#my most iconic t-shirt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smutoperator · 5 months ago

Text

Training My Daughter

Seol YoonA (Sullyoon), Minatozaki Sana x Male Reader

Part 2 of 4 of All In Family

Tags: alternative universe, assgasms, belly bulging, choking, daddy kink, deepthroating, dirty talking, facesitting, facefucking, finger-fucking, floor sex, leg-locking 69, mating press, messy and sweaty, mother and daughter, multiple creampies, plot twist, rimming, (very) rough sex, (lots of) spanking, squirting, star wars

Word count: 8027.

Sullyoon is one of Dankook University's most popular students. Yesterday, she celebrated her 21st birthday with a crazy party involving members of her sorority and the neighboring fraternity.

However, although she's getting increasingly popular, she still has a way to go before catching her mother.

"SANA, SANA, CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE ME AN AUTOGRAPH?" a university student screams as Sullyoon's mother slowly climbs out of the passenger's seat of a very luxurious car. As soon as Sana walks in her daughter's direction, the campus becomes a Twice fan meet, with many students rushing for the unique opportunity to meet Sullyoon's celebrity mother. Even though many years have passed since her idol career ended, lots are still aware of her viral moves like the iconic "shy shy, shy".

Despite the massive crowd, Sana displays the professionalism she's well known for, while never losing sight of her daughter either. After a few selcas and autographs for some lucky students, she picks up Sullyoon as the two climb into the car and head home.

Sana starts asking questions about Sullyoon regarding her on-campus birthday party. The two chat a lot as Sana is really happy about her daughter being able to go to one of the top colleges in Korea after all her hard work as an once young girl who came from Japan in search of her dreams and became one of the biggest foreign celebrities of Korea in the process. But after a while, the spiciest questions finally arrive.

"How many guys have you fucked in that party, YoonA?" Sana asks her daughter. "T-two," Sullyoon answers, hesitating to tell her mother. But Sana knows she is lying.

"It was at least double that, right, YoonA?" Sana asks again. "Yes, Mother," Sullyoon answers sincerely. "And how are you feeling about that?" Sana keeps launching questions. "A bit sore," Sullyoon answers.

"Looks like you need some training, YoonA. Taking on that many guys at once can be a challenge. I may be shy about lots of things, but sex was never one of them, you know you can always ask me for advice, right?" Sana asks. "Sure," Sullyoon responds, blushing a bit.

"Do you want me to train you for those occasions? I know a guy that will be perfect for you to handle those situations. Should I call him, YoonA?" Sana tells her daughter. "It's your call, Mother, I'll do it as you please," Sullyoon answers.

"Alright, let's head home and prepare ourselves," Sana tells her daughter they dress themselves in very casual clothes that expose their midriffs, Sana taking a top plus Yoga pants while Sullyoon dresses herself in an undersized t-shirt and booty shorts. "Your tummy is so beautiful YoonA, I envy it so much," Sana says. "Thanks, Mom," Sullyoon says as her face turns red again. Both of them are wearing high heels, as Sana gives Sullyoon the first lesson. "The heels always stay on, YoonA," she tells her daughter.

Sana arrives at your house, greeting you with kisses. "Meet my daughter, YoonA," Sana presents Sullyoon to you. "Wow, she's beautiful, but knowing her mother, that's no surprise," you say.

Sana smiles as she enters your living room, full of sculptures and paintings with sexual undertones. She stops right by one that depicts a nude woman and her curves. "That's your mother too," you tell Sullyoon, pointing at the painting. "It's called 'The Perfect Woman', the artist drew its inspiration from Sana and later gave it to me," you say.

"But let's get to the point, every time your mother comes to me, I know she's looking for sex. We know each other since before you were born and that's always been the case," you tell Sullyoon. "Are you excited to be part of a mother-daughter threesome, YoonA?" you ask the young girl.

"Yeah," Sullyoon answers, still a little shy. "Then let's start, I want to worship this beautiful body, I can see you've got the perfect genetics from your mother," you tell her. "Well, she's taller and bulkier, she's got the beauty from myself, but the strength from her father," Sana says, grabbing her daughter's ass.

"Sana, can you show me your ass too?" you ask her as she turns around and displays her nice backside covered by her yoga pants. Sullyoon's cheeks on the other hand already have her cheeks fully in the open. "Damn, your daughter got a great ass," you tell Sana.

"My mother said you are very rough fucking girls, is that true?" Sullyoon asks. "Well, there is a difference, I'm not like the guys at your birthday party yesterday that you had and Sana told me about, who are rough but don't know what they are doing. I'm different, I'm rough in a way that makes girls push themselves to the edge," you say.

"Alright girls, enough of talking and let's start fucking," you tell them as you immediately pull Sana's top down, displaying her beautiful erect nipples. Sana smiles as you put your mouth in her perky tits and suck them in front of her daughter.

"Your turn, YoonA," you say as Sullyoon pushes her top up and lets you suck her tits next. "They are so cute," you say as you press them. You quickly start showing up your credentials, pinching Sullyoon's tits and giving a little tap to her legs that make her let out her first moans. Sana just watches, letting you handle her daughter all by yourself.

"She's so sexy," you say about Sullyoon as you start choking her. "Turn around, let me see that ass," you order as Sullyoon obliges. "Damn, it's really plump," you say, praising her backside. Quickly, you pull her shorts down, unveiling Sullyoon's white panties under it, which are quickly gone in seconds too.

"Damn, she's got a really meaty pussy, are you sure she's your daughter, Sana? Because yours isn't meaty like this," you say, quickly diving to eat it. "Hmmm, so tasty," you say, diving your face between Sullyoon's ass cheeks. "Beautiful ass, meaty pussy, pretty face, damn, Sana, your daughter is a full-course meal," you say, pleasing Sullyoon's meaty cunt and making her moan again.

Sullyoon shows you she's not so innocent, grabbing your head and pushing it against her fuckholes. "Does my daughter taste good?" Sana asks, taking the initiative herself and grabbing your head as well. "Oh, she tastes amazing, just like her mother," you say.

"How about you, Sana, are you gonna let me taste that delicious ass?" you ask her as you push Sana in your direction and pull her pants down in one go. "First lesson, YoonA, horny sluts like your mother don't wear panties when they are horny," you tell Sullyoon.

You spread Sana's ass and dive right on her folds, licking her delicious asshole and her pink pussy. "YoonA, your mother must have the most beautiful and flexible asshole ever, I fucked it countless times and it always goes back to this tight, small hole every time," you tell Sullyoon as you tongue Sana's anus.

"Open that asshole for me, YoonA," you command as Sullyoon spreads her mother's ass. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, you lick my ass so good" Sana moans as you tongue her strawberry-flavored butthole.

But you were far from done, lifting Sana as she clings herself to her daughter while you lick her ass with her up in the air. "Shake that ass in my face, slut," you tell her. Sana does it perfectly even though she's way up in the air, even reaching her legs to caress your clothed cock while Sullyoon kisses her mother's perky tits and jerks herself off to the scene.

"Your mother is such a great slut, YoonA, she lets me do anything I want to her, I hope you're like this too," you say to Sullyoon as you eat Sana's pussy with her body lifted. Sana takes things up a notch, showing she's no slouch and hitting your face with her ass while you try to eat her out. "Damn I didn't think my mother was this crazy," Sullyoon thinks in her head.

You kiss and worship Sana's pussy as you slowly bring her back to the ground. "Best pussy in the world, if yours is half as good, we are in for a treat," you say to Sullyoon.

"Come here, YoonA, worship your mother's pussy, it's where you came from after all," you tell Sullyoon, grabbing her head and shoving it against Sana's perfect cunt. Sullyoon's skill impresses Sana. "Wow, she's very good at that," she says. Needless to say, Sullyoon has been training to lick pussies in her sorority since she joined it, so, of course, she's already well-versed in the art of coochie eating.

You kiss Sana and worship her body while Sullyoon remains glued to her mother's pussy. "Wanna suck my dick, horny bitch?" you ask her, taking your clothes off and displaying your muscular body and your cock. "Yes, I do," Sana enthusiastically answers.

Sana gets on her knees and sucks her favorite big fat cock. "Looks like you already trained your daughter to be nasty, my job will be really easy then," you tell her as you start sensing Sullyoon's tongue rimming your asshole. You grab Sana's head, fucking her face and watching her choke on your cock, the only guy that can truly tame that crazy slut.

Sana worships your balls but you quickly stop her and pound her face, the move of your hips sweeping your ass all over Sullyoon's face. You quickly grab both girls' heads and push them against your both, making them choke all over your cock and anus. "Come on, you nasty bitches, show me how much you want it," you tell them as Sana and Sullyoon's faces turn red.

"Push that dick deep in your throat," you tell Sana, bending her over and spanking her ass before manhandling her throat until she gags again. "You nasty Japanese bitch," you say to her as saliva drips out of her chin and you slap your cock in her face while Sana gives you a radiant smile. "I know you like that, I know you go crazy when I'm your nasty bitch," she tells you, deepthroating your cock shortly after.

"Your mother is a tough bitch to tame, YoonA, but she always falls on her knees for me," you tell Sullyoon as you go really rough on Sana, fucking her face like a fleshlight while turning her ass cheeks red with countless spanks. "You should have a safe word for those occasions, YoonA, I know not every girl is as tough and slutty as your mother," you instruct Sullyoon as you destroy Sana's mouth with all your might, her asshole winking at every thrust you give her.

"Look at your mother's asshole, so beautiful and small," you tell Sullyoon. "Can't deny I would love to fuck that but today your mother said it was going to be all about pussy and I'll respect her," you continued as Sana jerks your cock and spit on it before you shove it back in her face balls deep and put her back in her place.

"Come here, YoonA, now you're gonna watch your mother get fucked like a proper slut," you say as Sana bends over and you start pushing your cock in her pussy. Like every single time, you struggle to fit your thick meat in her tight, very small entrance, needing to make a big effort just to push it inside her. "Oh my Gosh, oh fuck," Sana moaned as your cock shaped her walls like a sculptor shapes his work of art.

"AHHHHHHH," Sana screamed as you quickly switched pace, her hair getting messy and falling all over her face while her cheeks got clapped from behind. You grabbed her slim waist, using all the support you needed to drill her pussy. Sullyoon had flashbacks of some guys doing the same at her party and fucking her from behind, but this looked far more intense, as Sana just closed her eyes and took your cock deep in her pussy repeatedly.

"OH MY GODDDDD," Sana yelled as her pussy got completely rag-dolled. Sullyoon was in awe, watching her mother get completely obliterated in a way she had never seen before, your thrusts at very high speeds clapping her cheeks as you and Sana looked at the painting she inspired, you more convinced than ever she was truly the perfect woman, or, better yet, the perfect fuckdoll for you to freely use.

"Fuck, that fucking dick is so big in my pussy," Sana says as she starts getting wetter and wetter down low. Sullyoon is hyper-fixated, amazed as she looks right at her mom's tight pussy being stretched out at an insane pace, your full nine inches going in and out of it like a piston. But what would come next would surprise her even more.

You give Sana's ass a big spank, which triggers a reaction that shocks the cute Sullyoon. Suddenly, despite being drilled like crazy, her mother fights back, moving her hips in the direction of your shaft and taking control, hitting her cheeks right against your muscular belly. "OH FUCK," Sana screams with a very angry voice, ready to unleash her slutty self to the fullest.

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sana repeats endlessly as she keeps moving her hips like crazy, turning you into a passenger of her insanity. Sullyoon smiles as both of you fuck like animals now, as you grab Sana's hair and try to tame her, spanking her butt countless times and answering her moves. "YEEHAW," you say, pulling her hair with one hand as if she was your pony toy, while your other hand takes care of spanking her ass and grabbing her waist. "Holy fuck, I want this for me," Sullyoon thinks.

"OHHHHH, OHHHHHH, OHHHHH," Sana screams, clinging to a handrail as you freely use her body, moving it at your will with violent thrusts deep in her tight cunt that make her cheeks clap. Sana answers it, moving her hips even more frenetically. Sullyoon is baffled at what she's watching, her mother getting plowed like the good slut she is.

"Look at me licking my squirt, YoonA, I'm such a greedy whore," Sana tells her daughter as you briefly pull out of her and let her bend herself over on all fours. But not for long, as soon as Sana drops to taste her juices from the floor, you mount on top of her and quickly go back to plow her pink pussy relentlessly, your balls smashing hard against her clit.

"OH MY GOD, FUCK, THIS DICK IS SO DEEP IN ME, DADDY, HOLY SHIT" Sana screams as you keep drilling her pussy in front of her daughter. Sullyoon fingers her pussy, getting heavily turned on as she watches her mother lower her head to the floor while you stomp on it. "Taste that pussy," Sullyoon says as she starts squirting on the floor, Sana moving her immobilized head to reach for her daughter's juices.

"Kiss your mother's ass," you order to Sullyoon as you finish pounding Sana, giving her pale butt a few spanks. Sullyoon obliges, going further and licking Sana's butthole. "I said kiss her ass, not lick her asshole," you tell Sullyoon, spanking the disobedient vixen's face. "Harder," Sullyoon begs as you hit her face before she dives back to lick Sana's strawberry-flavored anus again.

"Are you sure you want it harder?" you ask Sullyoon, spanking her again. "Yes, Daddy, I want to be your cockslut, just like my mother," she tells you as you choke her and spank her whole body, especially her fat ass, making the young slut moan. Sana just watches, still recovering from the pounding you delivered to her as you push your face to eat Sullyoon's ass. "Get your fucking face in there," the young slut demands, pushing it against her body as she starts shaking her ass.

"Damn, YoonA, you're so fucking dirty," Sana says as she watches her daughter go full slutty and gives Sullyoon a big smile. You bring both girls side by side, taking turns kissing and worshipping their perfect pussies. Sullyoon is so excited she grabs your head and pushes it against her cunt, before moving it towards her mother's slit, doing it back and forth.

You choke Sana and give her face a few hits. "You're such a nasty whore, you said your daughter needed training but she's a big slut just like her mother," you tell her as Sana smiles. "Now I'm gonna teach her a lesson," you tell Sana.

You put Sullyoon on all fours on the floor as your cock invades her meaty cunt. You start plowing her a little slower than Sana, Sullyoon gleefully moaning as your cock hits deep in her wet pussy. "It's so big, fuck," she moans as you steadily fuck her, your hips hitting Sullyoon's fat ass nonstop. "Oh yeah," Sullyoon moans and ducks her head down, closing her eyes trying to cope with the heat you put in her pussy.

"OHHHH SHIT," Sullyoon lets out her first scream while Sana comes in, you sucking her tits while pounding her daughter. "Are you gonna destroy her pussy in front of me?" she asks as you keep moving your hips and sucking Sana's tits. "OH FUCK," Sullyoon screams as you hit her cervix. "You're gonna make me cum so fucking good, fuck me harder, daddy" she then begs, getting her ass hit in response.

"Can you make me squirt all over my daughter's body?" Sana asks. You promptly follow, reach to finger her cunt as her juices drop all over Sullyoon's back. "Harder, Daddy, harder," Sullyoon keeps begging. You put Sana's high heels on her daughter's back as you make Sana rain all over her daughter's back and pick up the speed. "YEAH, LIKE THAT," Sullyoon screams as she gets showered with squirts and pounded like a slut.

"Please, Daddy, don't stop, I'm gonna cum, don't stop," Sullyoon says as her face starts turning red. You grab her waist and push further deep into her pussy, Sullyoon 's long legs shaking. "Give it to me Daddy, don't stop, I'm so close, fucking take it, please," she begs as she creams all over your cock before you handle the duties to her mother. "You're such a pathetic slut, look at you," Sana says as she disciplines her daughter.

"SPIT IN MY FUCKING MOUTH," Sullyoon begs her mother as Sana follows. "I saw how hungry you were for that dick, you want more?" Sana asks. "Yes, I want more, please," she says. "Then spit on my hand," Sana orders. "Yes, rub it on my face," Sullyoon begs. "Don't be so greedy, YoonA," Sana answers as she does it.

"OH YESSSS," Sullyoon screams as you let her and Sana play with each other a little. Sullyoon sucks her mother's tits and dives into her pink pussy. "I wanna taste it, it's the best-flavored pussy I've ever seen," Sullyoon says. You just masturbate to the scene, watching this lovely affair between mother and daughter as you slap your cock in Sana's greedy face and she licks your balls.

"Rub those sweaty balls all over my face," Sana tells you as Sullyoon moves to watch as Sana worships your big cock. Soon, you turn your attention back to Sullyoon. "Looks like she's hungry for that cock too," Sana says as you hit YoonA's pretty face again. Sana laughs as she watches her daughter get spanked multiple times all over her body.

"AHHHH, YEAH," Sullyoon moans as you keep hitting her ass, before going back to mount on top of her. "FUCK, YES, AHHHHH," she screams. "Open your legs," you tell Sullyoon, pounding her much harder than before. "YES, DADDY," she screams.

But you have different plans, fully committed to humiliating that young slut, quickly pulling out and sitting on her face. "Lick my dirty ass," you tell her as you and Sana team up on Sullyoon, you getting rimmed while Sana eats her daughter's pussy, Sullyoon barely able to breathe as you suffocate her with your ass and Sana bends over to suck your cock.

"Your fucking ass tastes so good all over my face, so fucking sweaty," Sullyoon says while Sana chokes on your cock. You put your feet in Sullyoon's mouth, putting the young vixen in a fully submissive position. "She loves my feet like her mother loves my dick," you say as you spit on Sana's sweaty face while she rubs her face on your cock.

"No wonder YoonA already knows so much, look at the fucking slut that her mother is," you tell Sana, hitting her face. "Yes, I'm a fucking slut for this big fucking dick," Sana answers as she hits back, you two trading kisses, chokes, and spanks on top of Sullyoon's body. You then grope Sana's tits and suck them while she jerks your cock off, Sullyoon moaning and tasting your feet.

"Sit on my dick," you order Sana, who is promptly ready, opening her legs and descending that big pole with ease. "Oh my Gosh, holy shit," Sana moans as she bounces on your cock under Sullyoon's watch, impressed with how fast her mother moves her hips and fingers herself while getting impaled by your massive meat.

"OH MY GOD, THAT FUCKING DICK FEELS SO FUCKING GOOD," Sana moans just as Sullyoon spits in her mother's pussy. She looks at her mother with naughty eyes, pondering how can she be such a good cock rider, as Sana's cheeks clap against your crotch nonstop, her legs fully open as she bounces so fast your cock pops out of her pussy a few times, but quickly putting it back on. "YOUR FUCKING DICK HITS SO FUCKING DEEP," she moans.

"You're stretching her pussy out so good, Daddy," Sullyoon says as she watches your cock go balls deep in Sana's cunt. You start pounding Sana from up top, the Japanese slut holding herself against the wall to not lose balance as her insides get drilled. "OH YEAH, YEAH," she moans.

"Let me taste that fucking cock," Sullyoon begs as she pulls it out of Sana's pussy, ready to suck all her mother's juices. "Hmm I can smell it," Sullyoon says as she sniffs your cock while you share kisses with Sana, deepthroating it to the fullest. "I wanna gag on it so bad," Sullyoon says. "Throat this dick, learn from your mother," you tell her, as Sana helps Sullyoon engulf your cock balls deep.

"Hold your breath and take it all the way deep," Sana instructs Sullyoon as her daughter tries to take your full nine inches plus your balls in her throat. Sullyoon gags multiple times but keeps pushing anyway. "Spit all over his dirty fucking dick," Sana says, pushing her daughter's head against your pole. "Make it fucking bulge on your throat, dive your slutty face on that dick," Sana keeps instructing, Sullyoon making gagging sounds and losing her breath.

"Let me teach you," Sana says as she grabs your cock to herself, quickly bobbing her head hard on it as she pushes deeper and deeper with ease. "It's so fucking sexy watching you choke on that dick, Mom," Sullyoon says as Sana stays focused, taking your length down her mouth, all the way down to your balls. "Give it to me," Sullyoon begs as she lets her mother spit on her face afterward.

"I love this so much," you say as you watch mother and daughter duel like two nasty sluts for your cock. When Sana takes her next turn, you decided to show Sullyoon how far you can push the limits with her mother, locking Sana's small face between your legs and making her choke on your dick, Sullyoon enjoying the graphic image of her mother's beautiful face turned into a mess as she gags on your cock.

"Oh my God, one day I promise I'll be as much of a slut as my mother," Sullyoon tells you as she watches Sana's face get pancaked between your strong legs and your big cock, getting behind her as both of your team up to eat Sana's pussy, the Japanese slut almost puking in your cock with the pressure it exerts in her naughty throat, Sana not looking like a mess, her hair completely ruined as she still manages to take that cock in her mouth all the way deep.

"Are you getting it wet for me, mom?" Sullyoon asks Sana, spitting on her face as you unlock her. Sana is so cock drunk she doesn't want to let it go, but Sullyoon is ready to add her spit to it, both girls now fighting for every inch of your cock, Sana taking your balls while Sullyoon impales her mouth on your shaft. "Oh my God," Sana says with a smile as she watches her daughter tries to match her sluttiness.

"You feel so good down there taking care of our little holes," Sana says as you take turns licking both their pussies and anuses. You then climb back on top, fingering Sana's butthole. "Look how tight your mother is," you tell Sullyoon as Sana's anal cavity refuses to give up. "OH MY GOD FUCK, SHITTTT," Sana starts screaming as you attempt to give her an anal orgasm, her belly moving with your thrusts in her butthole.

"SHITTTTTT," Sana screams as your fingers up her anus make her cum. "Taste it," you tell her as soon as her cunt squirts, Sana swallowing up your wet fingers. "OH MY GOD," Sana keeps screaming as you go back to finger-fucking her asshole. "If she's already cumming like that with just my fingers, can you imagine what she does with my cock in there?" you ask Sullyoon. "I can't wait to see it," Sullyoon answers. "I promise next time she brings you here you'll see, now I need to fuck your beautiful pussies more," you tell her.

You feed your fingers from Sana's butthole straight to Sullyoon's mouth. "Your mother is all sweaty but her ass still tastes like strawberries," you tell Sullyoon. "Yes, you're right, Daddy," she tells you as you fist her mouth, making Sullyoon spit all over her pussy. You two team up on Sana, as Sullyoon eats her mother's cunt while you keep fisting her anus. "That slut is so tight, I can put my whole arm up her ass and her hole shirks back to normal as soon as I pull out," you say.

"OH MY GOD, FUCKKKK," Sana keeps moaning as your finger stimulates her asshole, making her squirt all over her daughter's face. "You're gonna have many anal orgasms like this in the future, YoonA, even better if you can do it just with hands instead of a cock like your slutty mother," you tell Sullyoon as she licks Sana's pussy to the fullest. "OH FUCK MY ASS IS GETTING USED SO WELL," Sana screams as she gets one last anal orgasm.

"You wanna watch how you were conceived, YoonA?" you ask Sullyoon. "Of course, Daddy," the young slut answers. You warm Sana up with some dirty talk and choking. "Who's the biggest slut on the planet?" you ask Sana. "I am," she answers. "That's right," you tell her.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Sana, the perfect woman," you say as you start licking her pussy. Sullyoon is right to her side, masturbating to the hot scene. You give Sana a little anal tease, putting the tip of your cock in her butthole before pulling out and switching to her cunt. "I'll save it for another day," you say.

Despite getting pinned to the floor, Sana moves her hips to meet your cock as soon as it gets in her pussy. You spread her beautiful legs as Sullyoon is already creaming herself watching her mother getting drilled. You drive Sana to the floor, pounding her on an anime-esque mating press position. "OH MY GOD, OH SHIT," she moans as you stretch her pussy out, pounding it balls deep, her asshole winking every time your cock hits her cervix.

You choke Sana and talk dirty to her. "I'm gonna put a baby in that womb, give YoonA a sister that will grow up to be another big slut just like her mother," you tell Sana as you keep drilling her pussy, pressing her cheeks against the floor at each thrust while Sullyoon watches.

"Oh my God, show me the slut I am, breed me, give YoonA another sister," Sana begs as she looks at you with sexy eyes, letting herself get completely stopped in front of her daughter as your rough but very passionate thrusts in her pussy keep mounting. Sullyoon is bemused, watching your cock bulging under Sana's belly. "That woman looks so cute but is so nasty, how does it feel to have the perfect nympho as your mother, YoonA?" you ask Sullyoon. "Well, she's for sure a good mother to me," the young girl answers.

Sana manages to move her hips even pressed to the floor. "AHHHH, FUCK, FUCK, HOLY SHIT," she moans. You let her spin on your cock for a bit, you two trading sexy stares as Sana bounces on your cock while on the floor. "I'm gonna fill this fucking slut pussy," you tell her, getting completely on top of Sana and drilling her harder than ever, making loud noises as your bodies collide with each other at each thrust you give her.

"Watch this YoonA, learn how babies are made," you tell Sullyoon as you slow down, passionately kissing Sana and letting her walls squeeze your cock to the fullest until you fill her womb to the brim. "Your mother said she was not on the pill, hope you can get a younger sister over 20 years later, YoonA," you tell Sullyoon as your semen oozes out of Sana's tight pussy onto the floor. "You wanna go next, YoonA?" you ask the young girl. "Of course," Sullyoon answers.

"Then let's get to the couch," you say to Sullyoon as she follows you. Sana stays on the floor a little more as scoops your cum from it and licks it, while you turn your attention to her daughter.

You shove your cock balls deep in Sullyoon's mouth. "Get me hard again," you tell her. Sullyoon quickly obliges as she lets you fuck her face, but this time shows more willingness to fight back, bobbing her head hard as Sana is already back there to give her daughter instructions. "Keep your eyes open, take it all the way in, get him hard again for that meaty young pussy," her mother says.

Sullyoon grows more and more accustomed to your cock, filling it full of her saliva as deepthroats it hard. "Keep going, YoonA, get it wet for your pussy," Sana tells her as Sullyoon keeps choking on your already hard meat. You push it balls deep once again, her trying to last longer with it deep in her mouth, enjoying the string of saliva covering her pretty face.

"Open your eyes," Sana keeps saying as Sullyoon struggles to gag on your meat. "Louder, keep choking," her mother commands. "Here, let me teach you," Sana says, giving you a no-hands blowjob in front of her daughter. "Learn it, YoonA, I want you to take on that cock by yourself," Sana says as soon as she pops your cock out of her mouth.

You take turns fucking their throats and slap your cock in Sullyoon's face, letting both girls fight for your cock. Sana rubs your shaft all over her daughter's face while Sullyoon dives for your balls. "Come on, YoonA, you can do it," she says.

Sullyoon coughs all over your cock as Sana keeps telling her to keep her eyes open. You grab Sullyoon's pretty face and fuck it, the young girl struggling with your meat being much larger than her university colleagues. "She's still young, she's gonna be a great slut soon," Sana says.

"Follow your mother and lay on the couch," you tell Sullyoon as they get themselves lying upside down on the couch, their faces in prime position to get pounded. You tease both girls, taking turns between their mouths, before turning to Sullyoon, enjoying your cock bulge under her cheeks while Sana licks it.

"I think it's wet enough, turn around YoonA, and let me fuck your pussy," you tell Sullyoon as she follows your instructions. "Open your legs," you tell Sullyoon as you dive to eat her meaty pussy out while Sana sits on her face and starts squirting again over her daughter's body. Sullyoon eats Sana's pussy out, her mouths's lips perfectly interlocking with Sana's pussy lips.

"Look at her, getting my pussy wet so good, I think she's learning quite well," Sana says as you keep herself occupied with Sullyoon's pussy, pushing your head in the direction as you tongue all over her meaty clit. "Spread those lips for me," you tell Sullyoon, while Sana grinds her cunt in her daughter's mouth.

"Oh that feels so good," Sullyoon says as you two team up on her. Sana pushes harder, grinding her pussy all over her daughter's face. "AHHHHH," Sullyon suddenly screams as you shove your 9-inch cock back in her throbbing pussy without warning, Sana gets out of Sullyoon and lets her scream freely. "You're on your own, kid," she tells her daughter.

You drill Sullyoon's pussy hard, her moaning softly while Sana masturbates and goes back to squirting over her daughter. "Do you think she's learning how to take that big fat cock?" Sana asks you. "Yes, she's a good learner, just like her slutty mother," you answer, pushing harder into Sullyon's throbbing cunt.

"Spread it all over me, AHHHH, YEAHHH, THAT'S SO FUCKING HOT" Sullyoon begs as Sana gives her the biggest squirt shower yet. You keep pounding Sullyoon and instructing her. "Drink it, taste your mother's slutty juices," you command as you pick up the pace, grabbing Sullyoon's tits and enjoying her skin turn redder and redder the more you pound her.

Sana squirts all over Sullyoon's toned midriff, turning her daughter into a wet mess as your cock bulges under her fit belly. Sana goes back down, licking her juices from Sullyoon's belly and tasting your cock before you push it back inside her cunt. "Let me see that meaty cunt taking it all the way deep," she says. "AHHH, YEAH," Sullyoon moans up top.

You drill Sullyoon's pussy faster and faster, Sanna enjoying the bulge under her daughter's belly, licking the tip every time it pops under Sullyoon's navel. "Can you squirt like your mother?" you ask Sullyoon as Sana rubs her daughter's clit while you fuck her.

"I'll try, Daddy," Sullyoon answers you as her pussy starts getting wetter and wetter. "I LOVE HOW HARD YOU FUCK ME, DADDY," Sullyoon screams as you push harder and harder in her pussy. "Lick my ass, YoonA," Sana demands as she gets back to sit on her daughter's face, as Sullyoon obliges and puts her tongue deep in Sana's strawberry-flavored anus.

Sullyoon's legs tremble as you spread her long legs further and keep drilling her cunt nonstop. "Don't cum yet," Sana commands to her daughter, who tries to deal with it by pushing even harder into her mother's asshole.

But you have different plans. "Stay there," you tell Sullyoon, pulling out of her and fisting her cunt all of a sudden. "AHHHHH FUCKKKK," she suddenly screams, your massage in her cunt pushing her to the verge of orgasm. "Don't move YoonA, stay strong," you tell her. "FUCKKKK, DADDDY, I CAN'T TAKE IT YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, OH MY GOD" Sullyoon screams as she explodes in the most mind-blowing orgasm she has ever had in her life, her cheeks getting completely covered with juices.

"It smells so sweet," Sana says as she licks her daughter's squirt. "Just like her mother," you tell her. "You told her not to cum, should I punish your daughter for not following your instructions?" you ask Sana. "Well, she's all yours, do whatever you want to her," Sana answers.

You put Sullyoon on the top of the couch, putting her under a mating press just like you did to her mother. "Should I cum in her pussy just like I did to you?" you ask Sana. "Of course," she answers, letting you have total control over Sullyoon.

"Look at this nasty bitch," you say as Sana comes from behind to watch you fuck her daughter and starts rimming your asshole, making you push harder against Sullyoon's meaty cunt, your ass rubbing all over Sana's sexy face. "AHHH, YEAHHH," Sullyoon screams as you punish her, spanking her red face and choking her hard as her cunt keeps getting drilled.

The couch creaks with the intensity of your pounding, you are now in total control of Sullyoon's sexy young body, pushing it against the couch as your whole weight is on top of her. Sana doesn't give a shit about her daughter getting choked to the extreme, just staying entertained licking your asshole. "I'm gonna cum so hard for you, Daddy," Sullyoon says as she can barely breathe with your strong hands wrapped around her neck, her body getting pushed harder and harder as you fuck her at full speed now.

"Oh right there, right there, Daddy, PLEASE, PLEASE" Sullyoon begs as you ramp up the intensity. She's just your fucktoy now, the only thing you care about now is fucking her meaty young cunt until she can't walk, destroying her hot sexy body to the maximum like a horning raging bull. "OH YEAH, OH FUCK," it's your turn to scream as you can feel Sullyoon's walls tighten around your cock, her whole body trembling and her moaning out of breath as you feel it's now or never.

You empty your balls in Sullyoon's meaty cunt, but your cock gets hard again as soon as your cum finishes painting her walls. "Look what you made me do, you dirty slut, you made me cum inside you in front of your mother," you tell Sullyoon. "I didn't do anything Daddy, you wanted," she says.

You grab Sullyoon's neck once again, plowing her even harder than before the creampie. "Why did you have to be so hot? Why did you have to be such a dirty slut just like your mother?" you keep asking her, massacring her pussy and choking her almost to death.

"Spank on her face, spit on it, be a good mother and discipline your daughter," you tell Sana. "Are you ready to cum on his dick, YoonA?" Sana asks. "YES, MOM, I WANT TO CUM ALL OVER DADDY'S COCK," Sullyoon screams, her face completely red as you and Sana watch from above. Sana disciplines Sullyoon, hitting her daughter's body as she is ready to orgasm. "My daughter is such a dirty slut, I'm so proud of her," she says.

"FUCK, AH, AH, AH, AH," Sullyoon starts to scream. "Cum on his dick," Sana orders, spanking her daughter more. "You want more?" you ask Sullyoon as you feel her walls tightening again. "YES, DADDY, CUM IN MY PUSSY AGAIN," Sullyoon begs.

You spread Sullyoon's legs again and go back to drill her cunt hard. Sana spanks her daughter's feet as you too discipline Sullyoon with countless spankings. "You want more?" you keep asking Sullyoon as you choke and fuck her. "YES, DADDY," she emphatically answers every single time.

"USE ME, DADDY, USE ME PLEASE," Sullyoon begs as she can barely think straight. "Dirty fucking slut taking his filthy cock," Sana says of her daughter as her legs start shaking and you two cum at the same time. "THIS IS SO GOOD, THANK YOU, MOM, YOU'RE THE BEST, THANK YOU FOR TRAINING ME LIKE THIS," Sullyoon says as she's completely overwhelmed, that experience will make her never see sex in the same way she once did. All the nights with those fraternity bros at her university will look tame and vanilla now compared to Daddy's 9-inch thick cock.

You and Sana massage Sullyoon's meaty pussy, signaling you two aren't done torturing the young girl with pleasure. "I'M GONNA CUM SO HARD, FUCKKKK, YESS" she screams as your hands touch her cum-filled folds and her legs shake. "YoonA, your pussy is still so tight it can break my little hands," Sana says.

"Oh my God it's so intense," Sullyoon says as she cums again. But you aren't done with her. "Easy, please," she begs as you put your finger up her asshole and then feed it to Sana to taste. "You want to have an assgasm like your mother?" you ask Sullyoon. "Yes, Daddy, anything you want," she answers.

You massage Sullyoon's asshole as Sana watches and laughs. "Ohhhh it's so intense," she says. "Next time we meet I'm gonna fuck your ass and you will think twice to find this intense," you tell her as you make her taste her butthole. "That's it. "Yes, Daddy, fist my ass like I'm a fucking whore, a fucking slut, I love being used like this and treated like a whore," Sullyoon says.

"AHHHH I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN," Sullyoon screams as you manage to give her an anal orgasm. "Daddy, I never felt so good like today, thank you," she says as you two share passionate kisses, Sana watching on the side as you make love with her daughter after giving her the nastiest possible orgasm. "That's why I love him so much, YoonA, he's the only dude who can finger your asshole and then hug and kiss you a second after," Sana says.

"Cum in me again, Daddy, turn me into your cum dump," Sullyoon begs as Sana smiles watching her daughter begging for more. "She's turning into such a good slut," she says. "You like that, you dirty slut? The more you get, the more you want," you say, enraged as you spank Sullyoon's face and tying to find more cum in your balls to give to her.

Sana gives you more naughty stares, pleased with the way you fuck her daughter and happy her training was successful. You keep spanking Sullyoon's face. "You're getting on my nerves, slut," you tell her, choking Sullyoon. "Sorry, Daddy, I'm just a needy girl who wants cum," she says, her face completely red as Sana kisses her. "You're so beautiful taking all this cock," Sana tells her as you lift Sullyon's right leg and put both your feet in her face. "YES, PLEASE, PLEASE," Sullyoon begs as she gets used like a toy,"

"Here's the cum you wanted, bitch," you tell Sullyoon as Sana gets up, watching her daughter get filled up again as her body is completely under your control. "That's fucking amazing," Sullyoon says. "My daughter is such a beautiful slut," Sana says as Sullyoon collapses on the couch, exhausted as your drilling sucked all her energy. But you still have one other horny woman yet to be fully satisfied in the room, all sweaty and ready to be pounded once again even as your cock was so drained by Sullyoon you might be shooting blanks at this point.

But Sana is not like the other girls, she always has a move up her sleeve.

"YoonA, I know you're all dizzy over his cock, but I need to teach you one final move, it's called 'The Snake Enchanter,'" Sana says as she starts kissing you.

"Carry me, let's do it," Sana says as you grab her from the couch and start bouncing on your cock while you lift her. "Holy shit, my mother is insane," Sullyoon says as she watches the way Sana moves her hips, getting you hard once again as she does her signature riding moves. "You're gonna empty your balls in my pussy just like you did to my daughter," she tells you.

"AH, AH, AH, AH," Sana moans as she works on your cock. Sullyoon tries to be a good student just like in her university, watching her mother with her eyes wide open as you carry-fuck Sana all over your living room, getting close to the mirror. Sullyoon is exhausted but comes close to watching her mother bounce on your dick. "So fucking sexy," she says, looking from below as Sana's pussy moves up and down your shaft in a perfect rhythm.

You grab Sana's ass and spread her cheeks in front of Sullyoon, as her mother continues to moan every time she reaches the bottom of your cock, her hips grinding to perfection on your big fat cock. "Squirt on me," you beg Sana as you put her back on the ground, sitting on your chair and letting her finger her pussy right in your face. "Watch this, YoonA," she tells her daughter, covering your face with a geyser of juices.

Sana grabs your head and rubs her pussy in your face. "Yes, baby, worship my juicy pussy," she says as Sullyoon comes back to the scene and jerks your cock off. "Good girl, preparing this cock for your mother to sit on," Sana praises her.

"Sit on my dick," you tell Sana as Sullyoon keeps moving her hands around your cock, lining it up to her mother's entrance and watching her bounce on it. "Pay attention YoonA, this is how you milk a cock dry," Sana says, moving her hips in an insanely fast manner, grinding on your cock to perfection with very fast and strong bounces, her asshole wiking as she moves.

"OH MY GOD, PLEASE, CUM IN MY PUSSY, AHHHH," Sana begs, driving you insane, you grab her and start pushing upwards against her cunt. "OH MY GOD, FUCK," she screams, Sullyoon watches as your thrusts push her mother's body up in the air. "Holy fuck, he's gonna split my mom in half," she thinks.

"AH, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK," Sana screams as you thrust so hard you nearly send her flying against the wall. As you pull out of her pussy, your cum oozes out of it and drops to the floor. "Taste it, YoonA," Sana tells her daughter, who crawls into the stains of semen on the ground and licks them to perfection. "From my pussy too," Sana commands as Sullyoon obliges.

The three of you are exhausted after nearly an hour and a half of rough fucking. "I can't wait to see you again, fucking sexy girls," you tell Sana and Sullyoon, giving them some kisses as they head back to their homes full of sweat and cum.

Sana and Sullyoon arrive home, taking a shower together. "What did you think of your training?" Sana asks her daughter. "It was amazing, mom, thank you again," Sullyoon answers. She's so tired that she goes straight to sleeping after finishing the shower, while Sana sends you some texts.

"My daughter really liked it," she says to you. "It was a pleasure," you text back.

On the following morning, Sana wakes up to her routine. As she heads towards Sullyoon's bedroom, she doesn't find her daughter in there. "YOONA, WHERE ARE YOU?" she screams as she searches all over the house before her motherly instincts kick in.

Sana drives to your house, opens the door, and gets shocked as she watches her daughter naked on all fours on the floor getting her ass fucked while her head gets stomped and she begs for more.

"YES, DADDY, PLEASE, FUCK MY ASS HARDER," Sullyoon screams before she sees her mother right beside her and gets shy as the fucking session comes to a halt.

"You really like your father's cock, don't you, YoonA?" Sana asks her daughter. "My, what?" Sullyoon asks, confused. "Your father," Sana answers. "Mom, you must be joking," she replies to Sana. "No, I'm not, I know it's hard to resist but you really need to contain the impulses of fucking your father," Sana answers.

"Are you really my father or is she joking?" Sullyoon asks you.

"Yes, YoonA, I am your father," you affirmatively answer, only to receive a very unexpected answer from your daughter.

"That's so hot."

#sullyoon smut #sana smut #nmixx smut #twice smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

2K notes · View notes

kpoplustzone · 1 month ago

Text

Nayeon Smut - Sneaky Christmas

OC X NAYEON

More stories on Kofi - Link

The first time Nayeon walked into the room, it was like a spotlight had suddenly been turned on. Even knowing my brother was dating someone famous, actually seeing Nayeon in person was a completely different experience. The woman was breathtaking. The kind of beautiful that makes your jaw drop and your thoughts stutter. And not just regular celebrity beautiful – this was Nayeon from TWICE beautiful, the idol whose smile could melt glaciers and whose visuals were constantly praised across South Korea. She had that unique charm, that infectious cheerfulness that everyone adored, and seeing it up close, along with her undeniably sexy body right there in front of me, was almost overwhelming.

My brother introduced her, his arm casually draped around her shoulder, and my eyes couldn’t help but scan her from head to toe. She was wearing a simple but stylish outfit – tight jeans that hugged every curve of her shapely legs and a fitted top that showcased her perky breasts beautifully. Even in casual wear, her star power was undeniable, a radiant aura that seemed to emanate from her.

Her face, even without the stage makeup, was stunning. Those bright, captivating eyes that always sparkled in photos were even more mesmerizing in person, framed by long, dark lashes. Her nose was perfectly sculpted, and then there was that signature bunny smile, wide and infectious, revealing her cute front teeth. It was a smile that could instantly disarm you, making you feel comfortable and at ease, even as your brain struggled to process the fact that you were standing in front of one of the most beloved idols in Korea.

But it wasn't just her face. Nayeon’s body was just as captivating. The fitted top emphasized the roundness and perkiness of her breasts. They weren’t overly large, but perfectly proportioned, the kind that looked soft and inviting. You could tell she worked hard to maintain her figure; there was a subtle firmness, a toned quality that spoke of countless hours of dance practice.

Her jeans hugged her legs like a second skin, showcasing their slender yet shapely form. Her thighs were smooth and toned, leading down to delicate ankles. And then there was her ass. Even through denim, you could tell it was perfectly rounded and firm, the kind that would look incredible bouncing in a short skirt on stage. The way she moved, there was a natural grace and a subtle sway to her hips that hinted at a playful sensuality.

Standing there, witnessing her beauty and her undeniable sex appeal firsthand, it was hard to reconcile the sweet, cheerful image she projected with the undeniably desirable woman standing before me. She was a walking, talking fantasy, the kind of woman who made your imagination run wild with all the naughty possibilities. And she was my brother’s girlfriend. The thought sent a strange mix of disbelief and a flicker of something else, something a little forbidden, through my mind. This was going to be an interesting dynamic, to say the least. Just seeing her that first time, the details of her incredibly sexy body imprinted in my mind, it was clear that Nayeon was a different breed of celebrity, a true icon of beauty and allure

Nayeon’s charm had worked its magic on my family, just as it did on millions of fans. Her cheerful personality and that dazzling smile had them completely smitten from the first meeting. When she left after two days, the house felt strangely empty, a little less bright. I hadn't said much, a combination of shyness and being utterly awestruck keeping me mostly quiet.

But a week later, Christmas arrived, and with it, Nayeon. This time, she came bearing gifts, her arms laden with beautifully wrapped packages. And her outfit… it was something else entirely. She was wearing a pair of incredibly short denim shorts that showcased every glorious inch of her toned thighs and a fitted t-shirt that did little to conceal the perky shape of her breasts. Every curve, every delicious line of her figure was on full display. I felt my mouth go dry as I drank in her beauty, trying my best to appear nonchalant.

My brother, caught up in the whirlwind of family festivities, was soon occupied with other relatives. To my utter delight, Nayeon announced that she would be staying the entire weekend at our place. A thrill shot through me. Two whole days with Nayeon in the house? The possibilities, my imagination whispered, were endless. My cock immediately stirred at the thought. I tried to play it cool, busying myself with wrapping last-minute presents and helping my mom in the kitchen, but my eyes kept finding their way back to Nayeon. The way her shorts rode up her incredible ass when she bent over, the subtle sway of her hips as she walked, the way her t-shirt stretched across her chest, hinting at the treasures beneath… it was a constant assault on my senses. This weekend was going to be interesting, to say the least. Just the anticipation of having her in the house, knowing she was just a room away, was enough to keep my cock hard all day. I couldn't wait to see what the next few days would bring, hoping for any opportunity to get closer to this incredible woman.

It wasn't just her overall beauty; it was the subtle things she did, the almost imperceptible gestures that made me wonder if she was intentionally teasing me. Every time she was near me, it felt like a playful dance on the edge of something more.

For instance, we were in the living room, helping my mom decorate the Christmas tree. I was sitting on the floor, trying to untangle a string of lights, when Nayeon bent down to pick up a box of ornaments right in front of me. Her t-shirt, which was already quite fitted, stretched taut across her chest. And as she leaned forward, the neckline dipped just low enough for me to catch a glimpse underneath. My breath hitched. I could clearly see the outline of her bare breasts, the subtle curve and the darker circle of her areola, with only a small, round pastie covering her nipple. It was a fleeting glimpse, gone as quickly as it appeared, but it was enough to send a jolt of heat straight to my groin, my cock instantly hardening against my jeans. I couldn't help but wonder if she knew exactly what she was doing, if that slight dip of her shirt was deliberate. She didn't look at me, just smiled cheerfully as she handed the box to my mom, acting as if nothing had happened. But the image of her partially exposed breasts was burned into my mind.

Another time, we were all in the kitchen, getting snacks. I was reaching for a bag of chips on a high shelf, and Nayeon was bending down to get something from the lower cabinet right in front of me. Her shorts, already incredibly short, rode up even further as she squatted down, giving me an eyeful of her incredible ass. The denim was tight against her rounded cheeks, highlighting the deep cleft. I could see the smooth, pale skin of her thighs, almost all the way up to where the shorts ended. It felt like she was intentionally presenting her perfect backside to me, an offering I couldn't help but stare at. My cock, still remembering the glimpse of her breasts earlier, sprang to attention once more. She stayed in that position for what felt like an eternity, humming to herself as she rummaged through the cabinet. When she finally stood up, she turned around, smiled brightly at me, and grabbed her snack, again completely oblivious-or – or so it seemed–to the effect her actions were having on me.

These little instances kept happening throughout the day. A casual stretch that lifted her t-shirt just enough to reveal a sliver of her toned stomach, a playful twirl that made her shorts swing, and offered a fleeting glimpse of the curve of her inner thigh. Each time, it felt like a deliberate tease, a subtle game she was playing, knowing exactly how her body affected me. My pants felt tighter and tighter as the day wore on, my cock constantly thick and hard, a testament to her unintentional – or perhaps intentional – seduction. The anticipation of spending the entire weekend with her was building to a fever pitch

my father and mother were making a video call to my brother and I was also in the frame when nayeon stood in front of me very close and I could even smell her and her ass right in front of my cock. she was smiling at my brother and talking about something but my body froze when something touched my cock.

My body went rigid, every muscle tensing as Nayeon’s hand, soft yet firm, closed around my cock through the fabric of my shorts. The unexpected touch sent a jolt of pure electricity through me. My eyes darted downwards, confirming the impossible. Her fair hand was indeed there, subtly but deliberately stroking the growing hardness beneath her fingers.

My gaze shot back up to Nayeon, my heart hammering against my ribs. Her face was still turned towards the phone, her expression bright and cheerful as she continued her conversation with my brother, completely unfazed. The contrast between her innocent demeanor and the incredibly bold act she was performing just inches from my parents’ view on the video call was mind-blowing.

Her fingers continued their teasing assault, gently squeezing and releasing, her thumb finding and flicking the sensitive head of my cock. I bit my lip hard to suppress the groan that threatened to erupt from my throat. The sensations were intense, almost unbearable, especially given the precarious situation. My parents and brother were right there, virtually present, completely oblivious to the erotic intimacy unfolding right under their noses.

I could smell her perfume, a sweet, floral scent that was now inextricably linked to this illicit touch. Her ass, still tantalizingly close to my crotch, felt like it was radiating a heat of its own. My cock was now fully erect, straining against the confines of my shorts, throbbing with a desperate need.

Nayeon’s strokes became a little bolder, a little more insistent. She subtly shifted her hand, her fingers now working their way down the length of my shaft, her thumb continuing its playful flicking of the head. I could feel the warmth of her hand through the thin fabric, the pressure building with each deliberate movement. It was torture, exquisite torture. I wanted to pull away, to break the contact, but at the same time, the thrill of the forbidden, the sheer audacity of her actions, kept me rooted to the spot, my body completely at her mercy.

She let out a soft giggle at something my brother said on the call, and the movement of her body caused her hand to press even more firmly against my hardening cock. A low moan almost escaped my lips, and I had to clench my jaw even tighter to keep it contained. The risk of being caught, the scandal it would cause, flashed through my mind, but the arousal was so powerful, so all-consuming, that all rational thought seemed to evaporate.

Her fingers then started to dance, mimicking the movements of someone playing a tiny, secret instrument. Her thumb continued its teasing exploration of the head, while her other fingers rhythmically stroked the shaft. The pace varied, sometimes slow and sensual, sometimes quick and frantic, each change designed to maximize the pleasure-or – or perhaps the torture–she was inflicting. I could feel the precum starting to leak, dampening the fabric of my shorts around my straining cock.

The video call seemed to stretch on endlessly, each passing moment an exercise in restraint and barely contained lust. Nayeon continued to laugh and chat, her hand работая with a focused intensity that belied her cheerful facade. I could feel my face flushing, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. I was teetering on the edge, one wrong move, one uncontrolled groan, and the whole situation could explode.

The moment the video call ended and my parents turned away, Nayeon’s hand snapped back as if a live wire had shocked her. She gave me a sly, knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. I quickly sat down on the sofa, angling my body so the obvious tent in my shorts wouldn't be too noticeable as my parents headed into the kitchen, their backs to us, already chatting about the call.

From the sofa, I had a clear view of them working at the counter, the clinking of dishes, and the murmur of their voices filling the air. Nayeon sat down beside me, close enough that our thighs were almost touching. She leaned back, seemingly relaxed, but her gaze kept flicking downwards, settling on my still-prominent hard-on.

“You were checking me out pretty hard that first day, weren’t you?” she whispered, her voice a low, breathy purr that sent shivers down my spine. “I noticed. A girl always knows.” She looked up at my face, her smile widening. “And I see you’re… still impressed.” Her eyes dropped again to my crotch, lingering there for a moment before flicking back up to mine.

My cheeks flushed, and I mumbled something incoherent, trying to play it cool.

Nayeon chuckled softly, a sound that was both innocent and incredibly seductive. “Don’t be shy,” she said, her fingers tracing a light path across my arm. “I don’t bite… unless you want me to.” Her gaze intensified, and I could feel the heat radiating from her.

Her fingers then moved a little lower, brushing against my leg, dangerously close to the bulge in my shorts. “That’s quite a reaction I seem to have on you,” she murmured, her voice laced with a playful arrogance. “It’s… thick, isn’t it?” She didn’t wait for a response, her fingers now daringly close to the seam of my shorts.

My breath hitched. My parents were just a few feet away, completely engrossed in washing dishes, and here was Nayeon, my brother’s girlfriend, openly talking about my hard cock and teasing me with her touch. The risk of being caught, the sheer audacity of her actions, was incredibly arousing.

She leaned in closer, her lips just inches from my ear. “I saw you looking at my boobs earlier too,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a dirty, seductive tone. “Did you like what you saw?” Her hand then slipped beneath the hem of my t-shirt, her fingers lightly grazing my stomach, slowly inching their way downwards.

I could barely breathe, my heart pounding in my chest. “Nayeon…” I started, my voice a shaky whisper.

She placed a finger against my lips, silencing me. “Shhh,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Our little secret.” Her hand continued its downward journey, and then, with a bold move, her fingers closed around the undeniable hardness straining against my shorts.

A gasp escaped my lips, and I instinctively tensed. Her grip was surprisingly firm, her fingers gently squeezing and releasing. I glanced towards the kitchen, my parents still oblivious, their backs to us.

Nayeon’s smile widened, and she leaned in even closer, her breasts brushing against my arm. “You’re so hard,” she murmured, her thumb now tracing the outline of my cock head through the fabric. “I bet you’ve been thinking about me all week, haven’t you?”

I could only nod, my throat too tight to speak. The sensations were overwhelming; the forbidden thrill of her touch in such a public yet private setting was driving me wild.

Nayeon’s fingers, having danced with tantalizing restraint, finally slipped beneath the elastic of my shorts, the cool touch of her skin against mine sending another wave of pure anticipation coursing through me. With a slow, deliberate pull, she lowered the fabric just enough to liberate my straining cock. It sprang free, thick and heavy, greeted by the cool air of the living room. Nayeon’s breath hitched as she gazed down at it, her beautiful eyes widening in what seemed like genuine admiration. A soft, almost reverent sigh escaped her lips as her hand, now bolder, reached out to cradle its weight.

Her touch was electric, the soft warmth of her palm a stark contrast to the throbbing heat emanating from my engorged member. She ran her fingers slowly up the smooth skin, her touch feather-light yet undeniably firm, as if she were acquainting herself with every inch. Her gaze remained fixed on my cock, her expression a captivating blend of curiosity and undisguised desire. Then, her fingers tightened slightly, her grip becoming more possessive as she explored its impressive girth.

I held my breath, every nerve ending in my body tingling with anticipation. The sounds of my parents chatting and the gentle clinking of dishes from the nearby kitchen seemed to amplify the silence between Nayeon and me, a stark reminder of the precariousness of our clandestine encounter.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Nayeon leaned forward, her radiant face drawing closer to my exposed cock. My heart hammered against my ribs, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. Her lips parted slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her pink tongue. And then, with a slow, deliberate grace, she took the head of my cock into her mouth.

The initial contact was a shock of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloping me sent a jolt straight to my core, igniting a fire that spread rapidly through my veins. I bit down hard on my lip, desperately trying to stifle the involuntary groan that threatened to erupt from my throat. The fear of being discovered warred with the overwhelming sensation of her lips and tongue working their magic on me.

Nayeon’s suction was gentle at first, a soft, teasing exploration, her tongue tracing delicate circles around the sensitive corona. But then, she deepened her hold, taking more of me in, her lips closing tightly, creating a vacuum that sent shivers down my spine. Her cheeks hollowed slightly with each downward motion, and I could feel her warm breath against my skin, adding another layer of intense sensation.

Her head bobbed rhythmically, her dark hair swaying gently against my thighs, a visual testament to the incredible act she was performing. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my knuckles turning white as I fought to remain still, to keep my pleasure from becoming too obvious. The sounds from the kitchen seemed to mock my attempts at stealth, every clink and clatter amplifying the forbidden intimacy of the moment.

She was a natural, her mouth работая me with an intuitive understanding of what felt best. Her tongue flicked and swirled, exploring every inch of the head, paying special attention to the frenulum, that incredibly sensitive ridge beneath the tip. The sensation was electrifying, making my hips want to buck uncontrollably. She then slid her lips further down, taking more and more of my shaft into her warm, wet haven. I could feel the velvety softness of her tongue caressing my skin, the rhythmic pressure of her suction building with each stroke. Her throat worked visibly as she went deeper, taking me almost to the base, and then slowly sliding back up, repeating the process with a practiced expertise that left me breathless and aching for more.

My gaze was fixed on her face, just inches away. Her eyes were closed, her expression one of pure concentration and sensual enjoyment, a stark contrast to her usual bright and cheerful demeanor. Her lips glistened with my saliva, and the way she was so completely focused on pleasuring me, seemingly oblivious to the immense risk of discovery, was incredibly arousing. Her perky breasts, still partially visible above the neckline of her t-shirt, bounced ever so slightly with the motion of her head, a tantalizing distraction that only added to my mounting arousal.

She varied her technique, her pace shifting from a slow, sensual glide to a quicker, more urgent rhythm, always keeping me teetering on the precipice of control. She used her hands too, gently stroking the underside of my shaft, her fingers occasionally brushing against my swollen balls, sending shockwaves of delight through my body. She explored the textures, the veins, the sheer length and thickness of me with a focused intensity that was incredibly flattering and undeniably erotic.

She then did something that sent a jolt of pure fire through my veins. As she slid her mouth down my shaft, her fingers tightened around the base, gently tugging as her lips reached the head again. The combination of the deep suction and the gentle pull was almost unbearable, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. I bit down harder on my lip, my body tensing, every muscle screaming for release.

The sounds from the kitchen seemed to fade into the background as my world narrowed to the incredible sensations Nayeon was creating. Her mouth was a warm, wet vortex, and I was being pulled into its depths, each stroke bringing me closer to the point of no return. The risk, the thrill, the undeniable pleasure – it was an intoxicating combination, a secret indulgence happening right under the noses of my unsuspecting parents

My blood ran cold as my mom’s voice cut through the haze of pleasure. “Where’s Nayeon, sweetheart? I thought she was here with you.” My eyes snapped open, my heart leaping into my throat. Panic surged through me. My parents were turning, their gazes sweeping towards the sofa.

Without thinking, my hands shot out, grabbing the throw blanket that was draped over the back of the sofa. In one swift motion, I tossed it over Nayeon, completely covering her head and the lower part of her body that was currently работая on my cock. From their perspective, it would just look like I was lying down, perhaps even taking a nap, with only my head and shoulders visible above the blanket.

“Oh, she… she just went to the restroom, Mom,” I stammered out, my voice cracking slightly. I tried to sound casual, but the lie felt thick and heavy in the air. My eyes darted nervously towards the kitchen, watching my parents’ reactions.

Thankfully, my mom just nodded, seemingly satisfied with my explanation. “Okay, honey. Just let her know lunch will be ready soon.” She turned back to the counter, resuming her conversation with my dad.

Underneath the sheet, Nayeon’s ministrations continued, completely unfazed by the near-disaster. If anything, the added risk seemed to fuel her boldness. Her tongue left the head of my cock and trailed down, licking the smooth skin of my shaft before focusing on my balls. The sensation of her warm, wet tongue enveloping my testicles was intense, making me twitch uncontrollably. She then moved higher, her lips and tongue работая the base of my cock, where it met my groin, the pressure and suction almost unbearable in their exquisite intensity.

I clenched my fists even tighter, my body trembling as I fought to remain silent. The contrast between the innocent conversation happening just a few feet away and the incredibly depraved act unfolding under the blanket was mind-blowing. I could feel the heat rising in my face, and I prayed my parents wouldn’t notice my flushed complexion.

Nayeon’s tongue continued its tantalizing assault, her breath hot and moist against my skin. She was exploring every inch, every nerve ending, driving me further and further towards the edge of sanity. The rhythmic sucking and slurping sounds were thankfully muffled by the blanket, but I was still terrified that my own involuntary moans would give us away.

Nayeon’s head emerged slowly from beneath the sheet, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Her lips were still wet, glistening with the remnants of my precum, which she delicately wiped away with a finger. That same sly smile played on her lips as she brought her finger to her mouth, savoring the taste with a satisfied hum. This stunning woman was teasing me relentlessly, pushing the boundaries of what I thought was possible.

With a fluid movement, she straddled me, her knees pressing against either side of my thighs. She leaned down, grabbing the front of my t-shirt and pulling my face closer to hers. “I want your cock inside me,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire, her breath hot against my ear.

“Nayeon, my parents are right there,” I managed to say, my voice a strained whisper, glancing nervously towards the kitchen where my parents were still washing dishes, oblivious to the erotic drama unfolding just a few feet away.

She just chuckled, a low, throaty sound that vibrated against my chest. “They won’t hear us,” she insisted, her eyes blazing with a raw, unadulterated lust. “I’m too horny to wait any longer.” Her grip on my shirt tightened, and she pulled me closer, her body pressing against mine. I could feel the soft warmth of her pussy just inches away.

Without waiting for my response, she pushed me back against the cushions of the sofa, angling her body so that my parents, if they were to glance over, would only see her sitting on top of me. My upper body was now lower, mostly obscured by the back of the sofa, while she was positioned perfectly to block their view of what was happening beneath her.

My cock, still throbbing from her expert mouth work, strained upwards, eager to fulfill her desire. Nayeon reached down, her fingers finding the waistband of my still-lowered shorts. With a swift movement, she pushed them down further, giving her unobstructed access. Her touch was sure and confident as she guided my hard cock towards her wet entrance.

I felt the slick warmth of her pussy lips as the head of my penis nudged against them. She let out a soft moan, her hips tilting slightly as she positioned herself. Then, slowly, deliberately, she began to lower herself onto me. I gasped as she took me inch by agonizing inch, her tight muscles clenching around my shaft. She went all the way down, until I was buried deep inside her, the feeling of her hot, wet embrace sending waves of pure ecstasy through me.

Nayeon leaned forward, resting her hands on my chest, her eyes locking with mine. That playful smile was back, now tinged with a primal satisfaction. “See? They can’t see a thing,” she whispered, her hips beginning to rock gently. “And they definitely can’t hear this.” Her moans started soft and low, escalating with each slide of her body against mine,

Nayeon’s hips began to move in a slow, sensual grind, her tight pussy muscles clenching and releasing around my hard cock. I looked up at her face, her cheeks slightly flushed, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple. She was biting her lip, her eyes darting occasionally towards the kitchen, a clear effort to suppress the moans that were building within her.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she whispered, a naughty smile gracing her lips. Her hands gripped my shoulders, pulling herself closer, her breasts pressing firmly against my chest. I could feel her heartbeat racing, mirroring my own frantic pulse.

“Unbelievable,” I managed to whisper back, my gaze tracing the curve of her neck down to the tantalizing view of her cleavage. Being inside her, feeling her hot and wet around me, with the risk of my parents walking in at any moment, was an incredible rush.

She increased the pace of her movements, her hips rocking with a more insistent rhythm. Soft whimpers escaped her lips, quickly stifled as she glanced towards the kitchen. I could see my mom turn slightly, and Nayeon immediately broke eye contact with me, smiling sweetly in the direction of the kitchen.

“Everything alright there, honey?” my mom asked, her voice carrying from the other room.

“Yes, aunty,” Nayeon replied, her voice perfectly normal and cheerful. “Just admiring your lovely Christmas decorations!” She then looked back down at me, her eyes blazing with renewed desire, and resumed her sensual riding, her moans now barely audible breaths against my ear.

The contrast was surreal. One moment she was the picture of innocent politeness, charming my mother, and the next, she was straddling me, her hot pussy grinding against my cock with a primal intensity. It was incredibly arousing.

From my position beneath her, my view of her body was intoxicating. Her t-shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her toned stomach. Her breasts, now moving more freely with her riding, bounced gently, their hard nipples peeking out from under the fabric. I reached up and gently cupped one in my hand, feeling its softness and the immediate hardening of her nipple. She let out a soft gasp, quickly muffling it with a hand pressed against her mouth.

Her riding became more vigorous, her hips lifting higher with each thrust, giving me a deeper, more satisfying penetration. I could feel her wetness coating my cock, the friction building with every stroke. The sounds of our bodies coming together – the soft thud of her ass against my lap, her muffled moans, my own suppressed groans – were a secret symphony of pleasure.

Suddenly, my dad walked to the doorway of the kitchen, looking into the living room. Nayeon immediately stilled her movements, her smile turning into a wide, innocent grin as she looked at him.

“Having a nice chat, you two?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over us.

“Yes, Uncle,” Nayeon said brightly. “Just catching up. It’s so nice to finally have a quiet moment.” She subtly shifted her weight, pressing down on me, her pussy squeezing my cock tightly. I had to bite back a groan.

“Well, don’t be strangers. Dinner will be ready in about half an hour.” He gave us a warm smile and then headed back into the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, Nayeon’s smile turned wicked. “That was close,” she whispered, her hips immediately resuming their passionate rhythm. “But it just makes it even more exciting, doesn’t it?” Her pace quickened, her moans becoming louder, her head thrown back, her body completely surrendered to the pleasure. I could feel her nearing another climax, her inner muscles clenching tighter and tighter around my cock. The forbidden thrill of the situation, the intense pleasure of being inside her, and the constant risk of discovery – it was all combining to create an experience I would never forget.

Nayeon’s breath hitched as her orgasm began to build, her movements becoming more frantic, her hips grinding down on my cock with a desperate intensity. Her muffled cries grew louder, and I could feel her inner muscles clenching rhythmically, squeezing me tightly. Just as I felt myself teetering on the edge of my release, I heard footsteps approaching from the kitchen.

My heart leaped into my throat. My dad was coming back into the living room.

Nayeon’s eyes widened in panic. Without breaking our connection, she quickly shifted her position, sliding off me just enough to turn her body slightly. She then leaned forward, pretending to reach for a Christmas ornament that had fallen onto the floor beside the sofa. From the doorway, it would just look like she was bending down to pick something up.

“Is everything alright, you two?” my dad asked, his gaze sweeping over the room.

“Oh, yes, uncle,” Nayeon said, her voice perfectly steady, a sweet smile on her face as she held up the ornament. “Just admiring this pretty little reindeer. It must have fallen off the tree.”

My dad chuckled. “Careful, you don’t break it! Those are old family heirlooms.” He glanced at me, still lying on the sofa, trying to appear relaxed. “Everything good with you, son?”

I managed a weak nod, my face flushed, my heart still pounding. “Yeah, Dad. Just… admiring the decorations too.”

He smiled and headed back towards the kitchen. As soon as he was out of sight, Nayeon quickly straddled me again, her smile turning wicked. “That was a close one,” she whispered, her pussy immediately finding its home on my still-hard cock. “Made it even hotter, don’t you think?”

She didn’t wait for my reply, her hips immediately resuming their passionate rhythm. Her moans, which had been so carefully suppressed moments before, now escaped her lips more freely, though still muffled by her hand. Her riding became more frantic, her body bouncing on mine with unrestrained desire. I reached up and cupped her breasts, my thumbs teasing her hard nipples, eliciting sharp intakes of breath.

“You’re so naughty,” I whispered against her ear, my arousal reaching a fever pitch.

“Only for you,” she breathed back, her hips grinding down on me with a delicious force. “You like it, don’t you? Being bad with me?”

“More than anything,” I admitted, my fingers now trailing down her back, feeling the smooth skin beneath her t-shirt. I reached under the hem, my fingers finding the curve of her ass, gently squeezing the firm flesh. She moaned louder, her hips bucking in response

Driven by the feel of Nayeon’s incredibly tight pussy and her escalating moans, I increased the intensity of my thrusts, bucking my hips upwards to meet her downward ride. Her head was thrown back, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she gripped my shoulders tightly, her body trembling with the force of her impending climax. I could feel her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around my cock, squeezing and releasing with increasing urgency.

“Oh, fuck… I’m gonna come again…” she gasped out, her voice thick with pleasure. Her hips began to grind down on me with a desperate frenzy, her body arching and twisting as the waves of her second orgasm washed over her. Her muffled cries reached a fever pitch, a series of high-pitched whimpers and moans that were barely contained by her hand pressed against her mouth.

Just as she reached her peak, I felt my own body teetering on the edge. The intense friction of her tight pussy milking my cock, combined with the forbidden thrill of our clandestine encounter, pushed me over the point of no return. A deep groan rumbled in my chest as my own orgasm erupted, a torrent of hot cum shooting deep inside her, filling her completely. My body shuddered uncontrollably as I held her tight, our mingled breaths and cries the only sounds in the living room for a brief, suspended moment.

When the tremors of our shared climax finally subsided, Nayeon slowly eased off me, a blissful smile gracing her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes still glazed over with a dazed satisfaction. She adjusted her t-shirt, smoothing it down with a practiced hand, and then, with remarkable composure, turned towards the kitchen.

“aunty,” she called out sweetly, her voice sounding perfectly normal. “Is there anything I can help you with for dinner?”

I lay on the sofa, my heart still racing, watching her as she walked towards my parents. I had a clear view of her legs from my slightly lower vantage point. And as she moved, I saw it – a thick, milky stream of my cum slowly leaking from her pussy, tracing a path down her smooth, fair thighs. It was a blatant, undeniable testament to our secret, passionate encounter, a visual reminder of the raw intimacy we had just shared, right under the noses of my unsuspecting parents. The sight sent another wave of heat pooling in my groin, a silent promise of more to come lingering in the air.

447 notes · View notes

03den · 4 months ago

Text

bfhamzah headcanons - part 2 ( gnreader )

a.n: my god i was not expecting allat on my first post, thank uuu sm have some more fun w my rambling (slightly suggestive & reader is referred to as gf/wife)

part 1

in part one i briefly talked about how hamzah texts you a lot, and i stand my ground on that. he def spams you with the most random things. if he encounters a funny thing on the street, he immediately takes his phone out and sends you a photo. wait, did hamzah just thought about a really bad joke that is not funny in the slightest? he's proudly texting you it with no context at all. sometimes you're sitting in the same room, both on your silent phone time, and he's just repeatedly sending you brainrot reels, laughing to himself. oh, and you better watch them and the tiktoks he sends you, because he will reference them later and be dramatic about it if you don't understand it. "hi im ol- ol- oliver" "what?" "you don't know what i'm talking about? babe, no. i literally sent you the og tiktok!" ohh he's going to be salty about it.

onto that, i don't think he's the biggest pet name user. i think he prefers to call you by a nickname only he has for you—he thinks it makes him more special. once, martin tried to call you by that same nickname during a video, and hamzah just side eyed him and went "dude, no. stop.” occasionally, he will call you babe or baby in situations where he's attention seeking, half-asleep, high, trying to win your affection back after pestering you for too long... but that's also what he calls you during those moments, when his mind is foggy with different thoughts, and constant stimulation steal his ability to self-control. anything other than babe or baby, i can see it lowkey making him cringe

something corny that def doesn't make him cringe though is matching clothes—oh, this man loves it. and i don't mean subtle matching. yk those iconic t-shirts hamzah and martin constantly wear? the ones he buys to match with you are like that—white t-shirt with black letters saying 'i think they're hot' with an arrow each pointing to different sides. he for sure has asked you to wear that shirt with him for a youtube video, and made you sit so the arrow on his shirt pointed to you, and yours to him. has bought himself the ‘i love my gf’ black hoodie and wears the ‘i don't need an encyclopedia my wife knows it all’ t-shirt more often now that you're dating. don’t worry tho he let's you choose normal matching clothes as well

he can be a very silly bf, specially in public where he feels too exposed to be vulnerable, however, deep down he’s so so sweet, so caring. mumbled confessions against your neck late at night, hamzah tells you things weighted with such love it puts you under some daze. it’s not so easy for him to be in such vulnerable state, his words come out messy and shy, but the fact he tries nonetheless gives his voice a certain rawness—there’s no room for you to doubt his words

his heartfelt ‘i love you’s are always heard during these moments. repeated over and over, in between kisses, one no more genuine than the other. hamzah feels every word in ‘i love you’, and so do you, so they’re more reserved for times like these. that doesn't mean you ever separate ways without a quick "love you" with a peck though, that's an essential for him.

you are so important to hamzah, like actually so important it’s in everything he does. it’s in the way he does his groceries thinking about what you’d want, in case you come over; it’s in the way every other concern is pushed aside the moment he sees you; it’s in the way his house is covered in evidence of your presence; and in how he cannot stop posting you—be it on tiktok, youtube, or wtv

something else the fans noticed during a video is how he keeps a polaroid of you two on his phone case—a selfie of you next to each other, camera too close to your faces but that still managed to capture your laughing fit and his grin. it’s cute, and even tho it was a moment between js the two of you, the picture clearly conveys the love you have for each other.

after some time dating, youtube gets flooded with compilations of your relationship. ‘hamzah annoying name for 15 minutes straight’. ‘every clip of Hamzah being absolutely in love WARNING: long video.’ ‘moments where name and hamzah openly flirted in front of the camera.’

extras!

literally had no idea on what to put on the brainrot line.. i havent been keeping up w brainrot also im so obsessed with every photo of him included in this post

#🗻.hamzah #🗻.headcanons #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah the fantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah fluff #hamzah smau #hamzah fic #hamzah hc #hamzah imagines #slushy noobz #slushy virus #4freakshow #out of character podcast

605 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

Legends Never Die

Carlos Sainz x Senna!Reader

Summary: sometimes the hole in your heart left behind by the passing of your father becomes almost too much to bear, but Carlos and his family never fail to ease the ache

Brazilian Grand Prix, 2023

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you step out onto the podium at Interlagos after winning your home race — the Brazilian Grand Prix — for McLaren.

You wave to the sea of fans, trying to keep your emotions in check. But it’s impossible. Everywhere you look there are reminders of your father.

Fans wave Brazilian flags emblazoned with his iconic yellow and green helmet. Others wear t-shirts bearing his name and race number. Signs reading “Senna Forever” make your chest tighten.

He’s everywhere … except where you need him most. In your memories.

You were just a baby when he died in that fateful accident at Imola in 1994. You only know the sound of his voice through crackling video footage, his infectious smile from yellowing photographs. But you don’t actually remember him. Your own father, the man whose immense legacy you carry on your shoulders each time you slide into the cockpit of a Formula 1 car.

By the time the national anthem plays and the champagne corks pop, you can barely see through the tears welling in your eyes. You blink them back rapidly, hoping the cameras don’t pick up on your emotional state. As soon as the ceremony ends, you practically run off the podium, heading straight for the sanctuary of your driver’s room.

You barely make it through the door before the sobs start wracking your body. You sink down onto the couch, drawing your knees up and burying your face in your hands as the tears flow freely.

How can you feel so alone when surrounded by so many who loved him?

A soft knock at the door cuts through your cries. You know immediately who it is without having to ask.

“Come in,” you manage to choke out, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks.

The door opens and there’s Carlos, looking concerned but unsurprised to find you in this state. Of course he knows. By now, he can likely sense when these waves of emotion are about to crash over you.

Carlos crosses the room and settles onto the couch, gathering you into his arms. You immediately curl against his chest, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. One of his hands comes up to soothingly stroke your hair as the other rubs circles across your back.

“Let it out, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here.”

The gentleness in his voice is your undoing. You let out a gasping sob, tears soaking through the material of his firesuit as you finally allow yourself to unravel completely in his embrace.

“I-I don’t remember him,” you hiccup between harsh breaths. “I w-won my home race and all I could see out there were ghosts. He was everywhere b-but in my own mind!”

“Shh, I know,” Carlos soothes, rubbing your back. “I know it hurts, mi vida. But he’s here.” He places his palm over your heart. “Your dad lives in here, just like you live in his.”

You lift your head, seeking out his warm brown eyes through your tear-blurred vision. “How can you be so sure? I don’t have a single first-hand memory of him. I know Ayrton Senna the legend, but not my own father.”

A small, sad smile tugs at the corner of Carlos’s lips. “Because that’s how it is for all of us who didn’t get the chance to really know him.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear trailing down your cheek. “We keep him alive in our hearts through the way he inspired us, the lives he touched without ever realizing it. And for you ...” His expression turns amazed, eyes shining with an emotion you can’t quite place. “For you, he’s here.” He runs his hands over the sides of your body, splaying his fingers wide. “A part of him lives on, in you and through you each time you drive. You embody everything he represented behind the wheel — passion, adrenaline, an unquenchable desire to be the best. That’s your father’s legacy beating within you.”

You stare at him, trying to make sense of the jumbled tempest of feelings swirling inside you. Part of you wants to protest, to insist your longing for a tangible connection to your father can’t be satisfied by philosophical musing.

And yet … Carlos’ words reverberate within you, striking a chord. You think of the split-second decision making, the fearless way you attack corners, your refusal to ever give any less than your full effort.

Those are all traits you’ve been told time and time again you inherited from Ayrton. And maybe Carlos is right — maybe that is how you’ll know him best in this life.

Slowly, you reach up to cradle Carlos’ face in your palms, searching his caring gaze. “How did I get so lucky?” You whisper, a few rogue tears spilling over. “To have someone who understands me, understands this hole in my life, and loves me enough to fill it as best he can?”

The look of utter adoration on Carlos’ face steals your breath. Gently, he leans in to capture your lips in the softest, sweetest of kisses. The tenderness, the depth of emotion in that one simple gesture is enough to make your knees go weak.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I’m the lucky one, mi amor,” he murmurs, the words ghosting across your lips. “To be loved by you ...” He shakes his head slowly in seeming awe of you. “You make me feel blessed every day just by letting me share in your existence.”

You let out a watery laugh, rolling your eyes but unable to fight the giddy smile blooming across your face. Trust Carlos to somehow make you feel like the luckiest, most special person in the world after you’ve just spent who knows how long crying on his shoulder.

“You big sap,” you tease, booping him on the nose. You search his expression, your chest filling with warmth at the laughter lines crinkling around his eyes. “I love you, you know that right?”

The words hang there, heavy and significant. You realize you’ve never actually said them before, not with such simple yet loaded sincerity.

From the look of surprise and unbridled joy that overtakes Carlos’ features, he realizes it too. His hands come up to cradle your face, fingers threading through your hair as he holds you tenderly.

“Mi alma ...” he breathes out reverently. “Te amo, mi vida. I love you with all my heart.”

The depth of emotion in his voice, the Spanish words of love and adoration tumbling from his lips, it’s all too much. You surge forward, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss as the last of your tears, these born of happiness and love rather than sorrow, streak down your cheeks.

Carlos kisses you back with an intensity that leaves you lightheaded. His fingers tighten almost possessively in your hair as the kiss deepens, growing more heated and passionate. You’re vaguely aware of him shifting until you’re nearly in his lap, bodies aligned and thrumming with a very different kind of electricity than you’re used to on the track.

Eventually, the need for air becomes too insistent to ignore. You break apart, both of you panting heavily. Carlos’ lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown wide. He looks like a man thoroughly ravished.

You can’t help the impish grin. “So I take it you feel the same way?”

His laugh is low and gravelly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh mi amor ...” he rumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours. “You have no idea.”

You bite your lip, about to suggest taking this celebration elsewhere more private. But a new thought suddenly occurs, giving you pause. Slowly, almost shyly, you meet his heated gaze.

“Carlos … do you really think he would be proud of me?” The uncertainty in your voice is painfully obvious. “My father, I mean. You think he’s ...” You swallow hard. “You think he’s watching over me and approving of the person I’ve become?”

The seriousness of your question douses some of the blazing desire in Carlos’ eyes. But it’s quickly replaced by a look of such fierce conviction, such affection for you, it makes your breath catch.

“Cariño,” he begins, voice thick with emotion as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “Your father was the embodiment of passion and integrity in the pursuit of greatness. On the track, he gave everything. He put his heart and soul into being the best driver, the best competitor he could be. And that’s exactly what I see when I watch you race.”

Carlos leans in, resting his forehead against yours as his fingers tenderly trace the line of your jaw. “You drive with the same fire, the same refusal to let anything less than your full ability shine through. And off the track?” He lets out a soft huff of laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, let’s just say the determination, the sheer force of will I see in you would make any parent proud.”

You bite your lip, struggling against the swell of emotion building in your chest at his words. “Really? You don’t think he’d be … disappointed? That I’m not living up to his legacy or-”

“Hey.” Carlos cuts you off firmly, holding your gaze. “Your father didn’t just leave a legacy of winning championships or setting records, mi amor. He left a legacy of spirit. Of personality. Of being a loving, passionate human being who inspired millions.” His thumb strokes along your cheekbone as his eyes shine with complete sincerity. “And let me tell you — in that way? You are so perfectly your father’s daughter it’s unreal.”

The tears that have been threatening finally spill over, but this time they are born of relief, of love and reassurance. You manage a watery smile, curling your hand around the back of Carlos’ neck to pull him close until your foreheads touch.

“Thank you,” you whisper fervently. “For understanding. For loving me through the shadows and the ghosts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His arms tighten around you, holding you flush against his body in an embrace filled with devotion. “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” he murmurs lowly, lips brushing tantalizingly against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

A delighted shiver runs through you at his tone, at the deliciously possessive edge to his promise. Shifting in his lap, you capture his lips in a searing kiss filled with all the love, the passion, the longing you’ve been holding at bay.

Carlos responds with equal fervor, one hand burying in your hair while the other maps searing paths across your back, your sides, pulling you ever closer until there’s no space between your bodies. The room seems to simultaneously tilt and burn away until there is only the two of you, tangled together in a heated spiral of want and need.

At some point, you become vaguely aware of Carlos rising to his feet, your legs winding instinctively around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. Your back presses against the nearest wall and you moan softly into his mouth at the delicious friction. His hands are everywhere, stoking the fire burning through your veins with every scorching caress.

Finally, and reluctantly, you pull your lips from his with a gasp. “Carlos … if we don’t get out of here soon, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen.”

He grins wolfishly at you, pupils blown wide with desire. “Is that a promise, mi amor?” His voice is low, gravelly, and sends sparks of pure hunger fluttering through your stomach.

Holding his heated gaze, you slowly drag your nails down the back of his neck in a deliberate tease, relishing the way his eyes darken even further. “Take me home, Carlos,” you purr, leaning in to brush your lips against his once more. “And I’ll show you just how promising I can be.”

His response is to capture your mouth in another bruising kiss, pressing you harder against the wall as a growl rumbles up from deep in his chest. Then, without warning, he’s turning and striding towards the door, carrying you easily as your legs remain locked around his waist.

Breathless with wanting, you finally pull away as he reaches for the doorknob, laughing softly. “I see someone’s eager.”

Carlos’s eyes gleam with pure, undisguised hunger as he looks at you over his shoulder. “For you, mi alma?” He leans in, lips hovering tantalizingly close as his beard brushes your tingling skin. “Always.”

With that, he’s swinging the door open and striding out into the hallway, completely uncaring of who might see. His focus, his entire world, is solely on you in this moment. Just as yours is on him.

As the adrenaline of victory fades and the ache of longing for your absent father eases into a dull, familiar ache, you’re reminded once more of the incredible gift you’ve been given.

Carlos’ love, his understanding and acceptance of every broken, yearning part of you is a blessing. One you vow never to take for granted.

Winding your arms securely around his neck, you let yourself get lost in the heat of his gaze, the depth of emotion shining there. And you realize — with him, you don’t feel so alone.

Even if your father isn’t here in person, some piece of him does live on. Not in memories or old recordings. But in the love you hold in your heart. The love you pour into everything you do, every dream you dare to chase. The love that connects you to Carlos so wholly.

Maybe, just maybe, your father is prouder than either of you can fathom as he watches the remarkable life you’ve created together unfold.

Smiling softly, you lean in to feather a kiss along the sharp line of Carlos’ jaw, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Take me home, meu amor.”

Australian Grand Prix, 2024

The podium ceremony is pure pandemonium. Carlos stands on the top step, beaming and cheering, having just claimed his first win of the new season. You’re on the second step beside him, arm raised in celebration of your own P2 finish. The energy from the crowd is electric, filling your veins with the same adrenaline rush as when you crossed the finish line.

You should be deliriously happy. Scoring such a strong result alongside your boyfriend at the third race is the dream start to your championship chase. And yet … something feels off. A strange melancholy tugs at the corner of your heart even as the champagne sprays and camera flashes bombard you from all angles.

Then you spot him — Carlos’ father, beaming at his son from the front of the crowd gathered below the podium. His chest is puffed out with undisguised pride, eyes crinkled at the corners behind his designer shades.

As you watch, father and son’s gazes meet and lock, and the sheer depth of emotion in that one look breaks something inside you.

Oh.

That’s what’s missing.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, stealing your breath. You barely register the Spanish national anthem playing as your eyes stay glued to the tender scene before you.

Carlos shooting his father a brilliant grin, chin dipping in acknowledgment of the pride shining through. Carlos Sr.’s face split by the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s such a simple gesture, but one utterly steeped in parental pride.

You should look away before it gets to be too much, but some masochistic part of you can’t tear your gaze from the heartwarming display. Seeing that effortless bond between father and son, witnessing their silent communication and affection laden with years of inside jokes and childhood memories … it awakens a hollow ache, one you’re terribly familiar with.

By the time the ceremony finally winds down, hot tears are stinging your eyes. You blink rapidly, ducking your head in hopes that the dark tint of your sunglasses conceals your fragile state. But of course, Carlos notices immediately.

He pauses mid-celebration, halfway through accepting some prize filled with the event sponsor’s product. Frowning, he leans in close under the pretense of thanking you for pushing him all the way. “Mi alma? What’s wrong?”

You nearly choke on your own breath at the naked concern in his voice. Trust Carlos to pick up on your inner turmoil even in the middle of what should be an incredibly joyous occasion. Steeling yourself, you manage a smile that you hope passes as genuine.

“Nothing, I’m just ...” Your excuse dies in your throat as you look past him towards the crowd once more.

Carlos Sr. is shouldering his way through the mass of staff and media, pushing towards his son. He’s waving and grinning from ear to ear as Carlos straightens up, delight overtaking his features. The second the older Sainz’s feet cross the barriers, Carlos drops everything and bounds over, hauling his father into a tight embrace.

They laugh and cheer as Carlos pumps a victorious fist in the air, the other arm wrapped securely around Carlos Sr. You can’t hear what they’re saying over the noise of the crowd, but it doesn’t matter. Their body language says it all.

Pride. Joy. Celebration. A bond forged in the fires of hardship and sacrifice, of a lifetime pursuing the most elite level of a deadly sport.

Father and son, reveling together in the sweetness of hard-earned success.

Your throat constricts painfully as you watch them, your own arms wrapping protectively around your middle. How many times had you dreamed of recreating this exact moment as a young girl? Crossing the chequered line in first place, only to be swept up in a boundless hug by a beaming, triumphant father?

You remember pretending with your childhood race cars, standing on an overturned bucket that served as your make-believe podium. You’d mimic the anthems and champagne sprays, then launch yourself off the “top step“ and into the arms of an imaginary Ayrton, dreaming about what it would feel like to bury your face in his shoulder as he swung you around, both of you dissolving into happy laughter as you celebrated together.

Of course, those were only childish fantasies even then. By the time you were old enough to understand racing, to grasp what your father did and meant to the world, he was already long gone. You never got the chance to make those podium daydreams a reality.

And you never would.

The harsh truth is like a bucket of ice water over your head. You’re vaguely aware of your sunglasses slipping down your nose as your eyes burn with unshed tears. Angrily, you blink them back, steeling your jaw.

Now is not the time.

You plaster on the brightest smile you can muster as Carlos and his father turn back towards you. Throwing propriety to the wind, Carlos Sr. comes up to engulf you in a tight hug, the scratch of barely-there stubble rasping against your cheek.

“Another stellar drive, mariposa,” he praises in his thick, warm accent as Carlos laughs in delight beside you. “Keeping this one on his toes, I see.”

Despite your fragile emotional state, you can’t help but grin at his spirit and affection. “Always,” you reply, squeezing him back firmly before pulling away to make room for Carlos.

Almost automatically, you take a step back to give them space. You have no wish to intrude on what should be their private moment together. And sure enough, no sooner have you retreated than Carlos is wrapping his arm around his father’s shoulders, guiding him towards the edge of the pit lane where Ferrari representatives are waiting.

You hang back, a sad smile playing across your lips as you watch them go. All the teasing and laughing, the play-fights and unbreakable bonds of family you wish you could have experienced for yourself play out in vivid detail before your eyes.

Off to the side, almost like an afterthought despite your place right beside him on the podium. Just … watching.

Slowly, you turn away, the roar of the fans and celebrations fading into the distance as you head up the ramp to the McLaren motorhome.

A thousand wistful memories drift through your mind. Muted footage of you as a newborn cradled in your father’s arms, grinning up at him in pure innocence and adoration. Photos of Ayrton gazing down at his infant daughter with a look of such unconditional love that it breaks you all over again.

No matter how many trophies you win or records you break, that will always be the one achievement he never had the chance to witness. You’ll never experience a father’s unadulterated pride at his child’s success.

Your breath hitches as you finally reach the solitude of your private room, sinking onto the plush sofa as the tears begin rolling in earnest. Who are you kidding? As much as Carlos and his family envelop you in their warmth, as much as you are unquestionably part of their clan now … there is always going to be an empty space in your heart where a father’s love should be.

You bury your face in your hands, ignoring the wet streaks smearing across your knuckles as you try in vain to compose yourself. You can’t be like this, falling apart every time. Carlos deserves to revel in one of the greatest wins of his career. He shouldn’t have to devote energy to consoling you, not after a spectacular drive like that.

A soft knock at the door startles you. Swiping hastily at your cheeks, you suck in a shuddering breath and call out. “Come in.”

The door opens, and of course, it’s Carlos. Because even in the midst of unbridled jubilation, he senses your inner turmoil. He steps inside, the happiness draining from his expression as he takes in your blotchy complexion and reddened eyes.

“Mi amor,” he breathes, crossing to you in two quick strides and gathering you into his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his sweat-damp race suit as he rubs soothing circles across your back. “Talk to me, cariño. What’s got you so upset, hmm?”

You want to explain, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you simply shake your head, a few errant tears slipping free to wet the material covering his shoulder. Carlos doesn’t push, just holds you close and lets you cry it out against him.

Eventually, you find your voice, thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your celebration like this. You should be out there enjoying your win, not consoling your mess of a girlfriend.”

“Hey now,” he chides gently, tipping your chin up to meet his concerned gaze. “None of that, mi alma. Your feelings are never something to apologize for.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear from your cheek. “I know today was … difficult. Seeing me with my dad, it brought up a lot of old hurts, didn’t it?”

You let out a watery chuckle, amazed as always by his intuition when it comes to your innermost struggles. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows and loves every facet of you,” he replies simply, stroking your hair back from your forehead. “Will you tell me? Let me in on what you’re feeling so I can try to understand?”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod and disentangle yourself enough to sit beside him on the couch. You keep one of his hands linked with yours, anchoring you as you gather your thoughts. “It’s just … out there on the podium, when I saw you and your dad together ...” You pause, blinking rapidly against a fresh swell of tears. “It reminded me all over again of what I’m missing. What I’ll never get to have.”

Carlos’ expression softens with understanding and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, silently urging you to continue. You draw strength from his presence beside you.

“You two have this … bond. This connection, like you’re the only ones who truly understand each other’s perspectives. And I’m envious, Carlos. So envious of the lifetime of love and memories that exists just in the silent communication between you.” You let out a mirthless chuckle, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “God, that sounds so pathetic when I say it out loud.”

“No, mi vida.” Carlos is firm, his eyes shining with sincerity. “Not pathetic at all. You’re allowed to feel that longing, that sadness over being deprived of something so integral.” His free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, calloused thumb stroking along your cheekbone. “You miss your dad. You mourn not having that relationship in your life. Those are entirely valid feelings to have, especially on days like this when I got to share my joy with my own father.”

You lean into his touch, fresh tears spilling over at his words as your breath hitches. “It’s like … no matter what I accomplish, no matter how successful I become, there will always be this hole.” Your hand comes up to clasp his wrist, holding him close. “Because he never got to see it. He never got to be that person cheering me on, taking pride in my achievements. Instead, I’m left imagining what it would be like, watching you and your dad and aching for something I can’t have.”

Carlos’ eyes turn molten, brimming with empathy and sorrow for your pain. Slowly, he guides you forward until your foreheads are pressed together, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Mi amor … I can’t replace what you’ve lost, or take away that regret and heartache. All I can do is promise to spend every day showing you how proud I am of you.” His fingers thread through your hair, cradling your head tenderly. “You are the strongest, bravest, most amazing woman I have ever known. Watching you out on the track, giving everything you have with that same fire and spirit as your father … words can’t express how awestruck I am. How honored I feel to witness your brilliance and passion race after race.”

You suck in a sharp breath at the reverent tone in his voice, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks at the depth of feeling behind his words. Carlos tugs you even closer until there’s no space between your bodies, until you’re sharing the same air in an intimate embrace.

“I only wish he could see you the way I do,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours with each word. “I wish he was here to feel the immense pride and adoration I feel every single time you leave me breathless behind the wheel.” A tender, lingering kiss punctuates his words. “You are your father’s greatest legacy, mi alma. And I will spend every day showing you that, if you’ll let me.”

A choked whimper escapes your lips as you surge forward, capturing Carlos’ mouth in a searing, fevered kiss. You pour every ounce of overwhelmed emotion, every bit of ardor and heartache and gratitude into the heated glide of your lips against his. His arms band around you like steel cables, holding you impossibly close as the kiss turns bruising, desperate, all-consuming.

When you finally pull apart, you’re both panting harshly. Carlos’ pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen and thoroughly kissed. He stares at you with such naked adoration, such devotion, that it steals what little breath you have left.

“Thank you,” you rasp, cradling his face in your trembling hands. “Thank you for loving me so completely. Despite all my broken pieces, you see me at my core and still chose me.”

He leans into your touch, lips brushing your palm. “There is nothing to thank me for, mi amor. You are the sun, I’m merely lucky enough to orbit you and bask in your warmth.” He places another soft, lingering kiss to your wrist, right over your thundering pulse. “I am yours, corazón. Every piece of me, for every piece of you. Never doubt that.”

A fresh wave of emotion rises up, this one filled with pure, dizzying love and affection for the incredible man kneeling before you. Pulling him up, you simply hold him for a long moment, relishing his solid strength surrounding you in the protective circle of his arms.

Here, in his embrace, the ache of your father’s absence dulls to a faded echo in the corners of your heart. Here, you can breathe easy, reassured and loved down to your very core.

Eventually, the sounds of celebration filter in through the door — your team must be getting restless waiting for their driver. Carlos seems to hear it too, huffing out a quiet chuckle against your hairline.

“We should get out there, hmm? Before both of our teams send a search party for their drivers.”

You nod, but make no move to disentangle yourself, soaking up his warmth and steady presence for a few more selfish moments.

When you do finally pull away, there are fresh tear tracks on your cheeks but also a peaceful smile gracing your lips. Reverently, you run your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at Carlos’ temples as his eyes flutter closed, savoring your touch.

“I love you,” you murmur, the words seeming impossibly inadequate to convey the depth of feeling they represent. “Endlessly, meu amado.”

Carlos’ gaze when he opens his eyes practically glows with emotion, pure elation and adoration radiating from his expression. “As I love you, mi alma,” he husks, stealing one more searingly tender kiss. “Always.”

With twin smiles and your hands linked tightly, you exit the room together into the raucous cheers and celebrations. Outside, you can see Carlos Sr. surrounded by a sea of red, laughing and beaming with incomparable pride and joy at his son’s success. Your breath catches when he spots the two of you emerging, arms flinging wide.

“There are my superstars! Vámonos, we have a victory to toast!”

As Carlos tugs you forward into the chaos, his father enveloping you both in a crushing embrace and peppering your cheeks with scratchy kisses, you feel a sense of peace settle over you.

Yes, there will always be an absence where your father should have been, a hollow space in your heart shaped perfectly to his memory. But you’ll never truly be alone.

Not with Carlos beside you every step of the way. Not with his family’s boundless love and affection enveloping you, treating you as their own daughter. They are the salve for when that empty ache becomes too much to bear.

So you let yourself sink into the celebration, into the warmth of the Sainz clan and the sheer euphoria of your personal success. As long as Carlos keeps chasing his passion with the same fanatical devotion as his father … as long as you chase your own with every ounce of vigor and spirit that your father passed down through shared blood … then Ayrton will never stop watching over you both with immeasurable pride and a heart overflowing with love.

And for now, for today, that will simply have to be enough.

Days Before the Miami Grand Prix, 2024

The Miami sun sinks lower in the sky, bathing the hotel balcony in a warm orange glow. You lean against the railing, staring unseeingly at the cruise ships dotting the horizon. Your eyes are glassy, your mind a million miles away.

It’s been thirty years to the day since your father’s life was snatched away. Thirty years of living in his immense shadow, constantly reminded of the racing legend you never truly knew.

Your phone buzzes incessantly in your pocket, a steady stream of texts and calls offering condolences. Old acquaintances you haven’t spoken to in years, suddenly reaching out on this morbid anniversary.

What can you possibly say that the world doesn’t already know? That they haven’t already dissected and analyzed a million times over?

The harsh truth is that so many strangers have more vivid memories of Ayrton Senna than his own daughter. It’s a sobering reality, one that reopens that wound all over again every May 1st.

You feel numb, gutted, emptied out.

“Amor?” The familiar voice pulls you from your reverie. You turn to find Carlos staring at you with soft concern in his warm brown eyes. “Are you alright?”

You try for a reassuring smile, but it feels stale on your lips. “I’m fine, just … thinking.”

He sees right through you, the way he always does. Crossing the balcony, he wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting atop your head. You lean back into his solid embrace, drawing comfort from his presence.

“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face for me, right?” He murmurs against your hair. “Not today.”

You let out a shuddering breath, blinking back the sting of tears. “I know. It’s just … it never gets any easier, you know? All these years later and the wound still feels fresh.”

His arms tighten around you. “I’m so sorry, mi amor. I wish I could take the pain away.”

“You help more than you know, just by being here,” you reply thickly. A tremulous smile curves your lips as you cover his hands with yours. “Thank you for putting up with my melancholy every year.”

“You never have to thank me for that,” he says fiercely. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

The sound of the balcony door opening draws your attention as Carlos Sr. steps out onto the balcony, his eyes kind but assessing as he takes in the two of you embracing.

“Ah, lo siento,” he says apologetically. “I did not mean to intrude on a private moment.”

“No, no, you’re not intruding,” you assure him, reluctantly extracting yourself from Carlos’ arms. You turn to face his father, subtly wiping at your damp eyes. “What’s going on?”

Carlos Sr. hesitates, shooting his son a questioning look. Carlos nods almost imperceptibly.

“Actually, hijo, do you mind if I borrow Y/N for a few minutes?” Carlos’ father asks. “Hombre a hombre, as they say.”

Your brows knit in confusion, but Carlos just smiles faintly and drops a kiss on your temple. “Of course. I’ll be inside whenever you’re ready, mi vida.”

With a final squeeze of your hand, he disappears back into the suite, leaving you alone with his father on the balcony. The older Sainz settles into one of the plush lounge chairs with a slight groan.

“Please, join an old man,” he says, patting the chair beside him. You hesitate briefly before sinking into the indicated seat. An awkward silence stretches between you both.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Carlos’ father begins at last. “I am not usually at such a loss for words. But I find myself struggling to know what to say on a day like today.”

You manage a watery chuckle. “Trust me, you’re not the only one at a loss. I don’t even know what to say to myself half the time.”

He regards you with such tender understanding that it steals your breath away. “My dear girl, you have carried such a heavy burden on those young shoulders for far too long. No child should have to grow up in the shadow of tragedy the way you have.”

Tears well up anew in your eyes. “I just … I wish I could remember him, you know? Really remember him, not just what I’ve seen in videos or heard in interviews. It feels so unfair that the whole world has vibrant memories of who he was, but I’m just … left with echoes and fragments of a man I never truly knew.”

Carlos Sr.’s eyes glisten with empathy as he reaches over to take your hand, enveloping it in his calloused grip. “Listen to me, mija. While I cannot begin to understand the depth of your loss, I do know this — it is never strange to mourn someone you loved, even if you cannot recall the time you spent together.”

His words are like a soothing balm on the ragged wound of your heart. You squeeze his hand fiercely, struggling to keep your composure as he continues.

“Your father was ...” He pauses, seeming to carefully weigh his next words. “Your father was an incredible man, one who touched countless lives all over the world. But to you, he was simply your father. And that bond, that love between a parent and child, transcends memory. It lives on in here.” He taps his heart with his free hand. “In a way that no amount of biographies or documentaries could ever capture.”

The tears spill over, streaking down your cheeks. You make no effort to stop them this time. Carlos’ father merely watches you with infinite tenderness, his thumb brushing soothingly over your knuckles.

“I know I cannot replace the father you lost,” he continues softly. “Nor would I ever try. But I hope you know that our family … we love you as one of our own, mija. You will always have a home and a family with us, for as long as you desire it.”

A broken sound escapes your throat and Carlos Sr. immediately rises from his chair to gather you into his arms, his embrace warm and secure and achingly paternal. You bury your face in his shoulder, body shaking with muffled sobs as the floodgates finally burst open.

“That’s it, let it all out,” he murmurs, one broad hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Holding in such grief for so long, it’s a wonder you did not crumble beneath the weight of it long ago. You are stronger than you know, mija.”

You cry until you’re completely spent, until the front of Carlos Sr.’s shirt is damp and your eyes are swollen and puffy. When at last the tears subside, leaving you wrung out but strangely peaceful, he produces a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabs at your cheeks.

“There now, that’s better isn’t it?” He asks, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles down at you. “I think my son may have plans to cheer you up, if you’re amenable?”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling lighter than you have in days … weeks … months maybe. “That does sound nice.”

The elder Spaniard presses the handkerchief into your hand, then steers you back towards the balcony door with a gentle hand on your back. “Then what are we waiting for? That boy may look like me, but his sweet tooth is all his mother’s doing.”

You pause in the doorway, impulsively turning to throw your arms around the man who has, in many ways, become a second father to you. “Thank you,” you whisper shakily against his shoulder. “For everything.”

His arms tighten around you briefly. “De nada, mija. That’s what family is for.”

When at last you disentangle yourself, Carlos is waiting just inside, a bright smile lighting up his face at the sight of the two of you. On the counter, a cheerful array of pastries and confections beckons, the delicious aroma of fresh Brazilian baked goods enveloping you in a warm, sugary hug.

Carlos’ eyes are shining with love and relief as you cross the room to plant a lingering kiss of gratitude on his smiling lips.

“I love you,” you murmur when you finally pull back, cradling his face in your palms. “Thank you for being you.”

His forehead drops to rest against yours. “Always, mi alma. I’ll never stop loving you and being here for you, no matter what.”

You hold him tightly for a long moment, savoring his warmth and solidity. When you finally part, Carlos’ arm stays looped around your waist as he turns towards the dessert spread.

“So, I may have gone a little overboard at the bakery,” he admits with an unrepentant grin, waving his free hand at the sugary bounty. “But it’s been a rough day and you deserve to indulge a little.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling some of the lingering heaviness dissipate at the pure, infectious joy on his face. Leave it to Carlos to try and solve everything with baked goods and affection.

“Well, when you put it that way,” you tease, leaning into his side, “I suppose I can’t say no to that face.”

“That’s the spirit!” Carlos crows, beaming at you with such adoration that it makes your heart squeeze. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he scoops up one of the frosted confections and holds it up to your lips. “Open wide, mi amor.”

You obediently take a bite of the sugary pastry, the rich flavors of doce de leite and buttery dough melting over your tongue. Carlos watches you with rapt attention, his eyes darkening slightly as you slowly lick a stray bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth.

His father clears his throat loudly behind you. “Ay dios mio, get a room you two!”

Carlos has the grace to look abashed, but you just grin unrepentantly at your future father-in-law as he shakes his head in mock exasperation.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Carlos says cheekily, surprising you by suddenly sweeping you up into his arms bridal-style.

You let out a squeak of surprise that quickly dissolves into delighted laughter as he starts carrying you toward the bedroom, peppering your face with noisy kisses. Over his shoulder, you catch Carlos Sr.’s indulgent smile and parting wink before the door swings shut behind you.

The rest of the evening passes in a sugary, affectionate haze. For the first time in as long as you can remember, the grief feels bearable, soothed by the love of your chosen family.

While the ache may never fully heal, you have a newfound sense of lightness in your heart.

As you lay tangled in the sheets later that night, Carlos’ arm a grounding weight around your waist, you send up a silent thank you to whatever cosmic forces brought this incredible man into your life.

And maybe, just maybe, your father can finally rest easy knowing his little girl found her way to happiness after all.

2K notes · View notes

iamasaddie · 2 days ago

Text

speed limit

lot lizard!Joel Miller x truck driver!f!reader

summary: different truck stop, same outcome. you meet Tommy’s brother down the road and learn that charm runs in Miller family warnings: again just a PWP nothing more; PinV; dirty talk; sex for money; mentions of past encounter with Tommy; no y/n or reader description wc: 3,9k a/n: I've tried writing in present tense and i am obsessed? hope u don't mind that change. thank you for the love and excitement over this silly idea <3 this is not heavily edited and once again, English is not my first language so mistakes are... there. most likely. previous part | series masterlist | next part

lot lizard (slang, US) — A prostitute at a truck stop.

Fate itself forces you to stop in Texas when a small red icon on the dashboard of your truck lights up, informing you of a plummeting tire pressure. You swear softly to yourself, turning the steering wheel and driving towards the first parking lot you see. Fortunately, even if you have a punctured tire, it will not prevent you from reaching your destination point, still, it will be useful to check all the others before you set off.

Before you jump out of the cab, you look behind the seat and fish out a red case where you kept necessary tools. You find the gauge quickly and jump out of the truck.

It's quiet in the half-empty parking lot, and from where you are standing you can see a heavyset man in his sixties dozing with his head thrown back in one of the trucks. A few more parked trucks look empty at first, but you know the drivers can well be napping in their cabins or having breakfast in the small shabby-looking diner. At the thought of breakfast, your stomach rumbles and you automatically squeeze the fabric of your T-shirt there, as if trying to stifle the shameful sound. That morning you drove off so briskly at first light that you completely forgot that the last time you ate was about twelve hours ago.

You quickly decide to stop by the dining room as soon as you've dealt with the tires. The road was empty in the early morning and you were already a couple of hours ahead of schedule.

The anticipation of breakfast—your mouth watered at the thought of fresh waffles and hot coffee—made you move faster. One by one, you approached each of the 18 tires until you found the one that failed you. As you thought, only one of the tires was showing pressure below normal, so you decide that you will be able to get to Iowa in the next couple of days no problem, unload and see a mechanic before going back to New Mexico.

Still, you shake your head in frustration. It was damn irresponsible not to check the truck before leaving. You had your head in the clouds all early morning, the effects of a more than pleasant night in the company of Tommy were spreading under your skin like warm bliss. Your lips stretch into a silly smile when you remember how soft his curls felt under your fingers, and his lips on your-- You pinch the thin skin on your wrist, forcing yourself back to reality. Damn, just thinking about him made your panties wet and your eyes blur. He knew exactly what he was doing. Best 50$ spent in your life, you giggle to yourself.

You quickly realize that when you turned into the parking lot, you didn't even notice where you were. You remember that you saw a sign for Brookshire, and looking around the parking lot, you finally notice a huge, worn sign that says “Flying J”. Amazing how you haven’t noticed the huge red roof and the airplane logo earlier.

“Flying J, Brookshire. Texas.” When you say the words out loud, it suddenly dawns on you why they seem so familiar. The man, Joel. Tommy wanted you to say hi to him, but he didn't even tell you how to find him, just gave you the name of the place. You couldn't help but laugh with irony, you were taken to a place where only your curious pussy was planning to go.

With a grin on your face, you pull open the heavy door of the diner, the ringing of the bell informs everyone of your presence. After a quick inspection, you realize that “everyone” is an elderly waitress who is arguing with a guy in a dirty chef's hat, and a man who is sipping a cup of black coffee, if the half-empty coffee pot on the table is a sign.

Without giving it much thought, you fall into the next table and wait for the waitress to bring you a slightly sticky laminated menu. While she dusts off her apron and quickly checks with a chrome spoon whether she has stained her teeth with her bright coral lipstick, you begin to study the man.

It strucks you almost immediately, that feeling. His skin is an almost familiar shade of golden, the curve of his strong nose and the curls that remind you so much of the ones you squeezed and pulled hours ago.

Was he really?

For a moment you stop yourself, taking the situation for just wishful thinking, even though you haven’t really been wishing for anything. And then, as if sensing your stare, he glances back at you. When he gives you a smile, you're ready to bet your entire salary that it is the man Tommy’s sent sleepy greetings to. He was right, they really do look alike, but somehow not so much in appearance—although the brown of their eyes is so memorable you think you could draw it from memory if you knew how—but more something inexplicable united them. The same vibration came from both men, a wave that penetrated you faster and deeper than you could understand and control.

“Y’know he can charge you for starin’, that one.”

The rattling voice of the waitress—Denise, as her crookedly pinned name tag said—pulled you out of daydreaming. The heat of shame rushed to your neck and you hurried to pretend a fool.

“Sorry?”

“‘m askin’ if you made your choice. Food?”

“Right!” Your eyes scan the menu quickly, but the words blur in one unintelligible line. “Sorry, yeah. Can I have some waffles and coffee?”

“No waffles, sorry, sweety. Not sure that punk can make anything besides biscuit an’ gravy.”

“Oh,” a slight disappointment settles at the bottom of your stomach, but it isn’t enough to satiate your hunger, so you just nod.“It’s okay, biscuit and gravy sounds great.”

Denise gives you a sympathetic smile and scribbles something in her crumpled notebook for show. “You need cream with your coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in a moment.” She only takes a couple of steps away from your table before she starts shouting your order out. Apparently, the cook's name was Jack.

Curiosity, or maybe not enough sleep, pulls you out from your own table and forces you to fall at the next one, settling down next to a familiar stranger. He doesn’t bat an eye, but smiles into the cup, giving you the opportunity to speak first.

“You’re Joel, aren’t you?”

You’ve been expecting a surprised look, or at least some reaction to the fact that you know his name, but apparently he is quite popular in these parts and therefore he just smiles, puts the cup on the table and throws his arm over the back of the chair, half-turning to you.

“Sure am, ma’am. What can I do you for?”

His voice is thick as fog on the road after a cold and humid night. It seeps under your skin with goosebumps, raising your hair on the back of your neck. A slight southern accent and morning hoarseness makes you squirm in place, and the seam of your jeans, pressing right into your pussy, reminds you of the arousal that has not left you since you woke up.

“You can do me.” You don't know who said it, but it was definitely your voice. Your bluntness even made Joel choke a little. Perhaps he is a little more modest than his friend after all. “Tommy said hi.”

You can see the cogs in his head turning until everything falls into place. His face changes before your eyes: a slightly sleepy, morning smile turns into a predatory grin, and eyebrows that have been raised in surprise droop, casting a shadow over almost intimately familiar brown eyes.

“Mighty nice of him,” He nods, and pushes the empty cup away from the edge of the table—the sound cuts into your ears—and you're already too caught up in the man to twitch. “And how's my baby brother doin’?”

Brother, of course. As if reading your mind, his broad palm finds your thigh under the table and boldly squeezes your soft flesh. Feeling under some spell you've cast on yourself, your legs spread slightly, telling Joel everything he needs to know. “He still treats little ladies nice?”

“He sure does.” Your voice is trembling, but it's not from fear or embarrassment. For the first time, you hear it tremble with excited impatience.

“Good,” he nods more to himself than to you. His hand doesn't leave your leg, his thumb draws small circles through the thin material of your jeans. “Otherwise I'd have to go over there and kick his lazy ass.”

You’re not sure how, and more importantly why, but you already know where you want this meeting to go. And Joel's narrowed eyes and lips, spread in a cheeky grin, tell you that he doesn’t mind. “Do you treat little ladies nice?”

He moves closer to you, fanning your ear and neck with his hot breath, which smells a little like the bitterness of black coffee. “Only if they ask for it.”

When Deborah puts your plate in front of you, she has a knowing grin on her lips.

It takes you about fifteen minutes to get from your table to now an even more empty parking lot. Your truck stands out like a sore thumb, giving Joel an understanding where to go.

His hands don't let go of your waist, and you constantly trip on your way, distracted by the wet kisses he insistently leaves on your neck throughout the walk.

When you finally climb into the cabin, you shrink a little, as if looking around through new eyes at a miniature room that accommodates only a mini mini-refrigerator; a single bed, which sometimes felt cramped for you alone; and a portable TV that you inherited from your uncle.

“Sorry, it’s pretty tight in here,” you purse your lips, but Joel stops you almost instantly, running his thumb over your lower lip and forcing you to release it from the captivity of your teeth. He wraps his hands around your neck, their imprint is hot, like an engine after a day of driving non-stop.

When he leans towards you, for a moment, you think he's going to kiss you.

“I like when it’s tight.”

Instead of pressing his mouth against your lips, his teeth bite your jaw, your earlobe, and descend with biting kisses to your neck. He cures each bite with a wet swipe of his tongue, and you feel like your nipples can cut through the soft cotton of your old T-shirt.

“Wait, the...fuck, the money.” You're almost suffocating, your brain is shutting down under the attack of skillful lips.

“50$ oral, 100$ sex,” he whispers as if it's something mundane, but as sexy as complimenting your soft breasts or wet pussy. “I’ve got condoms.” He finds your hand, which is clinging to his denim vest, and puts your palm on his jeans, where his cock is practically bursting through the hard denim. You can almost feel the way he thrums under your touch, all swollen and ready for you. “You want him?”

“Fuck, yes. Yes, god, yes, I want him.” You squeeze his cock slightly through the material, pulling a soft moan out of Joel.

“Good,” he nods and presses his forehead to yours, your eye-contact is so charged that the air between you is about to sparkle. “He wants you, too.”

As if following an unspoken order, you begin to pull off your clothes. You're doing it faster, considering you are only wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Your busted sneakers are thrown under the bed along with your socks, and you fall on the bed in your panties, enjoying an impromptu performance from Joel.

He pulls off his vest and T-shirt that had its sleeves cut off, exposing his strong, but at the same time soft body to your eyes. The golden skin of his chest, a couple of shades lighter than his arms, was dotted with sparse hairs that grew thicker, descending to his navel and hiding behind the waistband of his jeans. His stomach bulges slightly above the belt and you want to sink your teeth into the yielding flesh, but instead you just reach out and run your hand over the skin, which immediately explodes with goosebumps under your touch.

Joel keeps his hungry eyes on you as his big fingers reach for his fly, finally getting rid of the rag shackles. Underneath, he's wearing white briefs that feel uncharacteristic and do nothing to hide the hungry monster that is leaking in excitement to feel you.

Having lost all three drops of shyness that you had, you reach for the waistband and gasp when he gently slaps your palm and clicks with fake disapproval. “Impatient.”

You almost burst out laughing, they really are brothers, no matter how fucked up it is in your situation. “I’ve been told.”

Instead of letting you finish undressing him, he starts to get down on his knees, and you notice how his eyebrows tighten when he hits the hard floor of your temporary home. You immediately understand what he wants to do when he puts his palms on your knees and spreads them apart, so you grab one of his hands and try to pull him towards you, causing him confusion.

“Wait, no,” you tremble like a leaf, your nipples are hard buds that beg to be touched and played with, “I need something else, somethin-”

He shushes you softly, leaving a small kiss on your knee. “It’s okay, I know exactly what you need, little lady.” The nickname is gentle and sweet on his tongue that promises you nothing but wicked things. “But can I at least feel her first?”

His hand creeps up to your pussy, hidden behind the cotton of your plain panties. Along the way, he tickles the inside of your thigh with the tip of his index finger. There is a quiet thought in the back of your brain how Tommy’s fingers felt much softer, yet both of them elicit the same whimper from you. “I wanna know what it’s like to have your pretty pussy wrapped around my fingers before I split you with my cock. Trust me, it won’t be the same after.”

“You’re cocky.” And after squeezing what he had in those jeans you know he had every reason to be, however you just can’t let that slide without saying something, without tickling him in a way. Everything about him is unexpected, and so is his reaction to your words. Joel lets out a soft laugh, and traces your slit with the same fingertip he teased your thigh with.

“Soon you’ll be, too. Can’t stay humble when you’re full’a cock like mine.” His eyes go pitch black at the promise, lips wet where he licked them in anticipation. “Know you’ll take it like a good girl.”

Your legs spread wider, and instead of baring your cunt, he tugs on the waistband of your panties, swiping his thumb over the place where a wet stain already blooms.

He pulls on your panties so that they stick to your pussy like a second skin. The friction makes you moan and you almost bump your head into the wall when he caresses your clit with his finger, moving the pad up and down over the panties, teasing you relentlessly.

“So pretty, bet she’s tasty too.”

“I- -”

“Don’t worry, little lady, I remember how needy and impatient you are. Wanted me to fuck you before you even had your breakfast. That’s so hot.”

Then he hooks his fingers over the underwear, tugging it down. Your wet skin becomes cold when the air hits and for a split second you wish he would put his mouth on you, if only just to warm you up.

Instead, he glides his finger along your slit again and again, lathering it in the slick that covers your skin. Gently, he probes at your hole that welcomes him easily, the soft moan of your partial relief prompts Joel to move his digit in and out a few times before pushing a second one next to it.

“Mmm, she feels even more perfect than I imagined.”

“You imagined how my pussy feels?” You whisper, breathless, your body pushing itself on his fingers on its own accord.

“The moment you walked your pretty braless tits into that diner.” He hums, enjoying the squeeze of your walls and starting to feel impatient himself. Before he slides his fingers out, he places a kiss on your mound, just above your begging clit, tickling your skin there with his mustache.

You try to catch your breath, your hand involuntarily reaches out to where Joel has just been now to soften the feeling of his absence. He pulls off his boxers without a drop of grace, and bends down to a pool of his jeans on the floor, revealing to your gaze a juicy pair of his buttocks. Watching the muscles tense under his skin, your fingers enter your sticky wet hole, and you roll your eyes, fucking yourself.

“Uh-uh,” Joel shakes his head in mock displeasure. His massive cock is squeezed into a condom, and it's a little disappointing, but necessary. However, the white rubber can't hide the large, cum-filled balls covered with fluffy dark hair, and you almost drop your jaw when he starts to come closer to you, his cock swaying heavily.

“Nothing is stuffing that pretty pussy except for me while we’re together, little lady.”

“Don’t leave me empty for so long, then,” you bit back flirtatiously, and drag your soaked fingers up your navel, leaving a wet path on your skin.

He’s on you in mere seconds, your bed barely holding the weight of you both and it’s just limbs, touches and wet kisses before he pushes inside you in one smooth movement, stilling for a second.

You both forget how to breathe, as you grip his cock tightly and bite into the crook of his neck. It’s too much, it’s not enough.

He finds your eyes, swiping a strand of hair off your forehead, and you can almost hear him grit his teeth as he tries to stay still.

“Okay?”

“Please, move.” You beg, close to crying from your need.

His hips move gently at first, unexpectedly so. He cages you with his body, taking all of the space you’ve had and you don’t mind it. On the contrary, you want to carve more hollows inside you so he can get more of him in.

The wet squelches of your pussy taking him in are vulgar in the tiny cabin. You both let them fill the space, your eyes never leaving each other making the moment more intimate than it should be. Momentarily coming to his senses, Joel begins to build up the rhythm, the thrusts of his hips become sharper and more confident. When your pussy pulses around him, he bares his teeth and almost growls.

“Fuck, what a great fucking pussy, so wet and hot around me, drives me mad even through the rubber.” Joel drops his head, covering your outstretched neck with kisses and moving lower. His teeth bite your collarbone and you cry out softly, the sharp pain recedes as soon as he starts caressing the bite with his tongue. Soon, his lips are enveloping your nipples, first one, then the other. He nips at the delicate buds with his teeth, lightly biting the hard flesh. You writhe under him like a snake, but he doesn’t let you escape from his captivity.

His nicely trimmed pubic hair teases your clit and his cock feels even bigger when your pussy starts to shudder in orgasm. It lasts so long that it feels like you're cumming several times in a row and Joel continues coaxing pleasure out of you by sucking and nibbling on your skin, while his cock doesn't stop the rhythmic movements in and out of your puffy, sleek cunt.

“I, fuck, that’s too much.”

He doesn't stop moving, but grabs your chin, forcing you to look into the black depths of his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

Stop? Slip out of the tight embrace of your pussy leaving it empty and gaping without him? Nothing sounded worse.

“No, please,” at that moment you think you can give all the money you have just to keep him inside you forever. Stretching you, pushing you over the limit again and again until you cry, powerless.

“Good girl,” he whispers in your lips, like it is the only right answer.

He changes his position without slipping out of you, and rests on his knees, lifting your hips higher to make it easier for him to move. When he returns to pounding your pussy, you're half out of it, your brain is completely useless and only your body responds to Joel with moans and twitches.

He freezes as suddenly as he started moving. With your tender inner walls, you can feel his cock twitching inside you, pouring into the condom. You watch the veins in Joel's neck and forehead bulge with tension, his teeth clenched tightly and his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He whispers, his hips continuing to jerk erratically before he collapses on top of you, leaving a barely there kiss on your sweaty neck.

“I should work mornings more often.”

You’ve covered your nakedness with a thin sheet and now watch as Joel pulls up his jeans and stuffs his underwear into his back pocket. Your throat is dry and, as if he's read your mind, he hands you a half-empty bottle of water from the top of your refrigerator. You feel a strange pang of sadness as the thought of never seeing Joel or his sunny brother, Tommy, again hits you.

“Remember when you said about going to Tommy?”

Joel jerks his head up, looking up from turning out his T-shirt. “Y’want me to kick his ass? He grins and continues to pull on his clothes as if nothing had happened. There's a crisp hundred sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“No.” You smile back and hesitate before continuing. “But maybe we can go down there sometime for a different kind of activity.” Devils glint in his eyes when he looks at you again, and for some reason it makes you feel shy, perverted all of a sudden for your rush of desire to have more when you’ve just had an overflowing cup of orgasms. “If that’s... If you’re okay with that.”

Joel doesn’t look phased by any part of your suggestion, so he leans to you and pinches your cheek gently. “Ain’t had a better preposition my whole life.” He places a kiss where the sting of his pinch still burns and grabs his vest from the floor. “You come over on your way back, I'll be waitin’ right here and we'll see what we can do.” He winks at you and leaves the cabin without further ado.

When you get behind the wheel, you have no doubt that you will see them again.

PLEASE, LEAVE A COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKED THIS WORK. IT TRULY MEANS A LOT!

[some tags in the comments]

#iamasaddie fic #lot lizards!fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader

369 notes · View notes

bunny-jpeg · 10 months ago

Note

hi! i was wondering if i could order pull-apart bread, sweet pastry and hot cross buns, with a side of cider and chocolate milk, for sub!max verstappen? nobody really writes anything about the reader body worshiping him and his softer body, which would be nice to reassure him about. id love to hold his love handles 🥹

thank you so much in advance if you’re up for doing this! 💙

bakery menu

submissions to the bakery are open! i'm accepting them all the time, even if they take a little while to get uploaded, i am constantly working on 'em! so thank you! and for this anon! hello!!! this is amazing, what the hell! i feel the same way, folks don't really write about it in fan fics (i've seen posts wax poetically about it though). so yes, this was awesome to write! thank you <333

pull-apart bread ("i love you") + sweet pastry ("i'll make it all better.") + hot cross buns ("don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up.") + cider (body worship) + chocolate milk (tenderness) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sub!max, body worship, tender sex, cowgirl position, bondage, praise kink, dom!reader, insecurities, love & intimacy

it wasn't that you were going to fight people online over your boyfriend. it was a pointless endeavor to snap back at someone on twitter of all places! especially someone with a lando norris icon. but if you saw one more comment about your boyfriend's body online, you're going to kick something.

you loved max, that was why you were with him. but, you worried about him. underneath everything, there was soft center to him. and sometimes the wrong comment got through all the layers and right to the middle.

it just so happened the comments you hated the most were the ones about his body.

it was near the end of the off-season, you two had come back from a sunny trip to celebrate the time together. it left your poor boyfriend a little more pink than usual. especially around the shoulders, where he was shirtless most of the time.

you loved how he looked regardless. he was immensely strong in ways you couldn't fully grasp. you were always impressed by his ability to pick you up and kiss you. you believed that people had a skewed notion of what "hot" men should be built like. and you blamed it marvel movies and alpha male podcasts. max was not a dehydrated body builder. layered on top of the strength was a certain softness and made at the very least you drool at the sight of.

he was strong, but enjoyed food. he liked his sweets on weekends and a little extra at dinner. it didn't help with the constant weigh-ins and other measurements for formula one. so when you noticed his eyes on another cruel post online in response to a photo of him shirtless. you wanted to take that phone and toss it out the window.

you watched him turn off the screen and put the phone down on his chest. the room felt tense and your fingers went into his short hair. he tried to pull away, but with a tiny bit of force kept him close. you knew what he was thinking. just like everything else, max verstappen had crippling self-doubt.

"max. my love."

"yeah.." he said softly. the self-doubt that followed him like a shadow seemed to encrouch in his mind. you could tell even if you couldn't see his full expression.

you took the phone and placed it on the coffee table. you ran your fingers through his hair and looked down at him. fingers trailed down his jaw. "why don't we forget about that and go to the bedroom. "i'll make it all better."

you were in bed with him soon enough. he left his t-shirt and loose shorts on as your hands roamed his body. your lips on his neck, jaw and face. little unsaid promises of how handsome he was. "don't listen to them."

"what if they're right."

"when has a formula one fan ever been right about anything? you know some people online make ragebait. they're trying to get a rise out of other fans and cause in fighting."

"if i tried a little harder... i could look more like the others."

you made him look at you. his blue eyes seemed sad, like cloudy skies over a rocky shoreline. he couldn't meet your gaze, he was almost embarrassed. "max, look at me."

he made eye contact with you, "i could... if i tried."

you held his face a little tighter as he looked away. you said to him, "max, you are training all the time. you push yourself to limits that could kill many others. you work harder than a work horse with half the pay sometimes." you kissed the bridge of his nose, "i don't know who planted these ideas into your head." you had an idea, two names came to mind that made you frown. that was neither here nor there, "but, i love how you look."

his eyes shifted away from you. embarrassed. this entire thing felt embarrassing. he was insecure like a teenage girl at the moment because some random person online called him a stupid name.

"max. don't hide your face from me. i'd hate to have to tie you up." you said, trying to insert a joke to lighten the mood. you watched his demeanor shift and his eyes meet yours.

"would you.. tie me up? make me forget everything for a little bit?" he asked softly, his words almost tripped over one another. while most would've sought heavy therapy and an early retirement for their issues. max tried to cover them up, and sometimes that meant being your good boy.

"then tell me one thing, max."

"anything." he replied.

"say one nice thing about your appearance. anything. just one thing. and then i'll get what we need.' you promised, sealing it with a kiss on the cheek.

he swallowed, not knowing what to say. he shifted a little in his spot on the bed before he sighed. eventually he responded with, "my nose." he said, eyes on yours, "i like my nose. makes me stand out a little more."

you smiled a little bit and kissed him on the cheek, a gestured he melted into you. you replied, "and i love your nose too. i'm proud of you, max. good boy."

he said, "i love you."

and before you pulled away to get the roped needed for tonight, you said to him, "i love you too." then quickly ran your finger down his nose, "i love you, your nose, those eyes. every last inch of skin. your strength and your softness. it makes you perfect to me and those jealous bitches on twitter can't say anything about it." you broke into a further smile.

max chuckled slightly, he found you language amusing. the internet was troll heaven, but sometimes he needed his guiding light to not get himself sucked into the chaos of his doubts. he watched you pull away from him and get off the bed. he took off his shirt and shorts, he tried not too think too hard, but rather keep his eyes on you.

when you went to the dresser to find what you needed, he propped himself against the rod-iron headboard. usually he didn't like them, but when he discovered his affection for bondage early into your relationship, the headboard was perfect to keep him bound.

you returned to the bed, placing the two pieces of rope down onto the bed before you started to strip out of your clothes. once naked you got into bed with him. your hands roamed his chest and straddled his waist.

"you're so handsome, max. jesus christ. look at you." you smiled down at him. skin so soft, he was just perfect and you couldn't believe it. you rubbed up against him a little more and explored his torso with your hands, you watched him squirm a little under your touch. he shuddered a little.

“i'm not that-"

“max verstappen. shush. i don't want to hear it.” you rubbed up against the bulge in his briefs. you held onto his shoulders a little as you moved. the dry humping felt good and left excitement racing through your lover, “that's it. that's my good boy.”

he groaned a little, which only go louder when you stopped your movements to grab the ropes. he dropped his wrists to the bed and let you tie them to the bars of the headboard by the mattress. he melted a little against it while you took his cock out of his briefs. the underwear was off him in no time and you got straddled on his waist with your hands on his shoulders once more.

you eyed him with heavy lust, “i know those idiots say that you're too fat or soft. well, i think they're blind. i think they're a whole bunch of idiots. you are perfect, turn me on every chance you get.” you took his face in your hands and kissed him as you continued to rub up against him. he panted against you when you broke the kiss soon after.

words of protest hung on max's tongue, but he never said anything further. this wasn't going to be a thing he could win. no matter what he said, you have a rebuttal. it was a losing battle, so he'd simply have to put his trust into you. if you found him hot beyond words, then you'd have to listen. but the fight was fully gone when you seated yourself onto his cock, then sank down on it to the base. he yanked against the ropes a little bit and found euphoria in the knowledge that you tied the ropes just as he liked them. tightly.

“planning to fight against them, max?" you asked as you raked your fingers down his pale chest, "you wouldn't do that, would you? because you're my good boy! my handsome good boy. with those dazzling eyes and stunning laugh. when you smile i'm in heaven. especially when yo let me make both of us feel good.

he shook his head, his cheeks grew hot from your gaze on him. if he was hot, then you were gorgeous. you were an inferno made human. the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. the kind of beauty that brought him to his knees. he breathed heavily as the pleasure started to build in the bottom of his gut. his cock twitched a little bit the more you rode him.

he loved being at your mercy, under your thumb in a sexual manner. he bad so many choices all day, sometimes with only seconds to make them. so it was nice. to be in the comfort of your shared bed and letting you take what you needed from him. to give you total control. to love him, shower him in the praise he desired.

“i love you.” you said,

“i love you too.”

you started to move faster, really working your hips, making sure you could do as much as you could. you moaned a little bit and felt the stutter in your heart from the heat of everything. you pushed hair out of your face as you continued to ride him. the feeling between you two was electric. you said to him, “you're so handsome. fuck, you're perfect.” you started to move faster.

max bit back a moan but it spilled out when you crashed your lips against him. he almost whimpered from the fast speed. how good you took him. it made him clench his fists to try to compose himself. his chest rose and fell heavily he tensed up a little bit at the throb of lust in his body. you kissed him once more as you went as fast as you could go. you bounced on his cock and your nails dug into his jaw and shoulders.

the noises between you two were erotic. it was desperate on max's end. he wanted to make you feel good while also chasing his own pleasure. he fought a little bit against constraints. he was a little jerky as he tensed up. he could feel it all crashing down on him. no longer the lingering feeling of self-doubt but rather he heat of pleasure. the need to climax. to get out of his own head with the erotic bliss.

“please, my love. please.” he swallowed as his back arched a little. he leaned up to give you more kisses and watched you melt against him while your hips still moved. you held his face with both hands and clenched your thighs. he made a sweet, high pitched, almost whine like noise when you pulled away.

you carded your fingers through his hair and admired those blue eyes clouded in lust. “you're perfect, max. every inch of you. every spot you hate, i love more. damn those fuckers on twitter, they don't get to see what i see. everything.” you went in for another kiss and clutched onto his shoulders tightly as you came around his cock. your back arched and max went in to kiss your collarbones with such tenderness.

“my good boy.” you said out of breath as you continued to move against him. your cunt clutched around him as you kept your pace steady despite the tremor in your thighs. you knew max wanted to hold onto you and work your hips up and down his cock. but, you were in control. so you examined his expressions as you continued to move.

the kisses became sloppy once more as you brought max to his own climax. as he tensed up, he really yanked at the ropes for a good few moments before he felt all the fight leave his body. his eyes almost rolled back into his head from the head rush. he relaxed against the headboard and panted heavily.

he looked erotic, but totally blissed out. so when you stopped your motions. you kissed him gently on the lips before you got off his cock and felt his cum run down your leg as you tried to find your panties. once they were on, you smothered him in kisses and praise as you got the ropes off of him. you kissed his wrists and he slipped down onto the bed. the mattress felt nice against his body. he felt on cloud nine.

you rubbed his cheek for a moment with your thumb as you said, “i'm going to go get you some water. you just stay here, i'll be right back. now before i go i have to ask one thing. say one thing you like about yourself?"

he shakily exhaled while he leaned into your touch. his eyes were somewhat closed when he answered, sounding far away, “my eyes. they intimidate people. but not you. you love them.” then leaned further.

you smiled and kissed the top of his head, “that's what i like to hear. next time i want two things before and after we have sex. got it? i'm going to make you love yourself.”

he chuckled softly, cheeks pink, “easier said than done.”

you tapped his cheek before you moved away to go get him some water. you said to him while you approached the bedroom door, “max verstappen, you know i'm as stubborn as you are. ” then left to go get him some water. you could only hope you could make a dent in healing some of his doubt issues. and while you couldn't fight people on twitter, you could kiss and love the man you called your boyfriend. <3

625 notes · View notes

raptorific · 4 months ago

Text

I had the most bonkers dream last night where for some reason you were not allowed to talk directly about autism on TV anymore, and TV writers banded together in protest to do a malicious compliance campaign where characters on their shows would imply the actor's past iconic character was the identical twin of their current character, and that the iconic character was on the spectrum by having them all wear the same T-shirt with a slogan on it referring to their twin

Word got around about this plan among fans, and people were speculating on which of their favorite characters from long-concluded TV shows would be retroactively Confirmed Autistic by The Shirt, which quickly just became "who do YOU hope is Shirt?"

And then the day came and they were plain white T-shirts with big all-caps black text that read, and this is why this memory stuck so firmly in my mind:

BROTHER IS SHIRT.

307 notes · View notes

jks1uv · 3 months ago

Text

𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 ; mark grayson | one-shot |

summary: after the world is rebuilt, mark grayson gets to see you in a dress again.

pairing: gf!fem!reader x bf!mark grayson.

trope: established relationship.

genre: fluff + romance + some comedy + the tiniest bit of nostalgic angst.

warnings‼️: just a lot of corniness (i’m sorry 😭).

word count: 1,030.

random disclaimerrr: i’m back w some more marky poo stuff by popular demand (the voices in my head)! this is the sequel to The Only Exception but can be read as a standalone :) tysm for the love on my mark / invincible fic guys seriously i’m so fucking grateful 🫶🏽🫶🏽 happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

It’s been a few months since the many variants of Invincible wreaked havoc upon your city.

Life for many is trying to get back into the groove it was in before. Tragedy for the many casualties is the one thing that’ll never leave or change.

The Spring Formal is still on and somehow, it seems kind of silly to be fretting over your dress and heels and shoes and—

Mark’s caller ID pops up on your phone, momentarily pausing your inner troubles.

“Hey, you.”

You hear his smile through the phone and it makes you smile instinctively.

“Hey.”

Mark taps the speaker icon as he changes out of his superhero suit. “I finally found something to wear this Saturday.”

“You could’ve pulled off the Adam Sandler look.”

His laugh is muffled by the t-shirt sliding over his face but you hear it nonetheless.

“What time you gonna come pick me up, Invinciboy?”

He groans in annoyance and you giggle wildly at him.

“You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?”

“Nope!” You pop the ‘p’.

It’s Saturday evening.

Currently, 5 minutes till 5; the time Mark’s supposed to pick you up.

Your hair is styled nicely, your dress a pretty pale yellow.

You took inspiration from Andie’s dress from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003) and thought it’d be a subtle nod to your superhero boyfriends colors.

The dress is a gorgeous spaghetti strapped silk gown with a tight fitted corset and a flowy silhouette.

The jewelry is kept simple; a thin chain rests on your collarbones, a small watch wraps around your wrist with pearl earrings adorning your ears.

Your strappy heels are a glossy black and add 3 inches to your height, perfect for a slow dance moment!

You feel beautiful, and you are.

You’re looking over yourself in a full body length mirror, your eyes skim over your face and arms.

It’s time.

Your room is clouded with the last few spritzes of perfume you spray and you head out.

You’re coming down the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice mixed in with your parents’ laughter.

When did he get here?

You turn the corner and the lively atmosphere morphs into one of quiet admiration.

Your mom is in awe, she marvels over the amazing reflection of herself. You’re a wonderful image.

“You’re so beautiful.” She whispers.

Tears prick your eyes as you hug her and your dad is holding back the urge to see you as you used to be all those years ago.

Back when you were trying on your mom’s dresses and experimenting with her makeup and jewelry and shoes.

He simply nods and hugs you, his chin resting on your head.

“You look great.” He says.

“Thank you.” You shyly reply.

Mark is staring and how can he not? You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and you’re his girlfriend now. Your beauty enhances from his love, he thinks.

Your parents part and let you and Mark have some time with this first look.

“Wow.” He sighs as his eyes take you in.

They innocently wander across the expansion of your figure and you silently do the same.

“That good, huh?” You smirk.

Mark doesn’t have it in himself to fight your teasing because right now, he’s feeling sappy.

His eyes shine with an intensity that show the fireworks you’ve set off in his heart.

“You’re beautiful.”

The speed your confidence boils down to a timid attitude is that of a world record timing.

You instantly look down on the floor from his gaze and interlock your fingers together.

“Thank you, handsome.” You smile.

He nods to himself and chuckles. “No problem.” His cheeks tinged a light pink.

Mark holds his elbow out for you to take and you do. Your arm interlocks with his and you walk outside, a soccer mom van awaiting as your chariot.

Courtesy of William.

You and the girls make a move on taking photos while Mark, Rick and William get some food and chat with Amber’s boyfriend.

You take a quick glance at Mark and see him looking at you.

It’s cheesy but the world around you quiets down when your eyes meet his. Like there’s a secret language you speak with your eyes alone.

The DJ puts on a slow song and all the couples hit the floor.

You look at Eve apologetically but she shrugs it off.

“I’ll be alright, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

You nod and turn around to find Mark already two steps ahead of you.

“May I have this dance?” He asks with the suave of a 19th century duke.

“You may.”

Mark’s hands find your hips and your hands find his shoulders.

Being this close, gently swaying side to side while looking into each other’s eyes feels so intimate. A feeling of peace clouds the air and for the first time, Invincible can take a backseat and let Mark Grayson drive the car.

“This is nice.” He says.

“Mhm.” You nod once, twice.

Your fingers interlock behind his neck and it causes his neck hairs to arise.

“That tickles.” He huffs out.

Your lips split into a grin and you shake your head. “You’re so romantic.”

He shrugs and smiles back, taking a moment to really look at you.

He sees all of which makes you unique. Your makeup may cover up the moles and freckles and scars that litter your face but it only enhances your beauty for him.

The slight curve of your nose, your round cheeks and soft jaw.

Your eyes, though have a magnetic field of their own. They draw him in and make him never want to look away.

“You’re staring.” You mumble out, your bashful nature coming to the surface.

He blinks and lets the corners of his lips quirk up. “I can’t stop.” He whispers.

You rest your forehead on his shoulder and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his warm embrace.

It’s a different kind of spring this year. A spring that’s relatively normal, easygoing. The kind that is the start of a new beginning and makes you wonder, same time next year?

#amazon prime #amazon prime video #amazon prime video usa #invincible #amazon prime video invincible #mark grayson x fem!reader #mark grayson x y/n #mark grayson x you #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson fluff #mark grayson oneshot #mark grayson imagine #♡ hearts 4 everyone! ♡#s writes!#first spring

246 notes · View notes

itsnesss · 2 months ago

Text

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | franco colapinto × fem!reader

summary | at silverstone, feeling out of place in the busy paddock, you meet franco. what starts as a casual chat turns into a meaningful connection, leaving you both unexpectedly impacted

warnings | fluff, mild flirting, brief mention of feeling out of place / social discomfort, light romantic tension

word count | 1.0 k

🖇️ more fc43 🖇️ f1 masterlist

The sky was overcast, that typical English gray that makes you unsure whether it's going to rain on you or just annoy you. Silverstone was a sea of people, noise, and movement. The paddock felt like a separate universe, one that didn’t seem to have room for a casual spectator like you. The credential hanging from your neck felt foreign, like someone else had mistakenly put it there.

"This isn’t my thing," you muttered, stepping away from the most chaotic area, searching for a corner to catch your breath.

But the paddock is like an urban jungle: there’s no such thing as silence. The roar of the engines overpowered the wind, the conversations—even your own thoughts. You looked around, uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to have a purpose: cameramen rushing with tripods, grease-covered mechanics, girls with cameras slung around their necks, fans hunting for autographs. You just wanted your cousin to finish his motorsport fangirl tour so you could go grab a drink somewhere calm. But he had won a meet & greet with several F2 drivers, and he had no intention of wasting it.

You couldn’t blame him. It was his passion. But you felt completely out of place.

You sat on the edge of a metal stand, half-hidden behind a trailer. The cold seat cut through your legs, but you preferred that to standing in the middle of that human swarm. That’s when, somewhere between your bored thoughts and the distant engine vibrations, you heard him for the first time.

"You look more like the 'coffee and a book' type than 'oil and burnt rubber.'"

You looked up, a little surprised that someone had spoken to you in the middle of all that chaos. And there he was. Franco Colapinto. His helmet hanging from his left hand, his racing suit unzipped at the top, revealing a black thermal shirt clinging to his torso. His hair tousled, like he had just been running with the wind. His gaze intense, but curious. Like he found your confusion amusing.

"Was that a personality read or a critique?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A little of both," he replied, with a half-smile.

You weren’t sure whether to feel intimidated or intrigued. But there was something in his tone, in his relaxed posture, that made you stay. He didn’t seem like he was trying to impress. He just wanted to talk. And you... you needed exactly that.

"I'm T/N," you said, extending your hand without getting up from your seat.

"Franco," he said, shaking your hand briefly, though he didn’t really need to introduce himself. You already knew his name. Your cousin had repeated his last name so many times, you had it memorized—along with his car number.

"Do you talk to every girl who looks lost in the paddock, or just the ones who have no clue what’s going on?"

"Only the ones with no clue. They’re the most interesting."

He wasn’t arrogant. Nor was he pretending to be humble. There was a natural ease to him that disarmed you. He sat next to you without asking for permission, as if it were a park bench instead of the most iconic racing circuit in England.

"Are you bored a lot, or just a little?"

"A lot," you admitted, laughing. "I came with my cousin. He’s on cloud nine. Me... well, I’d rather be at a museum. Or in a bookstore."

Franco nodded like that wasn’t weird at all, like he understood.

"That’s fair. Sometimes I wish I were somewhere else too."

You looked at him, unsure if he was being serious.

"Why’s that?"

"You’re always surrounded by people, always running, training, traveling. Sometimes you just want something simpler."

"Like reading a book with coffee."

"Exactly. Though I’m not much of a reader. I’m more into watching shows when I can."

"Not much free time, huh?"

"Almost none. But right now I have a few minutes, and I’d rather spend them talking to you than locked inside the tent."

His sincerity caught you off guard. It wasn’t the typical flirty comment. It felt real. Like he had truly found something different in you. Something that pulled him out of “driver mode” and made him feel simply... human.

The conversation flowed. You talked about travel, music, how terrible the paddock coffee tasted. He asked about your interests, why you had picked this destination, what you hoped to get out of the trip. And you, who didn’t usually open up so easily, told him things you didn’t even know you’d wanted to share.

And he listened.

Not with a "I’m only paying attention because you’re cute" face, but with genuine interest. As if you weren’t just another girl. As if you were... something more.

Time slipped away between laughs and comfortable silences. Until a voice came through on his radio.

"I have to go. Briefing."

He stood up, brushing off his suit pants.

"Are you staying for the race?"

"I’m not sure."

"If you leave, I’ll get bad luck."

"You believe in that stuff?"

"In you, for now."

He said it so calmly it didn’t even sound cheesy. You were speechless.

"I’d like to see you later," he added, staring at you.

"After the race?"

"After everything."

And with that, he left.

You watched him walk away through the crowd, heading into the team tent with that same relaxed, confident stride. You felt your heart beating faster than you thought possible. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the moment. Maybe it was him. Or maybe, without even realizing it, you had just met someone who was going to change your life at a speed you couldn’t begin to imagine.

And even though you didn’t know it yet...

He had felt it too.

#🖇️ franco colapinto #franco colapinto x female reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader

175 notes · View notes

todayisdeadinside · 2 months ago

Note

The “Louis is homophobic” narrative is so outrageously dumb that it feels like it was manufactured in a top-secret lab that specializes in bad takes and Twitter misinformation. Like, are y’all okay? Blink twice if it has rotted your critical thinking skills.

Let’s start with the infamous “I am in fact straight ” tweet thread debacle .Yes. That one. The cursed hieroglyphic carved into the stone tablet of Larrie discourse. Do we know Louis even wrote that? No. Do we know he wasn’t pressured to tweet it? Absolutely not. That thing reads like it was drafted by an intern who smells like Axe body spray and internalized homophobia. And even if he did write it, who among us hasn’t tweeted something mid-spiral, mid-slander, or mid-pr-management-disaster? I once tweeted “I love cardio” after crying on a treadmill run. We’ve all been there.

But here’s the thing: Louis’s actual, observable behavior? Screams “deeply queer coded closeted boy who’s been suppressed for over a decade” let’s start rom the very beginning, in 1D interviews, he straight up REFUSED to entertain the weird, gross questions about male fans and them potentially being attracted to the boys bait questions. He danced around it and looked at the interviewer like they needed therapy. A homophobe doesn’t do that. A person who’s been taught to fear queerness would not dance around a bigoted opportunity served on a silver platter by British tabloid goons.

Now, let’s talk about Only the Brave. That song is so queer-coded it needs to pay rent in West Hollywood. The lyrics sound like they were stolen from a poet who stares longingly at their best friend across a candlelit pub. You think some homophobe just wakes up and writes “it’s a church of burnt romances” over sad,slow guitar strums like that’s a normal Saturday morning? Honey. That song is aching. It’s cinematic. It’s closeted gay in a war film meets Catholic guilt meets forbidden glances across a church pew. Straight men don’t write like that unless they’re trying to land a GLAAD award or overcompensating for owning five pairs of cargo shorts. Let’s also not ignore COACOAC and all along.

AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE GAY BARS. This man isn’t “accidentally” stumbling into queer spaces like he tripped over a curb and landed on the dance floor at Heaven. He’s comfortable there. He brings his long-term “girlfriend” there for her birthday. He’s not just vibing—he’s thriving. He’s at home. He probably knows the bartender by name. Homophobes do not take their “girlfriend” to one of the most queer friendly known places (Amsterdam) and then write about missing their lover while they’re there 🤨. And then do damage control when people figure out the line HE pointed out to make it clear it was not about his “girlfriend”. Be serious.

Also, let us not forget that this man promoted Polari. Polari. Do antis know how deep cut that is? That’s not “I saw a rainbow once and felt warm.” That’s “I researched underground queer British slang from the 1900s and wore it proudly on my literal chest.” It’s like if a straight dude casually wore a T-shirt that said “Stonewall was a riot” and then went right back to watching football. That’s not a casual choice. That’s a coded statement wrapped in giggles and subtext.

Oh and antis love to erase how Louis helped shape Harry into the fearless, gender-fluid person he is today. “Painted nails make Harry beautiful.” HE SAID THAT. Welllll before it was male fashion. That was during the era of tight skinny jeans and judgment, not Gucci gowns and Vogue covers. He was supporting Harry’s expression when people were still saying “that’s a bit much, innit?” And then there’s the “I’ve never seen you in a dress before mmmmmm” moment. The delivery? Iconic. The eyes? Full of love. The vibe? Boyfriend.

When Harry waved the pride flag for the first time and Louis was literally BEAMING at him like he’d just watched his baby take its first steps? Yeah, that wasn’t the reaction of a man who hates queerness. That was a man who was proud. That was personal. That was “I see you, and I love you” with a Donny accent and a huge smile.

Also, the way antis act like Louis would be totally fine with queer fans in person, but then immediately log onto Twitter like the Wicked Witch of Westboro Baptist Church is so laughably illogical I’m getting a six-pack from the mental gymnastics. Homophobia isn’t platform-dependent! You can’t be like “he’s a proud dad at concerts but a bigot in 280 characters or less.” That’s not how people work. That’s how satire works.

And please—please—tell me how a homophobic man would stand in front of thousands of queer fans waving pride flags and say “I feel so fucking confident, so fucking protected.” He didn’t say “appreciated.” He didn’t say “respected.” He said protected. As in, “I feel safer here than anywhere else.” If you think a homophobe says that sincerely, you need to open a book and then maybe touch grass.

But maybe I’m just a troglodyte, sitting in my little internet cave, clutching my gaydar and refusing to accept twitter takes as gospel. But what I do know is that Louis is about as homophobic as that guy who claps as he watches a drag queen get engaged. He’s queer-coded, emotionally intelligent, and more comfortable in queer environments than most straight girls at bottomless brunch.

Let’s be real. They don’t actually think he’s homophobic. They just don’t see him. They don’t listen to him. They refuse to understand him. And instead of owning up to their bias, they make it weird.

holy shit anon i am kissing you on the mouth this is beautiful and SO correct. also, hilarious. i laughed unreasonably hard at the jokes and puns. whoever you are, please get into a writing field. youll thrive there.

#answered asks #one direction #louis tomlinson #harry styles #larry stylinson #louis stuff #viral hell

189 notes · View notes

internet-kid-kenna · 5 months ago

Text

Here are some of my aftg 2006 fashion HCs

- Allison definitely has a hot pink Juicy Couture velour track suit. Like 1000% she does. I literally picture her dressing like Paris Hilton when she's not in exy gear

- Andrew definitely wears Doc Martens. He has the most worn in pair of docs though like they’re the only shoes he wears (other than when he's on the court or at the gym) and he takes good care of the leather tho. He might have multiple pairs but he for sure wears combat boots.

- Neil has the most beat up af pair of vans that like the soles are nearly coming off of. Andrew buys him new shoes but Neil would always pick his trash shoes until Andrew gets so fed up he throws them away.

- Kevin for sure wears like Hollister or Abercrombie & Fitch, tbh he was probably a Hollister model at some point

- Andrew definitely has a black leather jacket, Aaron has a brown one.

- Nicky wears vests over t-shirts, i basically picture him dressing like the Jonas brothers.

- i also think Matt wears vests over t-shirts, like specifically when they go out to a club

- Aaron wears converse. He has them in a couple of colors but i think he'd probably wear like red ones more often than black

- Allison owns a bump-it and she loves it, she teases the shit out of her hair to get it perfect (i think the actual bump it came out in 2008 but i still wanted to include it bc it makes so much sense to me)

- Renee has a pixie cut, like Alice from twilight style (also I know the movies came out after 2006 but just using that iconic style for reference)

- as much as i want to picture Andrew with a middle part and longer hair, I think he keeps it pretty short and gels it, however Aaron for sure has the like Bieber side swept bang look going on.

- Dan wears like jeans and a zip up hoodie usually, her jeans definitely have the like embellished designs on the back pockets though

- Dan also wears capris and V-necks with tank tops underneath

- Seth wears like Ed Hardy T-shirts, I think Andrew owns at least one in black, but Seth is like chains and baggy jeans and Ed hardy t-shirts for sure

- Renee wears jeans under dresses, but she looks cute in it

- Renee also wears those like knee length skirts and cropped cardigans with cap sleeves.

- Wymack wears Polos w/ cargo shorts and flip flops

- Abby definitely always has a contrasting color tank top under a long sleeve v-neck and boot cut jeans

- Allison owns several mini skirts that are about as wide as a belt and in fact owns belts that are wider than some of her skirts

- when Dan goes clubbing she also wears mini skirts though, but like Allison will wear one to class if she feels like it

- Dan owns several pairs of gold hoops and is usually wearing them even if she's dressed fairly casually

- Matt has worn a tie with a tshirt before, he also has one of those like army green shirts with the lapels and too many pockets.

- Matt wears a sweater vest when he has to dress nicely though

- Neil owns the baggiest Jeans on the planet and probably keeps them up with a shoe lace instead of a belt, the hems of them are shredded bc he's short but any rips are patched up

- Andrew definitely wears black ripped skinny jeans all the time, but specifically the ones that have the like ribbed black fabric underneath the rips, the rips are purely aesthetic.

- Andrew wears silver jewelry if he wears any, but Aaron wears gold if he wears any

- any formal wear by the guys includes a skinny tie

Like fashion in 2006 is such a fun backdrop for these characters. I can't stop thinking about it

#aftg #all for the game #kevin day #andrew minyard #neil josten #danielle wilds #renee walker #matt boyd #seth gordon #aaron minyard #nicky hemmick #david wymack #abby winfield #2006 fashion trends

177 notes · View notes

superball7666 · 7 days ago

Text

🪓🧇TICCI TOBY HEADCANONS!!🧇🪓

*DISCLAIMER*

18+!! MDNI

These are just my own personal interpretations of Toby and what I think he would be like.

These headcanons are also for an 'intact memories' Toby.

Let me know in the comments if you guys want me to do an 'amnesia' version!

Enjoy!

Cw- Explicit sexual content, mention of past abuse/past sexual trauma, mention of suicidal tendencies/self harm, mental disabilities/disorders, possessive behavior.

• Toby is a consent type of guy.

He doesn't care for the idea of r@pe or sexual assault because of how his father would treat his mother.

He does not want to be like his father.

He'd be intimate within his own boundaries, with exceptions such as if you asked him to go harder or be a bit rougher.

He DOES, however, like role-playing.

Stuff like Hunter & Prey or Home Burglar.

It gives him a somewhat healthy sense of chase without killing.

• Toby has borderline severe ocd.

More often than not, Toby will get an intrusive thought about hurting you in an intimate way or hurting himself due to his ocd.

He's somewhat used to it from years of having it but there are times he just can't get a disgusting image or idea out of head to the point where he'll close himself off from you in order to protect you from himself in his own way.

Though you know he'll never actually hurt you.

• His demeanor/personality.

He's a cheeky motherfucker.

He will trip you and half-ass play it off.

"Dude, did you just trip me??"

"Pfft whaaaat? Nooo...?"

His personality can switch pretty often due to his unstable upbringing, but you try your best to accommodate him when he splits.

He always appreciates that of you even if he doesn't always act like it in the moment.

Whenever he has an episode, he starts going off about seeing and hearing things like, "Did you see that?" Or "You can't h-hear them too?"

He might bite his hands or pick at his skin while in a fit.

He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help it.

These episodes, if taken too far, can result in tic attacks and/or seizures.

• He's odd.

Odd in the sense that he might "accidentally" kill a squirrel when chopping wood and then bring it in the house and ask with a straight face if you guys could have it for dinner.

*gizzards are actually pretty good, imo*

Although tourettes aren't odd, he has an occasional tic that make his say, "Lincoln/Kennedy." And point at something with finger guns.

*Irdk I just think it's a funny headcanon.*

• He uses target practice as a form of stress relief.

Whenever Toby is feeling stressed out or anxious, he'll practice his already perfect aim with his hatchets outside for hours until sundown or until he gets bored.

He'll typically take his off jacket during practice if it's sunny out and just sport a short sleeve t-shirt. Plus, it's not like you mind seeing his biceps or anything.😏

He'll always make a point to find you a cool rock or pick you some pretty flowers when he's done.

"I got you this."

"Why?"

"I thought you might like it."

• His appearance.

I picture Toby being 5'7 - 5'9 in his younger years and 5'10 - 6'2 later on.

Almost shoulder-length wavy/curly brown hair with redish undertones.

Some miscellaneous facial peircings.

Something like snake bites and double eyebrow peircings.

He usually likes to have a light beard but can't grow a full one, so he goes for a goatee and some stubble.

And you like how it feels against your inner thighs while you ride his face, so it's a win-win.

His eyes are a dark, rich brown.

Oh, how he loves to peer at you getting dressed with those dark brown eyes.

Wondering over your soft curves while you slip on his favorite pair of panties.

His cheeks are peppered with light brown freckles, tiny, almost invisible scars.

He, of course, sports his iconic cheek scar that shows his teeth, and a small tooth gap in his slightly too big front teeth.

• How he would smell.

Smelly.

Not bad smelly, just always a bit stinky.

Notes of fire and pine would drown out most of his stink, tho.

And of course you make him bathe.

He probably wouldn't as often if you didn't tell him to.

He's a dirty boy by heart.😌

• What his hobbies would be.

He tends to enjoy carving wooden animals with his hatchets.

Such as bears, wolves, and birds.

There's not a lot of stuff to do in the wilderness of the rocky mountains except for wood stuff.

Chopping wood.

Carving wood.

Having you bounce on his morning wood.

Ect and what have you.

😗

• He's not a proxy.

In my mind, Toby isn't a proxy but a puppet that Slenderman controls when he needs to have somebody dealt with.

Let's say, for example, that some rando knew about Slender, he would, in essence, put Toby into autopilot mode and carry out his bidding through him.

This leaves Toby waking up in random places with his clothes covered in b!00d and chunks of his memory missing or at the least foggy.

You always try to do your best to clean him up when he finds his way back, but he's left a bit rattled when it's done.

• He's handsy.

This man will have his greedy paws on you every chance he gets if you let him.

He constantly has to be near you or touching you in some sort of way, or he'll lose his mind.

His favorite places to touch you are your shoulders, lower back, tummy, and thighs.

Basically, anywhere that your body curves.

DONT GET ME WRONG he loooooves titties but it's not exactly a deal breaker if you're flat chested. He'll take you any way you come.

He WILL spent hours on end with either his face buried in your chest just nuzzling and taking in your scent (cough, cough, mommy issues.) Or laying across your thighs like they're his own personal pillows; occasionally rubbing and squeezing them with his rough hands.

• How he would be in bed.

Tender, playful, and LOTS of cunnilingus.

Like, 'after every round' a lot.

And he's VERY good at it.

He would absolutely drown himself in an ocean of you if he could.

He wouldn't moan very loudly at all.

Mostly grunts, soft noises, and heavy praise with some light moans on the side.

Stuff like "Good girl, f-fucking good g-girl~." , "You feel so G-God damn good, baby." And "Mmmm, yeah, j-just like that~."

He likes it when you scratch his back during too.

He knows you know it doesn't hurt him, but he still sees you holding back, so he says, "Come on, b-baby, don't be shy-y now~. Not after you s-so g-raciously opened your legs up for me."

But, this can all change depending on if you made him jealous or not.🤭

If you DID, then, well, let's just say you wouldn't be cuming anytime soon.

All that praise would get turned into spankings and orgasm control.

All "B-Beg for it." And no."Yes, please."

He'd wait till you're on the edge of your release just to pull out and leave you a whining mess.

And when he finally decides that you've learned your lesson, he's makes damn sure to leave enough hickeys for you to remember exactly who you belong to, and to never, ever do that again.

But you always do, of course.😚

• How often he'd want to do it.

All the time.

Every day if you could stand it.

Not that you'd be able to stand very well if you couldn't.🤭

This man is an absolute sex fiend.

He will steal your underwear and leave with nothing to wear underneath the pretty little skirts he got you.

Just how he likes it.

He just can't resist the sight of your plump ass bent over the table he made.

All for him. Only him.

And be prepared to get creampied.

Every. Single. Time.

Not only cause he hates wearing condoms but because he just loves the image of his partner getting absolutely stuffed with his cum.

Whimpering and dripping his love.

God, he could get off on the thought alone, but actually doing it is much better in his opinion.

• His favorite positions to do it.

Either cowgirl or missionary.

He likes doggy too but he prefers to see your face while he fucks you raw.

Sinking his cock into you while squeezing your thighs so hard you thought they might bruise.

Pleasure is a big thing for his big thing since he can't really feel many other sensations.

So feeling you pulse around his hard member is one of his favorite pass times.

WOAH this took longer than I thought!😅

Hopefully yall enjoyed my first Ticci Toby headcanons!

Later, dudes!👋😜

#ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby #ticci toby smut #ticci toby x reader #headcanons #creepypasta headcanons #fictional men #creepypasta fanfic #fanfic

91 notes · View notes

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 1 year ago

Text

Met His Match. || Soap MacTavish (Collab)

A collab with @crashtestbunny.

Find us on AO3!

Words: 3.5K~ Pairing: Sex Fiend!Reader x One Night Stand!Soap CW: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, smut smut smut, dubcon elements, unprotected piv, oral sex (f!receiving), public handjob (m!receiving), overstimulation, bathroom sex, sadism, dom/sub, rough sex, sub John "Soap" MacTavish, forced ejaculation, semi-public sex, whining, light exhibitionism, power play, dry orgasm. other tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, dating app, hook-up, one night stand, mean reader, exhaustion, walk of shame summary: Johnny gets fucked. a/n: Inspired loosely by my "It's a Match!" fic... but so much fucking worse. P.S. Not beta-read, we die like soap.

Friday night. 6 PM.

You just got home from work and after making yourself a quick meal, you threw yourself on the couch.

Reaching for your phone you click on the Tinder icon on your home screen and immediately begin swiping away at the men that come across your screen.

You're not being too picky. Still a bit picky, but not too much. It doesn't matter that much what they look like... so much as what you feel once you see their picture.

You're not on this app for the romance, after all. No.

You're tired and frustrated from your week and all you want is to fuck a man. In fact, you want to fuck a man so hard he leaves your flat in the morning looking (and feeling) like a cheap whore.

You'll know what kind of man you're in the mood for when you see him.

Left.

Right.

Left.

Right.

Left.

That's when a man with the biggest blue eyes you've ever seen comes across your screen. You stop the mindless swiping immediately and just stare at him.

You can already imagine the way those blue eyes would look up at you from between your thighs, and how much better his face will look when they're glassy and he's covered in sweat and drooling down his chin...

Oh yeah, he's what you're looking for alright.

So, you scroll down to read what his bio has to say.

If that bio is anything to go off of, he's also looking for something casual. After all, he mentions fingering and being ridden in the same paragraph. Perfect.

You Swipe Right on him and your phone immediately buzzes, announcing that you matched. Sweet.

Johnny texts you first. How... cute.

Johnny: hi beautiful x Johnny: how are you doing?

Oh, sweet summer child... what does he think this is? Small talk that'll lead onto a date?

You: doing good. You: how's your night looking?

It takes a minute before his reply comes.

Johnny: very free Johnny: wanna hook up?

There we go, Johnny-boy. That's the spirit.

You: would love that You: do you know that one bar around the corner from the post office? Johnny: of course You: meet there in an hour? Johnny: i'll be there Johnny: i'll be wearing blue

You can't help but chuckle... he won't be wearing much of anything soon enough.

Finding him at the bar is extremely easy because the bar is not packed, albeit still pretty busy. But that's not why you picked it. You picked it because it's only a short car ride from your flat.

Johnny is leaning on the bar, as promised, wearing a dark blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans, and a pair of simple black boots.

You approach him from behind, wearing a simple black dress. Not one of those flashy, slinky club types, just a regular dress. You know what you came here to get.

"Hey." You greet him casually and he turns to look at you, his hand wrapped around a lowball glass with some drink inside. It's clear... so either tequilla or vodka.

When he turns you realize three things immediately: 1) He lied about his height. He's definitely not 6ft tall, but 5ft10 at the most; 2) He's built like a brick shithouse, impossibly wide shoulders with large, beefy arms... So he wasn't lying about his 'Athletic' build; and 3) He has a fucking mohawk.

You can already imagine the way he'd look, your legs over his shoulders, as you squeezed his head between your thighs while his tongue lapped at your folds... Fuck, you're horny.

"...nice. What are you drinking? I'll buy." You catch the end of what he said, the beginning probably a greeeting, and a compliment, and, now an offer of a drink.

You try to shrug casually and seem unbothered. You decide to humour him. If he wants to play the gentleman part and pretend this is a date, you can play along.

"Whiskey. Neat." You murmur in reply as you slot yourself next to him against the bar, your thigh brushing against his as he orders and pays for your drink.

"So, a soldier, huh? What's that like?" You muse as you take a sip of your drink, watching him take a sip of his, his throat bobbing as he swallows. Oh, how you'd love to wrap a hand around...

"I like it. Always ken I wanted to be one. Tried to sign early and everythin'. I like keepin' active and I'm good at what I do..."

He continued talking, but you tuned him out, eyes locked on his mouth, watching how his lips pushed and pulled for each word, his white teeth in a neat row behind and his wet tongue sometimes peeking out.

He talked a lot. He talked... too much.

"Let me cut you off right there." You interrupted him, causing him to shut his mouth and stare at you. "Care to have this conversation between my legs, gorgeous?"

Johnny stares at you with impossibly wide eyes, like what you just said is the most bizarre thing he's ever heard. His left brow, right below an obvious scar, twitches, a sign he's interested. "...When?" He asks in a murmur.

"Right now." You reply with a head tilt.

The blue-eyed Scot simply nods eagerly and knocks back the contents of his drink into his mouth.

"That's it... That's fucking it-" You croon as you buck your hips into his mouth, your back pressed against the wall, the hem of your dress curled up and tucked into the elastic band of your bra.

Johnny's on his knees on the floor of the cubicle, his tongue lapping at your slick cunt like he's a prisoner on death row and that's his last meal request and he insists on enjoying it.

One of his hands grips your right thigh, squeezing it and keeping it steady, the other alternating between rubbing your clit and going around the back of your hip to squeeze one of your arse cheeks, pulling you deeper into his mouth whenever he licks and sucks your clit.

His blue eyes are locked on yours and they look just as good as you had imagined they would as his moist tongue curls to gather some of your slick and swallow it down, to taste as much of it as he can.

He's such a fucking munch, his tongue parting your folds and diving as deep into your hole as he can get it, before sliding back up to meet your clit, giving it a greedy suck.

There's a smug smirk on his lips, even as they're buried in your cunny, and a chuckle falls from them too while he thrashes his head side to side like a dog playing tug-of-war, nearly blowing raspberries on your clit and causing you to squirm against him, more expletives falling from your mouth.

You know what he's thinking. He thinks he's in charge. He thinks he's doing a good job fucking you. Oh, how wrong he is. And you're about to show him that.

"Wipe that fucking smirk off your face, sweetheart." You demand as you push his hands off your body and grab onto his stupid fucking mohawk with both hands like a handle to grind yourself against his face.

His eyes widen, but the sight of you using his mouth, his tongue, to get yourself off, hips bucking and dragging across his chin and tongue, lips and nose is enough to get him riled up.

He can't help himself, his hands finding a spot on the floor and his own legs spreading apart, allowing him to half-grind his clothed cock against the tile.

His head bobs eagerly against you, his nose buried in your mons, the flat of his tongue rubbing over your clit, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, crotch and folds.

Your legs are trembling on either side of his head, but you don't stop riding yourself against his tongue, your head falling back against the tiled wall behind you, the pitch of your voice getting higher and higher.

The way the flat of his tongue presses to your clit causes your whole body to shake, your skin warming up more and more to the touch. The coil in your stomach is getting tighter by the second and your breath, as well as your moans, are ragged and long.

Your hips buck and thrash and your head hangs low suddenly as your climax crashes onto you, leaving you breathing fast and deep, your eyes fluttering a bit as you look down to find Johnny kneeling between your thighs, his tongue still softly sliding upward, spreading your folds open and swallowing your come deep into his mouth.

"That's it, drink up, I'm not giving you water anytime soon, sweetheart." You tell him, noticing how his eyes have gone glassy, a wet spot having formed in his dark jeans.

Filthy mutt got off on having you fuck yourself on his tongue...

Having pulled Johnny off you and fixed your dress back into place, you called an Uber and then dragged the bulky man out of the bar by the hand, marching ahead of him toward the pavement, under a street lamp, to wait for your ride.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you guided your mouth up Johnny's chin toward his mouth, locking lips with him, your tongue seeking his out.

His beard and mouth are both still soaked with your come, he smells of it, and tastes of it too, and with each push and pull of your tongues as you seek each other out, you get more of a taste of yourself.

You only broke the kiss once the Uber arrived, your phone having pinged with a warning, and a car having pulled to the side of the road not far from the two of you.

You and Johnny piled in together and while he scooted all the way across the backseat toward the other door, you slid up next to him as you two greeted the driver.

You didn't bother with a seatbelt (neither did Johnny) and since the driver didn't seem too keen on chit-chat, you allowed yourself to drape a leg across Johnny's lap, while his arm wrapped around your waist.

Your fingers slid over his thigh toward the darkened patch of denim on his crotch, and, with your leg (and the music playing from the speakers) as cover, you slowly undid the fly and button.

"What are ye-" Johnny murmured as he glanced at you with raised brows and wide eyes, like an innocent little puppy.

"Sh-shh..." You hissed as you kissed his cheek, playing the part of a loving girlfriend, or an overly affectionate date, for your driver's sake, you slowly slid your fingers through the open zipper, fishing for his cock amidst the wet fabric of his boxer briefs.

The pretty boy was already at half-mast again, even after having already come once, and your hand quickly wrapped around it as you began stroking it.

Johnny thighs trembled and his legs kicked out a bit as he felt your warm hand wrap around his sensitive member, and he looked away, out of the window, eyelids fluttering, eyebrows scrunched, and a hard bite on his bottom lip.

His cock began steadily throbbing in your hand, hardening and growing more with each languid stroke of your hand around him. He's thick. Much thicker than you expected him to be. You can feel your fingers struggling to fully wrap around him.

Sliding your palm up, you slowly rub over the hooded tip, which draws a squeak from the back of his throat, his chest heaving, and his stomach being sucked in.

"Control yourself..." You whispered in his ear which, making sure to shoot a glance forward at the Uber driver, who seemed focus on the road.

In response, you received yet another soft groan and a hiss through clenched teeth, Johnny's head lulling toward you, his forehead leaning against your temple. "Feels... fuck... I can't... you're... ah-"

"Feels good?" You murmur in his ear as you kiss his bearded jaw lightly, feeling him buck a bit against your hand, causing your thigh to bounce on his lap.

"Hm... Mhm..." Johnny grunted. "Fuck... Steamin' Jesus..." He whined brokenly as your hand kept stroking his length fully, up and down, at a slow, languid pace.

You'd draw back the foreskin, exposing the bulbous head, before drawing it up again as your hand climbed up to rub against the tip for a moment, only to roll back down once more.

Whenever the car would drive past a street lamp, the yellow-toned light would flutter briefly over Johnny's exposed cock, and draw your attention right to his pink, bulbous tip, overstimulated and angry, leaking shiny beads of pre-cum.

"Sh-Shh..." You cooed at him again, enjoying the broken sounds of pleasure he'd let out through clenched teeth, the way his cock would throb and twitch in your hand, and how the muscular man next to you vibrated with tension.

Oh, how you loved to make men break under your hand, and, even more so, how much you loved to make men like him break. A soldier, a strong man, used to dominating... How silly of him to think he had any power here...

It takes little time for Johnny to suddenly twitch and thrash next to you, his breath picking up and becoming ragged and wet, like he's struggling to control himself into being quiet...

You look up at him just in time, finding the way his head falls back on the headrest of his seat, while he grunted under his breath and hissed through his teeth, again, and again, his eyes fluttering shut as he experienced a dry orgasm, only the tiniest beads of cum slipping down to your fingers right below the head.

Just in time too, because the Uber pulled over less than a minute later, the Uber driver looking back at you and Johnny. "We're here, Miss." He told you politely.

"Thank you, Jared. I'll be sure to leave you a 5-star rating and a good tip." You replied to the driver as you slipped your leg off Johnny's lap and scooted closer to the other door.

After opening the door, you turned again and grabbed Johnny by his shirt collar, your fingers hooking themselves onto the inside of it and grazing his dog tags hanging around his neck.

Smirking, you slip them from the confines of the shirt and then twirl the ball chain around your forefinger like a lead, pulling it taut, which causes Johnny to audibly whine.

"C'mon, Johnny." You ordered as you tugged him forward, causing him to scoot forward, ducking his head to follow you out of the car, his movements languid and slow, his head still cloudy from the recent orgasm.

"Fuck, yes! Fuck!" You whine, your head falling back, your hair sticking to your forehead and your nape.

"Steamin' fuckin' Jesus... Fuck..." Johnny groans, his own head rolling back on the mattress of your bed.

"Yes... Yes..." You grunt as you fix your grip on the bottom of his thighs, right before his knees, bouncing your ass off his lap.

Johnny's mouth is hanging open, his hands fisting the bed sheets as he lies on a puddle of his own sweat, every inch of his exposed, hairy torso glistening under the light of your bedside lamp.

You're both exhausted, your hands slippery on his sweaty thighs, your own sometimes shaking as you bounce on him again, and again.

Your pace is starting to become uncoordinated and sloppy because your legs are tired, your knees struggling to keep up and causing you to stutter atop him, driving his cock harder into you and deep against your cervix twice in a row.

It drives a desperate moan out of you both and you go still for a moment, feeling the sweat trickle down your brow.

"Fuck... C'mon..." Johnny whines and grabs you by the hip, attempting to rock his hips up against the cleft of your ass, helping pound into you...

Only for you to bounce up with him and then throw all your weight down onto him, causing his ass to be pinned back down onto the bed, and drawing a loud yowl of surprise as his cock barrels right against your cervix, sending a sting of pain up your spine.

Johnny looks up at you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, seemingly horrified and confused.

Finding his eyes, you lean forward, pressing your hands onto his chest, before murmuring "Stay fucking still. This isn't about you."

"Sorry?" Johnny murmurs, whether in confusion or genuinely apology, you don't know.

"You're nothing more than a toy right now. And good toys don't talk." You warn him.

"I-" He stuttered, not fast enough to protest before you were moving atop him again, the new angle and slight pause having provided you with an extra burst of energy.

You rocked against him, keeping him buried down to the hilt and rubbing your sensitive clit against the bush at the base of his cock.

It makes you croon in delight, keeping up the same angle but becoming more and more frantic, rubbing yourself against his bush while keeping his shaft sheathed nice and deep in your weeping cunny.

Something about the warm wetness enveloping his already oversensitive cock, the sight of your face contorting in pleasure atop him, so close and yet so far, your hands pushing against his chest so he doesn't try to reach for you.

It drives him over the edge and he finds himself losing it, his big blue eyes fluttering and rolling, his jaw dropping and his every muscle straining as his head falls back, causing him to stiffen beneath you.

Out of breath, you lean your head against his chest, feeling the warmth of your release coming in the aftermath of his own, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you being the final nail in the coffin.

Johnny doesn't dare move as he feels your warm cunt squeeze around him, draining every last drop from his already reduced third orgasm, simply lying there, beneath you.

His mouth is hanging open, drier than the Sahara, every inch of him is slick with sweat and he's out of breath and his entire body is trembling ever so slightly as he closes his eyes in pure bliss.

Only for his eyes to shoot open again as he feels you start up again, your ass carefully bouncing off his sore thighs.

Johnny stumbles his way into the training room. It's 6 a.m. and he has not caught a fucking wink of sleep.

Unlike his normal hook-ups, after which he reports to base with a pep in his step and a smirk on his lips that no amount of push-ups, sit-ups and mile runs can wipe off...

This time, he's limping, every muscle of his feeling sore and stiff, his thighs feel like they're going to bruise up, his cock burns from how oversensitive it is...

He hasn't slept, hasn't eaten, hasn't drunk water... and the closest thing to a shower he got was when you tossed him some wet wipes in the morning.

Unlike him, you had gotten up in the morning (aka after a 1.5 hour power nap) perfectly energized and like you hadn't spent half of the night riding him like a stallion you were trying to break...

Gaz is the first to notice Johnny's state as the Scot falls into formation with the rest of the unit, his eyes still sort of glassy. But he doesn't say anything... he simply raises a brow and smirks in amusement.

Ghost is standing by Price on the sidelines and notices next and, unlike Gaz, he chuckles at it and calls Price's attention to it. The Captain turns to look at Soap and has to contain the look of amused disappointment from showing on his face.

"Soap!" The Captain calls out, causing Soap to look over, nearly languidly and then approach, with Gaz following behind him, despite not having been called. He just... wanted in on the fun.

"The fuck happened to you, son? Did you get in a fight?" Price asks with a cocked brow, watching how the younger sergeant squirms and his tanned face grows warmer.

"N-No sir." Johnny replies and shakes his head, which causes him to wince, feeling light-headed.

"I think 'assaulted' would be a better word for it, Cap'n." Gaz chides, causing the Scot to huff and turn his head in frustration and embarrassment.

"Shut it, Garrick..." Soap murmurs, which earns a light chuckle from all the men, Ghost included.

"Go shower and take a nap. You're excused for this morning." Price tells the sergeant, causing the lad to nod thankfully and wander off, limping once more.

As he gets back to his barracks, he grabs his phone, typing out a quick message for you, thankful you insisted on giving him your number and taking his... Johnny secretly hoped that meant you wanted a repeat.

"Hope you're happy... Made me embarrass myself in the state I showed up to training in."

The reply he earned, however, was the most cold-hearted one he could've received... One he never even saw coming.

"I'm sorry, who is this?"

Read Bunny's Work HERE

#ikea writes 💚#cod x reader #cod fanfic #masterlist #call of duty #cod fandom #john soap mactavish #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #cod smut #smut #johnny mactavish smut #johnny mactavish is a mutt #soap smut

468 notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

Pretty Woman Moment

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: you have your very own Pretty Woman moment in the glittering shops of Monaco

You take a deep breath of the fresh Monaco air as you walk hand-in-hand with Max down the cobbled streets. He gives your hand a little squeeze and smiles at you. Even after all this time, his smile still makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re both dressed casually — just simple jeans and t-shirts, with caps pulled low over your faces. It’s one of the things you love most about your life here. The two of you can blend in and just be yourselves, without the glare of fame and fortune.

As you pass a small cafe, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out. Your mouth waters.

“I’m dying for an iced coffee,” you say longingly. “Do you mind if we stop for a quick drink?”

Max chuckles. “Of course, schatje. You stay here and keep browsing. I’ll go grab us something.”

He gives you a peck on the cheek before heading into the cafe. You watch him go, your eyes drifting down to admire his cute butt in those jeans. Yup, you’ve definitely still got it bad for him.

Humming to yourself, you continue down the street, peering in shop windows at the latest fashions.

Up ahead you spot the iconic red awnings of Cartier. On a whim, you decide to browse the opulent jewelry shop.

As soon as you enter the store, you can feel the receptionist’s eyes sweep over you, no doubt taking in your casual outfit. Her gaze lingers on your much-loved sneakers. You pretend not to notice as you begin looking at a display of gem-encrusted watches.

Moments later, a saleswoman approaches you. “May I help you find something?” The saleswoman asks in a frosty tone.

You give her a polite smile. “Just looking, thanks.”

The woman’s eyes flick to your sneakers again, and her lips press together in disapproval. Still, she gives a curt nod and stands stiffly nearby like she is waiting for you to leave.

You feel a flare of annoyance at her judgmental attitude, but brush it off. You don’t have anything to prove to her. You know who you are, sneakers and all.

As you admire a display of delicate tennis bracelets, you feel the saleswoman’s eyes on you. She hovers over your shoulder, as if worried you might steal something. You bite back an amused laugh. If only she knew the size of your jewelry collection back home. Max loves spoiling you with extravagant gifts just because.

You wander towards the case of Panthère de Cartier rings, their tiny emerald eyes glinting up at you. As you lean down to admire them, the saleswoman swoops in.

“I’m afraid those particular pieces are off limits to handle without intent to purchase,” she says crisply.

You straighten up slowly. “Of course. My apologies.”

You turn away, irritation prickling. The other salespeople eye you suspiciously too now. Pretentious snobs, you think.

Just then, the glint of your own diamond tennis bracelet catches your eye — the one Max gave you for your anniversary last year. It’s slipped partially down your wrist unnoticed. You nudge it back into place just as the first saleswoman appears at your elbow.

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re attempting to steal that bracelet,” she hisses.

You gape at her. “What? This is mine, I’ve been wearing it since I came in.”

“Likely story,” she snaps. “Jacques, could you please call security?”

A bulky guard steps forward, eyeing you distrustfully. “Let’s just take a look at that bracelet, miss.”

Mortified anger rises in you. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say heatedly.

The saleswoman’s expression hardens. “If you make a scene, we’ll be forced to restrain you until the police get here.”

Just then, the door opens and Max strides in, caramel-drizzled iced coffee in hand. His eyes instantly take in the situation. He steps forward, eyes blazing.

“What the hell is going on here?” He demands, voice dangerous. You’ve never seen his racing temper directed at you, though you know it lurks beneath his calm demeanor.

“It’s fine, Max, just a misunderstanding-” you start gently.

He silences you with a look, then turns his glare on the cringing salespeople. When he speaks again, his voice is lethally quiet.

“This is my wife, Y/N, and I suggest you treat her with the utmost respect. She is the most important person in my world.” Though his words are soft, they crack sharply like a whip. “Now apologize. Immediately.”

The saleswoman who accused you blanches paper-white. “M-Mr. Verstappen, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Max holds up a hand, cutting off her stammering. His sharp features are carved from stone. “Save it. Your behavior was unacceptable. We’ll be taking our business elsewhere and you can be assured that I will be speaking to corporate.”

But the security guard blocks your path. “Just a moment. I still need to verify this bracelet did not come from our store.” He reaches out towards your wrist.

Quick as a flash, Max grabs the man’s arm, halting him. “Don’t touch her,” Max says in a low, dangerous voice. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the ice in his tone.

The security guard tries to yank his arm away, but Max holds firm. “I suggest you let us leave right now, before I call my lawyer.”

He drops the offending arm as the security guard takes several steps back, then takes your hand gently. “Come, schatje. Let’s get you home.”

Once outside, Max halts and turns you gently to face him. His handsome face is creased with concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from your face. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

You lean into his touch, letting it soothe away the sting. “I’m okay now that you’re here. But Max … the way she looked at me, treated me like I was garbage just because of what I was wearing …” You trail off, throat tightening.

Max’s jaw tightens, a storm brewing in his beautiful eyes again. “She had no right to talk down to you that way. No one has the right to make assumptions and treat you like anything less than the amazing woman I know you are.”

Despite everything, you feel yourself smile slightly. No one can make you feel better like Max can but furious tremors in his fingers tell you his wrath still simmers below the surface. You squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, really. Don’t let them ruin our day.”

His expression softens as he looks down at you. “Of course. I just can’t stand to see anyone disrespecting you.” He smiles ruefully. “I may have overreacted.”

You laugh. “Just a bit. But it was gallant of you to come to my defense.” You lean up on tiptoes to kiss him sweetly.

Max wraps you in his arms. “I’ll always protect you, Y/N. I love you.”

“And I love you.” You take his hand again. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. I saw the most adorable baby swans in the harbor earlier.”

The tension eases from Max’s shoulders as you stroll together along the glittering marina. You chat and laugh, the unpleasant scene at the jewelry store already forgotten. Because nothing can touch the happiness you’ve found here, in the sun-drenched streets of Monaco, hand-in-hand with the love of your life.

***

The next evening, you and Max stride arm in arm into Cartier, looking every inch the glamorous millionaire couple that you are. You’re dressed in a slinky black gown with diamond earrings while Max cuts a sharp figure in an Armani tuxedo. The salespeople gape as you saunter in, not recognizing you as the girl from yesterday.

You head straight for the saleswoman who accused you of stealing. “Remember me?” You ask breezily.

She flushes, stammering apologies. You silence her with one manicured finger.

“Let’s start fresh, shall we?” You extend a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

“S-Suzanne,” she manages.

“Suzanne, my husband Max and I are looking to make a significant purchase tonight.” You gesture around the lavish store. “You have some beautiful pieces. Why don’t you show us some options?”

“Of course, right this way.” Suzanne leads you to a private viewing room. Hands shaking, she brings out diamond necklaces, tennis bracelets, rings — tens of millions of dollars in jewels laid across velvet.

You and Max pretend to consider each item seriously, before waving it away. “Oh no, that won’t do … this one’s not quite right either …” With each rejection, Suzanne’s smile grows tighter.

Finally you turn to her, feigning disappointment. “Well Suzanne, I’m afraid nothing here has caught my eye. It all seems a bit … subpar.”

She gapes. “S-subpar?”

“Mmhm. I think we’ll try Bulgari next. Their quality is much more superior.” You pause, tapping a finger against your chin thoughtfully.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I realize this just isn’t going to work out between us.” You gesture around the store. “It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sure this is a fine jewelry store for some people with lower standards, but for me ...” You trail off, shaking your head sadly.

Suzanne is white-faced, swallowing hard. “Please, give us another chance. I’m certain we can find something to your satisfaction.”

You pretend to consider it. “Well … I suppose we could take another look.”

For the next hour, Suzanne desperately shows you their most elite pieces, diamond necklaces worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. You and Max have a gleeful time trying them on, admiring yourselves, but ultimately waving each one away.

Finally, after rejecting a spectacular €500,000 art deco diamond choker, you say airily, “You know what, Suzanne? I just don’t think Cartier is right for me. It’s been … educational, but I believe Max and I will be going now.”

As you saunter out, Suzanne calls desperately, “Please come again soon!”

You pause, looking back with a dazzling smile. “I would … but you made a big mistake. Big. Huge.”

And linking your arm through Max’s, you sashay into the balmy Monaco night, leaving the frantic saleswoman behind.

3K notes · View notes