploring your bare skin. They drifted higher until they reached your chest, and her big hand cupped you through your thin bra, squeezing lightly. 
You let out a sigh at the feel of her all over you, your eyes fluttering a little as your whole body practically pulsed with need. The ache between your legs was growing more persistent, and you rocked your hips forward against her thigh, the firmness of it and the rough fabric of her cargo pants stimulating you just right. Pleasure shot right through you, and you hardly even realized it when a soft moan slipped from your throat.
Abby’s lips trailed from you neck to your jawline, and she moved back to look at you again, her darkened eyes drinking in your flush, your lowered eyelids. A light chuckle rumbled in her chest. “Look at you, all pretty like this. I barely touched you,” she said lowly, a slight teasing note in her voice.
Her hand in your shirt drifted back down to your waist, holding you in place as she slowly, deliberately, canted her thigh forward, rubbing it between your legs with more pressure. Instinctively, your hips attempted to rock forward again in her grasp, desperate for more friction. “Is that what you want?” she asked quietly, her face inches away from yours. Her voice was melted butter. “Does that feel good?”
“Mhm,” you hummed through another shaky sigh, too preoccupied at the moment for words. You hitched your leg up around her waist for better contact, and the heat was delicious as you ground your hips into her again. You were so sensitive, aching for her. She moved to hold your leg against her hip, steadying you as she leaned against you, pressing you harder against the wall and her firm body as you fucked yourself against her strong thigh.
She was hovering over you, arm braced against the wall, eyes glued to your face as you desperately chased your pleasure. You bit your lip, trying to hold in the sounds that were threatening to come out.
“Come on. I wanna hear you, baby,” she murmured, gaze dropping to your mouth. Relenting, you stopped holding back, allowing your breathy moans to slip out with each shift of your hips. Abby’s breathing was growing heavier, too, just from the sight and sounds of you coming undone so easily for her. “Good girl,” she said softly. The praise went straight to your core, and you whimpered, head tilted back against the wall in pleasure.
“You’re getting close, yeah?” You were—her thigh was pressing into you right where you needed it, and you were properly panting as you felt the heat begin to build steadily, becoming more intense. “Not yet,” Abby said quietly, a bit roughly. “Not until I say so. Understand?”
“Abby—ngh, I’m gonna—fuck,” you moaned, your eyes dropping shut. She was pressed flush against you, those hard, taught muscles like a solid wall as you ground yourself against her, needing more, needing release. Her grip on your leg tightened, and she picked up her own motions, helping you get there as she rocked her thigh against you. You were so turned on that you were sure there would be a damp spot left on her pants. “Abby, fuck—”
“You need to come? Hm?” she murmured, her voice a bit shaky. She could see the desperation in your movements, the way your eyebrows were kitting together, telltale signs that you were nearing your peak. Little whines had started to escape you as you tried to hold off as long as you could, but it was hopeless—you were losing it, so close to toppling off the edge. “Say please,” she said firmly, quietly, her warm breaths puffing against your face as her lips ghosted over your jaw.
“Please,” you half-whimpered, the word barely intelligible. Your mind was clouded with pleasure, and it was a struggle to keep yourself tethered to anything but the feeling building up inside you. “Please,” you tried again, the moan slightly more coherent. 
You heard Abby release a heavy breath, felt her eyes on you. “Go ahead,” she breathed. “That’s it, come for me.”
As soon as she said it, you were clenching around her, moans rising in pitch as you teetered on the edge. A few moments later the pleasure was crashing over you, and you were clutching Abby’s shoulders as you rode out your orgasm. She was half-holding you up as she pressed her thigh into you, encouraging your pleasure for as long as possible.
You cursed under your breath through the aftershocks, feeling a bit shaky as you lowered your leg to the ground in the aftermath of that intensity. It took a moment for your breathing to slow, and you leaned back against the wall, Abby leaning in to kiss your collarbone gently. You ran your hands down her arms, a breathless chuckle bubbling from your chest. 
“You need me to carry you? Or can you walk?” Abby teased, a slightly smug smile on her face as she peered down at you, caging you in against the wall. You batted her chest playfully, smirking, even though you were tempted to accept the offer. 
“Hush.” Instead, your hands went down to the button of her pants to return the favor.
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empresskylo · 3 days
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trigger warning: age-gap, dub-con
john price knowing how wrong it is to think one of his sergeant's daughters is attractive.
he knows that when your father brings you to base one day, showing you around, he shouldn’t be looking at you the way he is. but the way you wore such a cute little skirt, exposing your soft legs, fuck, he found it hard. and the cute little bow you wore in your hair. he knows that shouldn’t be doing it for him… but it is.
and fuck, you’re way too young for him. how old did your father say you were? in your twenties? way too fucking young for the likes of him. and off limits. but when you give him a big smile, introducing yourself, he knows he shouldn’t have called you “doll.” the way you get shy at the pet name. fucking hell, he knows everything running through his mind is wrong.
he knows it’s wrong when he bumps into you as you find yourself on base rather often. how his hands linger on your back as he rights himself, the way you flush under his gaze, struggling to hold eye contact. and he definitely knows he shouldn’t be wondering what kind of underwear you have on. does it have a little bow? or are you wearing a lacy thong?
when you wander into his office one night, your father working late, he knows he should ignore you, ask you to leave. but he doesn’t. his eyes follow you as you stroll around the room. he knows he shouldn’t spin toward you in his chair as you approach, asking him innocent questions. he knows it’s wrong when he stands up and begins explaining the answer to you and you innocently move to sit on his desk. oh, and he definitely knows it’s wrong when he sits back down in his office chair, trapping you, your legs dangling off his desk in front of him. he sees the way you stutter, get all choked up at the close proximity.
he knows he shouldn’t take advantage of you, the way your lips part when his hand touches your exposed thigh. when you mumble “c-captain—?” confused at what he’s doing. he shouldn’t keep going, shouldn't want to elicit more bashful sounds as you struggle to compose yourself. knows he shouldn’t spread your legs in front of him, making your eyes widen. shouldn't grab your knees, pry your thighs apart. “what’re you—?” he knows he should have stopped then, but he didn’t. his fingers were too fast, finding the softness of your panties, stroking your core through the fabric. he had been waiting so fucking long for this. you were plaguing his thoughts. he didn't have a choice.
and you should have gotten up and ran out, but you didn’t. your legs fell a little more open for him, never imagining your little crush on your dad’s boss to amount to anything. and when price’s eyes go dark, his mind reeling with how you’re actually letting him touch you, you whimper.
and that was the end of price’s control (if he had any to begin with). everything else be damned. he no longer cares if it was wrong. he didn’t care that you were forbidden fruit. fuck, he had to have you. needed to have you. wanted to hear you make more sounds, and how your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the noises, embarrassed. “don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart.”
and when he pushes your pink panties to the side, letting his thick fingers slide into you, he groans. “so wet f’me?” he clicks his tongue. that’s when he realizes how badly you’ve wanted this too. how an older man who knows what he’s doing has enticed you. bet you’re wondering what it’s like to be with someone whose not some clumsy boy. but a man who cares about your pleasure above his own.
you gasp as he picks up speed, his lips tipping up as your eyes flutter. “feel good, sweetheart?” you nod vigorously, making him chuckle.
when his fingers leave you, you pout. “ever do this before?” he asks. your embarrassed reaction is answer enough. no, you haven’t. and that shouldn’t have made him groan. shouldn’t have made him stiffen even more in his already tightening pants. fuck, you were so innocent. and he was going to ruin you. ruin you for any other man.
so when he has you laying back on the desk, his cock in his hands, notching it between your thighs, he promises to go slow. you’re just so tight. “fuckin’ hell,” he curses when you flex around him. “this hurt?” he asks you, a bit out of breath.
you nod and he gives you a little kiss. “jus’ let yourself get used to me, doll. relax. there you go, atta girl. let me in, sweetheart.” he grunts as he bottoms out. your arms wrap around him and you whimper, feeling so stuffed.
he knows he should stay slow, let you take your time. but he can't. no, he thrusts into you, ignoring your yelps, and then he's done for. he keeps a steady pace rocking against you, already so close knowing no man has ever done this to you before, he remembers he never locked his door. the way his desk is bumping against the floor, someone might come in to investigate. and that someone could be your father.
he’d see his little girl, shirt shoved up to her chin, skirt hiked up around her waist, her arms wrapped tightly around his captain whose at least 15 years her senior as he thrusts into her, making her moan, taking her virginity roughly against his desk.
price knows he should tell you to quiet down, to not make so many noises, but all your little cries and mewls are sending him closer to the edge. his fingers find your clit and you mewl. you gasp and struggle to breathe, the sensation of everything so overwhelming. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
“i-i think so,” you stutter, tears streaming down your cheeks. he picks up his pace, his hips slamming into yours, his hand groping your breast roughly, sure to leave bruises. “that’s it, sweet girl,” he praises as he feels you tightening around him. feels your walls spasm. and when you finally orgasm, your body shaking under his weight, he spills himself inside you.
and he knows he should have pulled out. knows he should have used a condom. but he didn’t. in some sick twisted way, this was his way of claiming you. and you did so well letting him fill you up. your ankles tighten around him as if you don’t want him to leave. so he doesn't stop himself from spurting ropes inside you, the white liquid seeping out around his shaft.
you sit like that for several beats, arms grasping at him, clawing him against your chest, before he chuckles. “gotta let me go, sweetheart. don’t worry, i won’t go anywhere.” your legs fall away from him, realizing you are holding him hostage.
he groans when he pulls out, the way you leak all over his desk. he shouldn't enjoy that sight, the way you're laying languidly on his desk, out of breath, shaken up, his come dripping out of your weeping cunt.
but he does know he should help you up, clean you with a spare shirt he finds in his office. adjust your skirt and shirt so they sit properly again, your arms weak and limp at your side. kisses your forehead and tells you how good you did for him. tips your chin to look up at him, "really?" you ask, eyes hopeful and full of life.
"such a sweet girl," he coos, guiding you out of his office. and he knows your father won't have a clue. won't even notice the way you limp slightly as you walk. probably thinks his captain is so nice leading you through base, keeping you company while he works late.
and price knows he shouldn't do this again, shouldn't even think about doing it again. but you were just so good to him. so perfect as you let him have his way. your tiny gasps, the way you clawed at him, how tight you were. he wasn't sure he was strong enough to hold himself back.
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