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thefantasyden · 3 months

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Stray Kids reaction to you grabbing their dick (subtly) around people

Kind of exhibitionist themes. NSFW of course. Nothing too kinky.

Chris:

Ohhhh boy, he's so turned on, but he's also embarrassed because of how much it turns him on. Chris loves your confidence and boldness above all else, so he can't help but feel a little pride when your hands reach behind you to rest against his dick. He really did have pure intensions when he came up behind you for a hug while you were talking to people but his thoughts have definitely turned sinful and he'd be tugging you closer to him so that he could press his dick against your ass all under the guise of being a cute, clingy boyfriend. He'd probably be throbbing against you if someone commented on how cute you two were or how sweet he was to you because he fully intends to have you begging him for mercy when he finally gets you alone. I genuinely just think he would be SO turned on my any hidden dirty displays from you in public where he was the only one who could know what's happening. Call it subtle exhibitionism if you will, but he'd be hard as hell and whispering his dirty thoughts in your ear every time.

"If you want me to bend your pretty ass over the couch when we get home, you coulda just asked me."

Lee Know:

Grins like the Cheshire Cat. He would be SO proud. It's not exactly a secret that you're his personal slut but he just lives for the affirmation of you not being able to keep your needy hands off him. If you're hanging out with the older members when it happens and you subtly slid your hand from his thigh to his dick, he would immediately call you out on it to embarrass you because he knows you'd like it. He's only turned on further when you sass him in response, and he probably wouldn't wait long to be tugging you to a place where he could have you all to himself. He's a bit of an exhibitionist but I think he'd also be possessive, so prepare for him to be taunting you before he lets you touch him further. He'd make you tell him all about how you just couldn't keep your hands to yourself because you're always needy for him. He treats you so so well when he finally lets you have him, and he'd be praising you for being his desperate angel. To him, it would evolve be another form of intimacy unique to you, and it probably becomes a normal habit after a while for you to have your hand on his dick when you're just hanging out.

"Aw, look, my baby just can't keep their hands off me, huh? You're always so desperate."

Changbin:

He wouldn't even realise it was weird at first because you're always groping him, and he does the exact same to you. He's always gripping your ass or your thighs when you're in reach of him, so you gripping his dick when you were sitting at dinner wouldn't register for him until he feels your hand move up his length and when that happens, he's coughing to try and cover up his moan because holy hell is it hot in this place. He's encouraging it for sure, and I think he'd actually like it if one of the other members caught you. It'd probably be Jisung because he's your partner in chaos and he'd see your hand slipping under a blanket when you were relaxing with them, immediately asking if you two ever thought about anything else with a smirk and Changbin would just let out the silliest, excited laugh in response. He loves your hands on him, but he also always manages to get a giggle out of you in most sexual scenarios (which gets him even more riled up because he l o v e s hearing you laugh.)

"Have you SEEN my baby? You're lucky I'm controlling myself right now like a civilised man."

Hyunjin:

He'd be turned on and a little irritated because it almost always happens when you're at an event that you can't leave. You were always flirty with him, and that was perfectly normal and acceptable with people around, but you hugging him and sliding your hand down to grope at his already half hard length was something he really could not find an appropriate reaction to. His expression would almost give it away if he hadn't been whispering a warning to you. Never mind that having you with him and having the two of you being praised for looking so good together while he showed you off already had him counting the seconds until he could get his hands on you. His behaviour wouldn't change throughout the night, but his grip on you would be tighter, and he'd be quieter than usual. You would almost believe he was upset with you if it wasn't for the anamoured smile he couldn't stop whenever you were talking to someone. The second you're in a private spot, he's scolding you for making him feel so out of control.

"I really need you to behave until we get back to the room and I can have you whining under me, ok?"

Jisung:

Confused and needy. Hell, he hardly has time to be confused because they way his body reacts so strongly to you has him pleading in your ear for you to help him relieve a little pressure, your cupped hand resting over his dick after you came to bring him coffee in the studio. He's just glad Chris and Changbin are focused on what they're doing and can't spare any attention to his whining when he pulls you on to his lap so he can hide his face in your hair as he pants against your neck. He's just so sensitive to your touch, and he can't help it. Poor boy is trying so hard not to grip your thighs too hard or fidget too much. Usually, when he's desperate like that, he'd be so vocal, but that's impossible when the other two are so close by. He'd survive MAYBE 10 minutes TOPS of you sitting in his lap before he's trying to convince the boys that he feels sick (which they don't buy, but they don't feel like dealing with him) and he's dragging you back to the door. I think he's just so in love with you that he wants to have you in any way he can at all times.

"Shit... That feels so good baby. No no, please don't stop. I just want a little more."

Felix:

Depending on the day, I think he'd either be kind of cocky and into it, or he'd be bright red (but still into it!). Felix strikes me as someone who has a high sex drive when he feels a deep connection with someone and you just so happened to tend to his needs so well that he's ready to go whenever you show interest. You'd be sitting in the car coming home from something, and your hand would carefully drop to his lap, fingers barely stroking over his dick but he's getting hard regardless. He loves your light, ticklish touches, and his thoughts are spiralling to how they feel on his bare skin and how similar it feels when you trail kisses down his chest and, well, he needs you. He covers your hand with his and presses it down so he gets a little bit of relief but is also stopping you from torturing him any further. Once you're home, he'd playfully call you dirty between kisses and it would entertwine with 'I love you's and whispers of how beautiful you are and how badly he needs to have you touch him again. Lots of messy kisses and giggles before you even make it to the bed.

"You don't even know how hard that was! How am I supposed to act normal when you've got that innocent face and you're touching me like that?"

Seungmin:

I don't care if you're team Dom Minnie or Sub Minnie, I think he'd be FLUSTERED. Seung doesn't strike me as an exhibitionist at all, and he'd react so instantaneously to your touch that it has him aggressively flushed and confused. He'd take a second to respond when he first felt your hand on him, but he'd push it away once it registers, scowling and whisper-yelling that you can't do that when people are around! He doesn't mean to sound harsh, he's just so embarrassed (and maybe also really turned on) that the words come out more aggressively than he intended. Once he's calmed down, though, he'd scoot closer to you and interlock your fingers, gently kissing your cheek and apologising for the way his scolding came out. He loves that you want him, he just needs it to be at a time when he can respond freely. Don't worry though, because he'll make it up to you when you're alone. He'd be kneeling between your legs as quickly as possible, kisses littering your thighs as his hands pushed them apart.

"Let me make show you how much I need you, ok? I wanna taste you."

I.N

Just like Lixxie, he depends on the day. If it's a really public setting, he's embarrassed and moving away from you BUT if it's a small group with maybe one or two of the other members, he's pulling you closer to him and bucking his hips against your hand, encouraging you to continue. On rare occasions like movie nights where you're hidden under fluffy blankets, he wants you to jerk him off. He's a young man, he has a lot of dirty thoughts. It's definitely not his fault! He'd taunt you with whispers of how good he'll make you feel later and how hard he is, all for you and god, when he finally feels your hand wrap around him properly, he has to squeeze his eyes shut and pray that nobody notices his panting or the way he seemingly can't get comfortable all of a sudden. He doesn't like to finish like that, though, and he doesn't think about what anyone says when he drags you to his room. All he cares about is getting his lips on yours, hands groping at whatever he touches first as he cages you against his mattress.

"I know you love seeing me like this. I'm so hard for you. I wanna fuck you so fucking bad."

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #felix smut #minho smut #chan smut #chris bang smut #hyunjin smut #han smut #jisung smut #seungmin smut #i.n smut #jeongin smut #thefantasyden

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leclsrc · 1 year

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you know it ✴︎ cl16

genre: porn WITH plot (for once?! everyone cheered), humor, bit of fluff... oh inaccurate depictions of the 2022 season sorry

word count: 7k

Charles is a bit disappointed the pretty girl he harbors a crush on doesn’t have him listed as a Formula 1 crush. He is a lot disappointed that you two can’t fuck.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... degradation, praise, charles is a bit switchy here lol, penetrative sex, a bit of ass play sorry...., oral (m receiving), semi public sex, yeah

title from this. i love u guys im so sleepy

Joris insists there’s some big present waiting for Charles in his car, to celebrate the middle of the season that has, and will no doubt continue to stretch into a period of conflict and strategy woes. He yanks off the beanie sitting on his head, listens to small talk drifting between Joris and Carlos as they all walk toward their cars to alleviate the bubble of nerves in the low of his stomach.

Sure enough, there’s an unassuming box lying on the driver’s seat. Joris slides into the passenger seat after Carlos drives away with his girlfriend, his grin shit-eating and mischievous. The door is half open when Charles takes the box to inspect it. White, with the Ferrari logo printed neatly on the centre (very classy touch), the sides are signed by different members of his team. He scratches through the seal and pulls the flap open.

He’s been given a quasi-official Ferrari box of condoms.

Thirty-six condoms, at that, small squares neatly lined up next to each other. Talk about a welcoming present. Not a camera, not racing memorabilia, not a new pair of shoes. Just condoms. Thirty-six of them.

“A mid-season pick-me-up,” presses his friend, giddily. The shorter male lounges comfortably on the seat, a blissful look of pride on his face. Laughing with exasperation, Charles wedges the box shut and tosses it carelessly into the backseat, preparing to drive. This isn’t his first rodeo with weird gifts—he’s half-sure he got adoption papers from an especially excited fan once before.

“You are such an asshole.”

“It’s also a congratulations on winning literally every race so far present,” Joris adds. It’s hyperbole but has a ring of truth to it. As the season closes, Charles’ chances of holding up the trophy this year increase.

Despite himself, Charles has a better outlook on his chances for the remainder of the season, driving-wise. He’s given it his all so far, and the rest looks promising enough. He only hopes he’s right. Netflix also increased the amount of people getting into the sport, so he’s dealing with tons more fans and nosey DMs, but it’s not too much of an impediment to a hopefully stellar season.

Charles makes a right. “Do you plan to use them?” Joris asks then, a teasing tone taking on his voice as he scrolls through his phone.

“No, not really,” Charles says, lying straight through his teeth.

“You’re a fucking liar, you are.” He whips his head toward Charles, observing his stoic side profile. “You’re single, haven’t gotten laid in months—”

“—weeks.” Corrects Charles with a cough, the defense coming at an embarrassing speed.

“…Case in point. And sports gets everyone horny. And if you didn’t know, Mattia actually OK-ed the condoms, so you’ve basically been greenlit by your boss to fuck half the world. Thank me later. I’m proud of myself.”

“Sports gets everyone competitive. Because it’s sports. Which, you’re conveniently forgetting, is my life profession.”

“Loosen up,” Joris whistles lowly. “You think Lewis got seven titles by being a closed-off celibate? It’s practically tradition to fuck around if you’re single in sports. And, for others, being in a relationship is barely an obstacle, anyway.”

Charles hates to admit that Joris is right—because he is. Racing isn’t racing without the extravagant parties that follow, and the girls and guys brought back to hotels for reasons known to everyone. People from everywhere come to the paddock and the clubs—models, influencers, actors. The pent-up energy has to go somewhere, he supposes.

But even if the little shit is right, Charles still maintains a level of dignity. Ergo, he’s steadfast in his belief that he will not be sleeping around or putting this godforsaken box of condoms to any semblance of use while the rest of the season progresses. He just hopes he won’t eat his words.

—

Monza kicks off with a 1-2 and secures Charles with a comfortable lead ahead Max.

He is high on adrenaline all night, toasting and chugging to the win, snapping pictures with Carlos, proud out of his mind. It’s everything he’s wanted and more, a quench to the thirst he’d developed over the season, a slap in the face to his doubters, a kiss on his. He texts his family, friends who aren’t present, some other people who he feels are deserving of a personal announcement, and pockets his phone.

“Now would be a great time to put that gift to use,” Carlos says at some point, when everyone in the garage is kicking back alcohol and slowly preparing to move the celebrations someplace else.

Charles cringes visibly, having almost forgotten about the dreaded gift, and totally forgotten Carlos’ knowledge of it. Even with the recent win, he’s already thinking of the next, the promise of a two-peat, another podium, hell, another 1-2. The condoms were honest to God the last thing on his mind.

They break apart an hour later, when Charles is heading to the hotel and Carlos is headed somewhere else. He’s almost to the exit when someone calls his attention in a curt English voice.He turns and finds Lewis jogging toward him, outside of his race suit and back in the fashionable apparel Charles merely wishes he could pull off.

“Lewis,” he waves, pacing toward him to save the extra few seconds of waiting.

“Amazing, amazing race, man,” the elder compliments. “You’ve got the best chance at the title here.”

Warmth melts into Charles’ body and he offers praise back, which—praising Lewis is just about the easiest thing in the world. Nerves bleed out of him as the conversation continues, the atmosphere of a finished race a welcome accompaniment to their strategic talk.

“Headed to a party, yeah?” Lewis asks when they’ve both exhausted the topic. Charles gives a half-hearted shrug, already energized enough from such a momentous win, and he nods in response. “Nah, I get it. Sometimes you just gotta sleep. But hey, if you’re ever free, we should go get dinner sometime.”

—

The “dinner sometime” happens in Singapore. Having gotten P1 beside Lewis and therefore once again high off the adrenaline, Charles claps Andrea on the back and retrieves his phone to view two texts. One reads Put the condoms to use yet, champ? from Joris, and the other Can I take you up on the dinner? from Lewis. One goes answered and the other goes muted on his iMessage.

A little something he failed to remember was Lewis’ plant-based diet, a fact that hurtles back toward him when he can’t find steak on the menu of this classy, hole-in-the-wall type of restaurant. Of course Lewis would know these types of places, he thinks. He’s a millennial semi-hipster with a separate Instagram account for his dog.

Charles ends up ordering pasta, and Lewis beside him orders a cacophony of very vegan, hippy sounding meals, the quantity of which could feed the two of them. “I hope you don’t mind,” Lewis says when the waiter departs, “but a friend is actually joining us tonight.”

“Sure,” Charles says honestly. As long as it’s not some deranged hyperfan, he does well in social situations. Right then, Lewis calls someone over. Charles looks up, squints through the dim mood lighting to try and make out the nearing figure. And then you’re sitting down across them, smiling softly, exchanging hellos with Lewis.

A little something Lewis fails to remember is his “friends” can just as well be called “celebrities,” because he is, after all, a sporting legend. So if Lewis says “friend,” Charles will assume it’s a “friend,” and not a world-famous model whose face is plastered everywhere on and offline.

“Charles Leclerc,” he says blankly.

You introduce yourself, sliding easily into a bout of questions, apologies for missing the race, you’re impossibly jetlagged, it’s crazy. Lewis chips in with something about how he’s already ordered food for the both of you, and this and that, and Charles is hopeless, staring at your face the entire time. He hopes he looks more sexy than aloof or, worse, starstruck, because it’s turning out to be the kind of situation where he looks like the deranged hyperfan, and not the other way around for once.

To be clear, Charles isn’t a fan of you. He just knows of you, because honestly, who doesn’t at this point? You’re talking on and on about how your latest shoot with Jacquemus was a pain because you shot in a tank top in sub-zero weather, but you express it like it’s the most profound topic on Earth.

Lewis turns to him and, in an (eventually successful) effort to include more of Charles in the conversation, goes, “She’s a big Formula One fan, Charles.”

Okay. Common ground. Charles lifts both brows smugly, his eyes flickering back over to you. “Really?”

You meet his eyes and smile, looking downward and blinking owlishly. You’re so pretty, long lashes fluttering as you blink and try to find an answer. Christ, you’re so painfully his type.

Lewis chimes in again—“Really. And not just because she and I are friends. I mean she was into racing before we got acquainted. Honestly. Quiz her and everything”—then excuses himself to “take a call.” (His phone wasn’t even ringing—total bullshit—but Charles is ultimately grateful for it.)

You make a face of shut up toward the departing Lewis, and Charles exhales a quiet laugh at your defiance. You clear your throat and come up with an answer.

“I’m not a big fan,” you say. “I’m more of a casual, ‘every once in a while’ type of fan.”

“That’s what every big fan of sports says,” Charles says smoothly.

“Is it?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, making a tch noise. You chuckle before going, “Well, if you insist, I’ll be honest. I didn’t want it to come to this, but okay. I am a fan… of Red Bull.”

Charles fakes extreme offense, his jaw dropping as if totally scandalized. You laugh, throwing two hands up in faux surrender. “Not Red Bull,” he says, his tone making him sound even more devastated. “You’re telling me you—don’t tell me you think Max Verstappen is attractive.”

“I mean, a bit!”

Charles makes sarcastic sounds of disapproval, and you laugh. Charles leans forward, and you do, too, both of you smiling. “So you’re into the angry drivers?”

“I’m not into a specific kind of driver,” you say casually, your tongue peeking out to lick over your bottom lip. Your voice is as soft as it is firm, slow and demure, matching the way your eyes glint. You’re impossibly pretty. He almost can’t handle it.

“So who’s making the cut?” He prompts, interested.

“Well, for starters, drivers who are my age,” you say slowly. “I turned twenty-four this year, so anyone within that bracket.”

“Oh?” Charles pretends to delve into deep thought, teasing. “Maybe Stroll? He’s very funny, speaks good English. You can never really say no to a Canadian.”

Your face warms, and you hope your flustered state isn’t too obvious as you shake your head. “He seems fun, but I prefer somebody a bit… a bit older.”

“Older…” he hums. “Pierre, perhaps? Tad bit older, real charming, great driver. I can introduce you. We’re good friends, you know.”

You click your tongue, smiling shyly. You bite your lip and it takes everything in Charles to not turn on his horny gears when he sees you, big eyes and lip bite, look so pretty. “You tease me,” you say meekly. Charles covers a cough with a chuckle and adjusts his position on the seat.

Later, after Lewis comes back in (“Long call, eh? It was about Roscoe.” Bullshit again) and you all get to order drinks, and you’ve departed in your private car, pressing an air kiss to Lewis and waving goodbye to Charles, he turns to the Mercedes driver and hums.

“Next time you have one of these”—he points to the restaurant, gestures to the front door—“dinners, let me know, okay?”

“Ah.” Lewis winks, smirking. “I’ll be sure to.”

—

Understandably, your schedules never seem to mesh well together. Lewis ends up giving Charles your number as compensation.

He stares at the contact longer than he’d like to admit, when he’s marinating in the sweltering heat of Austin. He’s finished much of his work for this half of the day so he’s mostly watching the engineers work on the last bits of modification for Sunday; he cherishest the free time and drafts, reads, and rereads texts, scours Google and Instagram for pictures of, and anything related to, you.

There’s a few new articles about buying a new car (a Benz, much to Charles’ chagrin) and new photoshoots intermittently scattered across Europe, with all sorts of brands. He sees a picture you’ve posted of yourself smiling at the camera and thinks of how pretty it would look as his lockscreen.

Am I seeing you soon? He texts finally. He hopes it’s enough to let you know who he is.

Hopefully is the reply. He smiles the whole day.

—

You’ve been texting and calling almost everyday, conversations stretching continents. He only sees you next in Mexico, Friday night, at a club Lewis has rented out for a crazy price that will no doubt be replenished in days anyway. He’s dropped to second here, but the thrill riding in him makes up for his disappointment. The place is so crowded—everyone and their mums seem to have been invited here—room blinking purple and blue, each step vibrating with the heavy bass of EDM. He catches you right as you exit the washroom area, and you look pleasantly surprised to see him.

He saw you earlier, when you were doing shots of tequila and chatting with with Bella and Lewis, but just as quickly as he spotted you, you’d dipped back into the sea of people. Now is better, he thinks. You two are alone.

“Charles, hi,” you say casually. You’re wearing a tight top and a short skirt that, despite Charles’ best efforts, always cast his gaze downward. He wonders what’s underneath, hungers to get his hands there. But he’s nothing if he’s not patient, willing to play the long game.

He takes a step forward, his gaze steady on you. Charles isn’t the tallest driver, but he’s got a big presence. You swallow, taking a step back to accommodate him. He smirks. “You look pretty.”

“You flatter me,” you say thickly, smiling, inviting him closer. The air is hot around the both of you—when your eyes flit around, they see nobody. You’re alone together. His eyes pierce into yours so deep you feel like breaking eye contact, exhaling as you take another step back—evidently, you’re distracted, because you stumble.

His arm circles around your waist, and once you steady, the hand moves down to your hip. It stays, a reminder of what you might be getting soon. You smile curtly, wondering what this might look like to a bystander, a stranger. Somebody might want to piss and walk in to see the strongest world champion contender’s hand on Chanel’s poster girl’s waist.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly against your ear.

“More than.” You say, breath shaky. “It’s more than okay.”

He chuckles. “Good. I’d hate if we couldn’t fuck before Abu Dhabi.”

Your finger traces down and wraps around the belt loop of his jeans. “Who said anything about fucking?”

Charles exhales a laugh, his lips curling upward into an amused smile. “Ah? I can’t fuck you, then?”

“I’ll let you fuck me when you’re holding up the world champion trophy,” you say sweetly, tugging him closer. “That’s okay, right?” You stare up at him, blinking, pouty. He wonders, is this how you might look with your lips wrapped around his—

“That’s about a month away.” His composure barely wavers, his hand traveling lower, blunt nails digging into your ass. Your breath hitches.

“I’m aware,” you say lowly. So be it, Charles thinks—he’s got thirty-six condoms for a reason.

“Define fuck,” he says, voice rough.

“Penetration.” You’re quick with it, cocking your head to the side. You lean back confidently, testin him, eyes batting flirtatiously.

It’s time he get a little creative.

—

Daytime weather is hot and the paddock is swarming with people, but Charles has his sights set on somebody sitting in the Mercedes hospitality. He manages to get out of morning meetings earlier, wedging himself out of the room and passing by a mirror to fix his hair with admirable concentration. He’s in the middle of combing through it when a force tugs at the hem of his polo, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Uh—Carlos? What the hell?” He asks, brow raised defensively. Facing him are Carlos, Joris, and Pierre, arms crossed over their torsos and amused expressions on their faces.

“What are you doing?” Asks Pierre, cocking his head to the side.

“Fixing my hair.”

“Pussy appointment?” Joris interjects; the vulgarity of his statement earns him a poke on the side from Carlos, who clicks his tongue.

“Wh—I don’t—”

“You are shit at lying, mate,” says Pierre, his lips curled into a devious smile. “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody,” he lies.

“Charles,” says Lewis suddenly from behind them, waving his arms to get the former’s attention, “are you going to go over and say hi?”

Hook, line, and sinker. He’s been caught. “Well, well, well,” Carlos starts, mischievous.

“Guys—” Charles says, attempting to make an excuse.

“Looks like your vow of celibacy isn’t so far off after all,” Pierre adds. “That one over at Mercedes is going to break it, eh?”

“Yeah.” Joris says, smirking. “Lucky George, huh.”

The three face him, incredulous. “I was kidding,” he fibs, once he realizes his epiphany is wrong. “Kidding.”

Charles walks off, and ends up seeing you right where he expected you, sitting beside Lewis in a tiny dress with your hair pinned up into a bun. Almost naturally, your words fall into the flirtatious back-and-forth you’d started at the dinner, hyperaware of the cameras snapping your pictures. At some point, the Brit excuses himself to “take a call” (again, bullshit) and leaves the two of you alone.

“See anything nice on the paddock?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with a teasing smile, head cocking to the side to gauge his reaction. He chuckles.

“Did you get a picture with Max?”

“Only a ton.” You pause. “And Daniel, too.”

“Ah, you’re just crushing on the whole paddock, now are you?” He pokes his tongue into his cheek, leans forward.” Uh, Checo?”

“Pass,” you say with a nose scrunch. You’re so fucking pretty.

“Lewis.”

“God, pass. He’s not ugly, but he’s my brother at this point.”

“Pierre.”

“Horribly French, but… smash.”

“Are you not into the French?” He smiles. “Good to know. Hmm—Carlos.”

“I’d be stupid to say anything other than smash.” You narrow your eyes, licking over your lips. “I’m into the Ferrari guys, is the thing.” His gaze travels to your crossed legs, long and disappearing into the hem of your dress.

He smirks. “Are you?”

“I really am,” you hum.

“Are you staying long? All weekend?”

“Yeah, I’m free from work for now,” you say casually. “Any recommendations on what fun things I can do here?”

“I can think of…” he says, smirking a little. “A few.”

—

Stupid places to have sex, number one: a motorhome.

Still, Charles is crowding you up against the wall of the room, swallowing the whimper that leaves your mouth with his own. And still, this isn’t sex. At least not the kind he wants the most. He mentally praises Carlos for being able to decipher the typo-laden text he’d sent out on the way here, one hand around your waist, the other barely capable of typing with how fast his brain ran. Clesr the fuckng room npw now npw it read. Thank God.

Your mouth tastes like champagne, and everywhere else smells divine. Your hands roam impatiently over his shoulders and you make muted noises of frustration at your inability to pull his shirt off. You settle for letting your hands crawl underneath it, stroking over his abs.

“D’you remember what I told you,” you pant, his lips insistent on your neck, “at the club?”

“Yeah,” he says, grunting at the memory.

“Okay.” You breathe. “Let me suck you off.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “Jesus. Okay. Fuck.”

You giggle, and he watches intently as you drop onto your knees, looking up at him through thick lashes. You’re insistent, pulling the zip of his jeans down and tugging his cock out. It’s pretty, thick like the rest of him, already hard.

He’s at his limit, having you here like this, on you knees and stretching your lips around the tip of his dick. Your eyes barely leave his, fluttering as they tear up when you take him in your throat.

He throws his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, lets a hand unpin your bun and thread itself into the untangled hair. If he looks at you, he’ll see your head bobbing up and down on his cock, and he genuinely needs to hold off the orgasm first.

He rocks forward into your mouth and feels your throat close up around him. That’s enough to weaken his resolve, send grunts out of his throat that he can’t keep quiet.

“Oh, shit,” he says, feeling every part of your mouth and throat around him, warm and tense. He can’t help but thrust harder, steady but not too rough, growing more aroused with every sound of you choking on him.

His gaze flickers toward you. You’re teary-eyed, lips dotted with spit, choking yourself on his cock. Just for him, here in public. You pull off, blinking tears away from your face and looking up at him smilingly.

He laughs, guiding his cock back into your mouth, watching the way your brows knit together, pleading, almost. You're at his mercy, he thinks, thrusting harder, listening to your coughs. He loves seeing you like this, innocent face messy and slick with spit and precum, eyes big and needy.

“You like that?” He grunts. “Look at me.”

You nod the best you can. Yes, you want to say. Give me more, I love it.

“Yeaaah, fuck. I know you do,” he says through his teeth, staving off his orgasm the best he can before he releases all over you. The image alone of streaking you with his cum, claiming you all over-eyelashes, tits, cheeks splashed with cum-is enough to send him closer to the edge. “Gonna cum,” he grunts.

You moan around him, the vibrations causing his eyelids to flutter. You shake your head, pulling off and wrapping your hand around his dick, stroking slower. “Not yet,” you say sweetly, watching him throw his head back in pleasure and frustration. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair, exhales shakily.

“Shit.” He whines. “Come on, baby. Make me cum.” He cups your jaw, stares down at you.

You stroke him faster, lip between your teeth. “Okay,” you say with a smile. “Cum for me, Charles.”

He stops staving himself off, falls into the pleasure and relief of your hand around his cock until he’s tense all over, knitting his hand into your hair and pushing you backwards so he can press his tip on the flat expanse of your tongue and let his cum shoot there. It drips from your tongue and lips onto your chin and you giggle, swallowing it, scooping up the rest to push into your mouth.

You stand, licking your lips slowly. “I owe you,” he pants, zipping himself up. Already he’s thinking about what he can do to you in return. Tease you, like you did him, bend you over his lap or sit you on it and make you whine and writhe and wait and cum.

“I’ll hold you to that, champion,” you murmur, kissing his cheek and slipping back outside.

—

Ferrari’s advice is shit and despite his good mood and quick-witted driving, Charles finishes in fifth—not too shabby, but disastrous for his overall standings.

He suffers through a horrible debrief where attempts to defend his honor go unheard, his mood wilting and wilting until he’s at the media pen and ushered in front of some network he hasn’t heard of. They’ve probably paid to get a good seat here.

He’s in a shit mood, he hasn’t seen Joris or Pierre or you in hours, and has only faced red-faced frustrated superiors and now, wide-eyed journalists with loose mouths. The media’s done the mandatory speculation between the two of you, so he already expects questions of that variety, but it’s still hot and angry when he does.

Are you banging the Marc Jacobs model? The Irish reporter asks with a wink, so very unprofessional and not at all belonging to reputable media. The hot leggy one who has fuck me eyes?

Charles clenches his jaw, rolls his eyes, says fuck off mate and shoves him backward a little, then walks away and readjusts his cap. The clip makes Twitter and he feels even worse with the amount of troll accounts telling him to Jeez, take a joke.

After the ordeal, in your hotel room, you sigh softly and run your hands through his still shampoo-smelling hair. “You didn’t need to do that,” you say, a bit strictly. He knows you’re grateful, though, and a bit proud.

“I wanted to,” he insists softly. He forgets to leave before morning; when he does, he forgets his official Ferrari shirt hanging on the seat, leaving in a spare one instead. It’s got his number across the back. You don’t tell him.

—

In between Mexico and Sao Paulo, he manages to catch a flight to New York to peek into one of your photoshoots. It’s for Chanel and he’s half-sure he’s taken more pictures of you than the official photographer did. At this point your vague relationship status has caught onto headlines everywhere, and he doesn’t miss the curious murmurs from paparazzo that follow him as he enters your apartment later to greet you.

You’re in a pair of shorts and a tank top when you open the door, greeting him with a tight hug and leading him inside with a loose grip.

“Wine?”

“Please.” He eyes the wide area, the big floor-to-ceiling windows and the art on the walls. “Hungry?”

“Mmm.” You hum, sliding a glass toward him. “Starving.”

“Pizza?”

“Something else.” You smile. He tears his eyes away from your tits, poking out of the thin cotton, and coughs.

The both of you end up on the couch, your legs draped over his as you talk about racing.

He’s ranting about how he’s neck to neck with Max now, and the final verdict will likely be decided at Abu Dhabi, a fact that sends nerves all through him. You’re listening, you really are, but it’s difficult to keep listening because his hand, big and rough, is stroking your bare calf as he talks absentmindedly.

You offer the occasional mmm-hmm and uh-huh and even the oh really to sell it, but he doesn’t seem to be conscious of how many sparks are coursing through you because of his hand on your leg. He just talks and talks, accent curving into curse words elicited by the competition.

And his voice, rough and deeper when he slides into Italian phrases, gets in your head, reminds you of the way he’d moaned when you had his dick in your mouth. You like that? he’d said, panting, heavy, hot. His hand remained in your hair, controlling you the same way you did him. Fuck.

When you blink, he’s stopped talking, and has likely noticed your wandering imagination if his teasing smile is anything to go by. You cough, clear your throat, adjust your thighs. You’re thinking—you can’t stop thinking—about what happened in Mexico, not just in the motorhome but in the club where he’d let his hand sprawl over your ass and stay there, possessive.

The tension rises. I owe you. He really does. You reach over and grab your phone from the coffee table, snap a few pictures of him. “—Hey!” He protests, scrabbling to grab it from you while balancing his half-full glass. “I look god awful.”

You stand up, review the picture. He looks so impossibly handsome. “You’re right, you do,” you say, pouting.

He reaches over again, chuckling, and you avoid him. “Foul play!”

“Tch. At least show it to me,” he says defeatedly, so you do: presenting your screen to him.

Quickly, he makes a grab for it, but you just escape his grip, ending up right in front of him and leaning over. You’re losing your balance, digging your toes into your carpet to maintain stance. He spares a glance at your shorts, riding low on your hips, showing a bit of thin lace.

Charles tugs you forward by the hem of your top and then takes your wrist into his grip—the force of his grab makes your tits shake underneath your flimsy tank top. It’s dragged down so far your tits are spilling out. His eyes flicker down to them, dark, and a pretty smile spreads across his face.

“Come on, give it,” he challenges, eyes narrowing a little. You bite your lip, inwardly liking this a little too much—being at his mercy, trapped in his strong grip. You’re flustered and it shows.

He wrestles you onto his lap with ease, his arms steady around you. You stare downwards, dark eyes meeting his, hand on his broad shoulder for leverage. He’s so pretty, you think, so hot and handsome and you need him right now. Through his jeans you can feel how thick he is, his dick growing, getting hard and huge under you. It feels big even through a few layers—you can’t help but imagine how it might feel inside you.

Your phone clatters to the carpet behind the couch. “I win,” you say breathlessly.

He grabs your hips and jerks his upward, letting his stiff dick press up even more against your shorts.

“I think I’m the winner here,” he says gruffly, hands feeling you up all over. He thumbs at your chest, rubbing over your tits. You shiver—it feels good having him on you like this, your mind turning to mush.

“Shut up,” you laugh, shakily. A hand wanders in between your thighs, another coming to squeeze your barely-covered ass. You can’t focus on much, just his hands roaming everywhere and his hard dick pressing against your core. He shoves your hips downward again, his cock hard and perfectly against your pussy.

“You feel that?” He asks; it leaves him in one low breath.

“Yeah,” you say, whimpering. “I want it.”

He grinds up against you again, his thumb teasing the hem of your shorts. Closer to where you want it. “Don’t think you could even take it, baby.”

“I hate you,” you say. “You know I can.”

He laughs. “We’ll see, yeah?” You find a rhythm of grinding down against his cock, nestled right against your ass. He’s everywhere and you can’t handle it anymore, finding yourself craving him more and more.

You moan against his neck—and then come to your senses. “No.”

He smirks when you pull away. “Tempted, were you?”

“Not…” You pause. You’re sweaty, flushed all over, and your panties are sticking to you from how wet you’ve grown. “Not very.”

—

Abu Dhabi is a son of a bitch.

It comes with meetings, meetings, debriefs, calls, meetings. Everything is riding on the night’s race, the flurry of social media a welcome source of anxiety for him as he watches the hours whiz by. You’d missed seeing him, understood he was busy; you send a selfie to compensate and it gets him calm enough to last the pre-race buzz.

Time speeds by with lunch, coaching, drills, talks with Carlos and Mattia and even Max, who displays support as strongly as competitiveness. Before he even realizes it, he blinks and he’s in his suit, adjusting his balaclava, inhaling, exhaling. Everything is just the way he likes—needs—it to be.

He drives himself to P2 behind Max, eyes shut.

All else seeps into him, natural method, natural routine. He flexes his thumbs. Through the team radio his engineer goes good luck, and Charles’ practice bleeds into his subconscious. The air is heavy, with tension and excitement, the division of blue and red. Everyone’s eager to see who claims the title.

The lights go off and everything is left to skill, blurring into noise and turns and expletives yelled into the team radio. He can’t even feel himself think, turning with dexterity and overtaking with the kind of vengeance he hasn’t let out in a while.

For all his trying, Max keeps up just the same, keeping a neck and neck level for the relative entirety of the race. They’re milking out the last few laps together, and Charles feels every fibre of his being work toward this, just this, nothing but this right now. Nothing but the finish line.

You got this, Charles, says the engineer, voice heightening. Maiden world championship.

He nods to himself, trusts his instincts and when he catches sight of the finish line, he thinks: he’s the best driver on the grid.

So he revs faster, and the rest descends into—

Absolute fucking chaos.

—

He’s smiling when he approaches the reporter, who’s already holding the mic with wonder. He asks for a message in Italian, then reminds him—and the crowd—that, in case he forgot, he’s world champion. Charles thinks he genuinely can’t ever.

“What are you doing to celebrate?” He asks then, smiling.

Sweaty, with damp hair and shiny skin, he smirks and leans closer. “Someone, I hope.”

—

“Hey there, champ.”

You’re already leaning against his hotel room door when he gets there, after the chore of wrestling himself free from the rest of the team pressuring him to get drinks. Carlos helps out, babbles something or other about Charles being “busy with something else”—which isn't wrong, not at all. He offers a smooth wink, bending down to kiss you.

Your mouths meet, softly first then increasingly messy as he pins you against the door. You push away, breathing heavy. “I don’t know what you’re into, but I don't want the top floor of this hotel seeing us fucking.”

“I wasn’t into that, but now that you brought it up…” You swat his arm and he laughs, unlocking the door and pulling you inside. You’re clinging onto him—his arms, his chest, anything, kissing up his neck and jaw. He groans at how needy you are. All for him, he thinks. Probably soaked through your panties and it’s all because of him.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he says gently, voice low as he leads you to the bed. He catches sight of your shirt and a brow raises. “Did you buy that?”

“Hmm?” You look down, following his gaze and blinking. The shirt you’re wearing is loose, hanging off your shoulders and hastily tucked into your miniskirt so it looks like you actually have trousers on. “Oh. No, this is yours.”

“Mine.” He smiles a little. “You look so good in it, princess.” His hands mindlessly grope at you, hungry, sneaking underneath your skirt to feel at the lace there.

In retaliation, you lean forward, unbutton his jeans and tug at it.

“You left it at one of my”—you gasp, feeling his finger sneak its way beneath your panties—“my hotel rooms.”

“Pretty girl, pretty shirt, pretty lace, yeah?” He tugs, lets the garter of the skirt loosen and fall off your hips on its own. “Red.”

“You take too long,” you groan.

“You’re just eager,” he laughs, thumbing at your clothed cunt.

You’re so wet, evident even in the lazy circles he rubs over your entrance. You’re aching, desperate, begging almost. So he gives you what you want, maneuvers you onto his lap and pushes your (his) shirt up to stuff your mouth with it.

It won’t work for long, but it’s enough. He pushes your panties to the side and pulls his hard dick out. You’re sitting against it now, leaking slick onto it, at his mercy, branding his name and his number across your back. It’s hot.

He stares at the way you rock softly against him, hungry eyes meeting yours. “You’re so pretty, baby. Ruined.”

“Fuck me already,” you say, voice throaty, innocent.

“Can you take it?” He asks, teasing you, slapping his dick against your clit softly. You whine.

“Please,” you insist. “I want it. Make it fit.”

He’s a massive tease with it, his breath fanning against your skin, hands sticky on where they’ve hiked your shirt up. He lowers you, slower, against the tip of his dick and he watches your eyes flutter when you sink onto it. After ages of waiting. Your grip’s like iron on his shoulders, moans leaving you in quiet bursts of pleasure.

You’re far away, dumb from the feeling, you barely register the way he shoves the shirt back into your mouth to keep you quiet. “So fucking tight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. It’s muffled, barely intelligible. “For you.”

You’re only able to take it because you’re so wet, so turned on, face and brain filled with nothing but pleasure. He can’t take it.

“Mmmfh,” you say, muffled by the bite of cotton in your mouth. You’re sweaty, flushed, overstimulated—you don’t know where to focus. On his lips against your jaw, his hand on your neck, the way your pussy swallows his aching dick. “It’s so big, I—”

“You okay?” He asks, breathily. Smiling. He’s in control, but still he sounds whiny—almost, if not as desperate as you. “You’ll take it all for me, won’t you?”

“Oh god,” is all you muster, letting him stretch you out even more, gushing all over his cock. “I, I—”

He moans, his grip tight against your waist, watching his dick bury itself in you. “You’re getting me so full,” you whine. “So deep, I feel it—” you taper off into a moan again when he presses hs thumb to your clit, distracting you from the stretch as he finally, finally bottoms out.

“Good?”

You nod. So good, give me more.

You grind against him, let the shirt fall out of your mouth. “You’re getting my dick so wet,” he comments, breathless. “So pretty for me, too.”

Growing antsy, he attempts to move, but you whine. Your turn to tease, you think, after he was a dick to you just now. “Not yet,” you say, lip caught between your teeth. His hands are tight around your waist. Desperate.

You squeeze around him, watch his brows knit together, a grunt leave him in a frustrated exhale. “You wanna fuck me?” You tease against his neck, blinking innocently.

“Yes,” he replies, not missing a beat. You pout, like you’re empathizing with the problem you’re causing; you grind slowly against him and he lets out a guttural fuuuuck. He’s so big, so hard—you can feel every inch of him inside you.

“Tell me again, Charles,” you say with a giggle. You’re so hot like this, face flushed and timid, hips moving slowly. He could cum just from the way you bite your lip, the way a whimper slips out of you when he hits the right spot.

“—Yeah,” he says, sweetly. “I want to—please, let me fuck you. C’mon, baby, can I?”

“Aww,” you tease.

“Can I?” He asks again, voice deep and thin with the need to fuck you, thrust up into you and make you the dumb one. His face is flushed and desperate. “Can I move, baby? Let me, please.”

You’re not stupid. You know—if his flushed, pleading face and big green puppy eyes are anything to go by—that he’s going crazy, growing antsy. But you’re not complaining.

“Hmm,” you say, feigning genuine thought. “I don’t know, Charles. Feels good just like this. And you want to make me feel good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Yeah.” You repeat, staring into his dark eyes. He’s frustrated, desperate, flushed all over and sweaty. His fingers dig into your hips. “I’ll make you feel really good, baby, if you let me.”

“Go ahead,” you say softly, “fuck me, please.” And he’s thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. It’s knocking you out, almost, the pleasure of it, the dizzy onslaught of euphoria. He’s stretching you out so well, whining softly into your neck and yeah, you two have waited far too long to have this. You

“Fuck,” he grunts, lids squeezed shut and head rolled onto your shoulder. “Go on, baby, ride it, make me cum.” He cups your jaw, reaches his thumb into your mouth. It’s too much, all of it. He makes you suck on it while thrusting up, dizzying you with his cock.

He grabs handfuls of your ass, teases his thumb at your tighter asshole just to watch your eyes flutter, feel your cunt grow wetter. “I’ll fuck you even fuller next time,” he says; the implication gets you hot.

You bounce harder, chasing release as his thumb teases over your ass, the tip of it just thrusting in enough to elicit strings of moans out of you. “Come on, ride me,” he goads. “So good for me.”

“Fuck,” you pant, “cum in me, please.”

You cum first, writhing around him and riding your orgasm out in lazy grinds over his hard cock. You want to see him cum, see his eyebrows knit and his mouth release pretty whines, feel him claim you inside, hands hot and heavy on your ass. He does, with a guttural fuuuuck, shoving his dick up in you to the base and spurting all his cum in you.

He thrusts, watches his cum leak out of you, fucks it back in, in a vicious cycle. You shiver, blinking coquettishly and watching along—and then you’re both crumpling over each other on the bed behind you. You pant heavily against his chest.

“Hey.” He muses out loud, drumming against your skin.

“Yeah?”

“I have thirty-six condoms we need to go through. Wanna go on a date?”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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kazumist · 11 months

Text

when he catches you staring at him. gn!reader. fluff. wc: 456.

childe would stare back and then give you a smirk, saying, "enjoying the view?" just smack him (lightly) on the head, and he’ll stop with his corniness. though that doesn’t mean you’ll hear the end of it; it happens every time. but who are you to resist his heartwarming and welcoming smile? maybe you were enjoying the view after all.

diluc would awkwardly smile at you before asking if there was something wrong with his face and whatnot. just assure him that it’s nothing! it’s just that… he looked so pretty. diluc had never shown that he was shy in public (he’s too embarrassed for kaeya to spot him, really), but whenever he’s with you, he shows this side of him: shyness.

albedo would also stare back and give you a soft smile before continuing on with his work. albedo doesn’t always have the time in the world, so he secretly decided to show you that he still loves you in the simplest yet indirect ways possible. he feels guilty whenever he can’t always be there when you need him the most, but he tries.

zhongli is similar to diluc; he would ask you if there was something on his face. but once you tell him that you were just admiring his looks, he'll laugh. a wholesome laugh that makes you embarrassed for what you did, and he’d even apologize for making you blush. however, that’s okay; as long as the two of you are happy together, then it’s all good.

alhaitham wouldn't notice it at first; he always has his nose in a book, even when you're dating. but he gets confused when you pull his book down a bit, then proceeds to pull it back up to hide his faint blush on his ears when you say that you did it to see his pretty face better.

xiao raises an eyebrow at you. was there something on his face? he didn't know, but when he questions you about it, he coughs rather abruptly as he also tries to hide the blush that crept onto his cheeks.

kaeya stares at you right back. so technically, it becomes some sort of silly staring contest between you two. and just when you were about to win, kaeya suddenly spoke up and said, "am i that attractive to you that you just can't help but stare at me?" better luck next time.

scaramouche would blankly stare back at you. and it somehow ends up in... conversing with him? you both don't say a thing, but you're clearly talking to each other through eye contact, which is a bit strange, but not that you were complaining. "kuni, you're really pretty. did you know that?" farewell to scaramouche's composed demeanor.

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illusioninfnty · 7 months

Text

day 31 ; sex pollen

↠ buggy the clown x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1.6k warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, semi-public sex, fuck or die-ish, fingering, banter, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You know Buggy’s going to leave as soon as he gets his body back.

You’re not going to let that happen. When he finally reattaches himself, and runs off with a see ya!, you run after him.

“Stop!” you call out to him. “You need to stay and fight. We saved your ass, didn’t we?”

He turns around and sighs dramatically seeing you. “You again? Seriously sweetcheeks, would ya let me leave?”

You cross your arms, and give him the most intimidating glare you can muster. You only recently joined the crew, and you wanted to prove that you were tough enough to fight with the rest of them. Making sure that Buggy helped you guys fight Arlong and his fishmen while Luffy went to go save Nami was a way to prove yourself to them.

“I can’t let you—” you're interrupted by a fishman coming out from behind Buggy and approaching you. You whip out a dagger to prepare for his attack, but before you can get a move in he sprays some sort of powdery mist in your face, completely taking over your vision.

“Good luck trying to fight me now when you gotta deal with that,” he snickers as he runs away.

You cough and bend over, hands on your knees, as the mist lands in your nostrils and mouth. You try to swat it away in the air surrounding you, but it feels as though the mist has already gotten inside of you, and there’s no way to escape it now.

“Well, anyways, I’m going to go then,” Buggy starts, slowly backing away as he gets ready to escape.

You’re too weak to try and distracted now to try and stop him, but then your body starts to feel different. Your internal temperature skyrockets, causing beads of sweat to start dripping down your face despite the fairly average temperature outside. You can feel your body not getting hot because of that, but also the sudden arousal that threatens your core.

Your legs begin to tremble as your body aches with need, a deep feeling in your gut that you never felt before. It’s like a hunger that needs to be sated immediately, as though it were a life or death situation. It has you wanting to just stick your fingers inside of your pussy and just fuck yourself silly until you can rid yourself of this itch you can’t seem to scratch.

“W-wait!” You call out to him. You must sound extremely desperate, because Buggy actually stops and turns towards you instead of ignoring your pleas.

You swallow hard and continue. “I need…help.” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you grit out your words, embarrassed by just how much you want the stupid clown to fuck you. You can already feel how wet you are through your bottoms, and as the seconds tick by it feels as though your arousal is going to start spilling out onto the floor. “Need you to fuck me. Please.”

You’re too ashamed of your desperation to look Buggy in the face to see his reaction to your words. You only know of his answer when you fall to your knees, legs too weak to hold yourself up, and you feel his palm on your back.

“Well when you look like that, how can I say no?” Sarcasm drips in his voice, and you can tell he’s not really taking you seriously.

“I’m serious!” You try to sound as adamant as you can given how weak you feel at the moment.

“So am—” You interrupt him, finally having enough, by grabbing him by the back of his neck and smashing your lips against his own in a kiss.

His own hands move to cup your face, and you open your mouth up to let his tongue in. As the kiss becomes sloppy, you start to rid yourself of your clothes, needing your body to cool down.

He pulls away as he sees you baring yourself to him, eyes widening and a smirk overtaking his face. “Woah, didn’t realize you wanted to fuck me so badly. I would’ve happily done it if you were nice and asked.”

You don’t have it in you to protest him now. Instead you move your fingers inside of you, your juices gushing out of you despite the lack of attention your pussy had been receiving.

“The shit he sprayed me with,” you start. You lay yourself on the ground, arching your back as you piston your fingers in and out of you, praying that you find your release soon.

Buggy hums in thought. “I should be thanking him, then. Got myself a nice view.”

“You can do that after you fuck me.” The next thing you know his cock is inside of you, and he’s thrusting with the vigor of a man starved. You moan and arch yourself into him, your hands scrambling as they claw at his back. You wrap your legs around him, wanting to keep him close as his thick cock ruts into you.

You don’t think sex had ever felt this good before. Your juices are squirting out of you, proving to be a great replacement for lube, and your walls clench down hard on Buggy’s cock, like a vice. He groans above you as you tighten your grip around him, walls fluttering as they refuse to let him leave you.

The pleasure is too much for you to bear, and you can hardly talk. Your eyes roll back into your head and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, drool escaping the corners of your lips.

All that comes out of your mouth and pathetic whimpers and breaths of yes, yes, yes as Buggy fucks you with reckless abandon.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grits out as his muscles bulge from holding you down with so much force. His hips collide with your own, the sounds of your skin slapping loud enough to draw the attention of anyone who would’ve been in the vicinity of the two of you. “Shoulda fucked you when I first saw you. Lookin’ all cute in slutty in your little pirate getup.”

You know you should feel insulted by the way he technically insinuated you were “playing” pirate, but the horny, afflicted side of you only chooses to focus on the yearning in his voice of wanting to fuck you, and how his cock is hitting parts of you that make you see stars.

It comes to no surprise to you that your orgasm is already closely approaching within minutes of having Buggy’s cock fucking into you. Your nails dig into his skin, and your whines increase in pitch and speed.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Buggy groans as you clench down even harder around his cock, as impossible as it may seem, and your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. You can only gasp out curses as you squirt all over his cock, your juices rushing out of you wildly.

Your release soaks yourself and him, both inside and out. Buggy’s orgasm isn’t too far behind as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm and soon he’s moaning lowly in your ear and filling you to the brim.

A sudden rush of calmness washes over you as Buggy’s cum fills you up. It’s like all of the horniness and desperation for sex escapes your body as soon as it comes into contact with his cum. Your body temperature returns to normal, and the shaking of your body is solely in response to your orgasm instead of the deep aching within your core that seemed as though it could never be satiated.

You hold onto him for a couple of moments longer, catching your breath and coming down from your high as Buggy’s arms also remain wrapped around you and his cock stays nestled inside your entrance.

It’s then that you hear your name being called out in the distance. It seems as though while you were affected by the mist powder, your crew had completed all they set out to do.

Not wanting them to see you in the precarious situation you’re in, covered in juices and Buggy on top of you, still inside your entrance, you scramble away from him. Stumbling as you put your pants back on, ignoring the way his cum pools out of you, you give him a kick to his side.

“Ow!” He whines, rubbing the area you made contact with.

“Get out of here!” you whisper to him, despite no one being around you for probably miles out. “If they see us like this I’m totally screwed!”

He rolls his eyes, but still goes to stand up and get dressed again. “Oh, what? Embarrassed to be seen with me? Real original.”

Your eyes narrow and you cross your arms. “I am trying to make a good impression with my crew, and this—” your hands gesture to yourself and Buggy—“is not going to help that.”

Buggy holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.” He begrudgingly begins to leave by walking backwards, his eyes on yours the entire time. “Next time we meet, I'll have you help me out with something.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that makes you want to cringe, yet you can’t find it in yourself to dismiss him completely.

You shoo him away, ignoring the way heat rises to your cheeks. “Maybe. Now scram.”

You see your crew approach just as Buggy is out of sight. Thinking about your encounter with him more, technically, your mission was a success. You’d call it a win in your books.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece x reader #one piece smut #opla x reader #opla smut #one piece live action x reader #opla buggy #opla buggy the clown

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satoruhour · 8 months

Note

requesting jealous racer gojo with this scene!! https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSN8XvT2Y/ DK as gojo; From afar, Gojo caught his girlfriend chatting with a new racer and the new guy have no idea that the reader is gojo's girl 🥹🥹🥹🥹

a/n: REEEAAALLLLL! find the au masterlist here. loser daisuke makes a return !!!!

warnings: mentions of sexual harassment, assault (against daisuke) — uh dont do this in real life guys !!!!!!, mentions of ejaculation, public teasing & makeout

it was no secret gojo was a naturally possessive man — always glaring at anyone who even took a glimpse of you in your miniskirts or needing to have an arm around your waist whenever you conversed with another racer; whoever you chatted with also knew not to cross too many lines.

what gojo liked the most, though, was always having you run into his arms after every successful win, swooping into your arms and looking at whatever man who’s staring at your ass and then kissing you right on your mouth. the sour scowl on their faces are his favourite part.

so when you’re looking over the condition of your boyfriend’s friends’ cars — geto’s Mazda and nanami’s ’68 Dodge Charger — and checking that their engines could cool down in time for the next race, you’re pleasantly surprised when a man comes up to you without knowing the repercussions he’s about to receive, looking interestedly at the heavy duty metal you’re handling.

“you know you wouldn’t have that heating problem with a V8.” he smugly explains, leaning against the hood of your boyfriend’s car that you have half a mind to ask him to get off — you know how pissed he could get when random people lean on it — but you think you’d see how far this guy would go just for a piece of your ass (plus, your boyfriend loved you too much to put any ounce of blame on you). you’re no stranger to the weirdos around these parts, getting unwarranted slaps on your butt and caresses along your waist that inch too close to your chest, and all they get in return is one sweet, clean punch to their face.

“don’t need to bruise your pretty knuckles for these degenerates, baby.” gojo kisses your temple after knocking a guy unconscious, returning your sick grin right after you dig your heel into their face. “that’s my girl!”

you’re far from the police chief’s daughter after all those years, amusing the man just for a bit with a cute tilt of your head and a pop of your hips. you roll your eyes when you see how he licks his lips, eyes flicking down to your too short skirt.

“all you men care about is who’s got the biggest and better engines,” you click your tongue. even with your half-assed attitude, he takes it as a sign to advance, following you like a lost dog after you monitor nanami’s LS3, which was significantly cooler than geto’s 13B-REW. you take out your flip phone to shoot a text to the race coordinator.

nanamis car gud 2 go 1st. engines cooldown is faster than getos

but all he thinks is that it’s a green light that you wanted his number — he was probably patting himself on the back, didn’t even need any effort to woo you!

all gojo does is look at the ruckus from half a mile away, not listening to a word shoko was saying about her car; not even the cigarette smoke blowed into his face did anything, well, except for make him cough a little. shoko sports a little grin when she follows his line of sight.

“who’s the loser?” gojo asks, pushing off of her car and eyeing how you’d handle the situation. he knew you could hold your own perfectly fine, but with each stupid face the man makes, he’s driven to walk up to help you.

“some douche named wakashita daisuke, heard of him?” shoko replies boredly, tsks when her friend shakes his head, “fucked him for some parts. mediocre dick game.”

gojo scoffs, “not surprised.”

“y’all race with these lame engines, then?” daisuke seemingly had embarrassed himself with reaching out for your phone, seeing as you pocket it right after sending the text, but that doesn’t stop the man one bit. he continues to ramble about the pros of a V8 long after you’ve removed the hood struts from under the two cars. popping the hood to gojo’s car and you successfully shut him up when he sees the RB26DETT engine. albeit, only for five seconds before he starts spouting stupid crap again.

out of the corner of your eyes, you can see a head of white approaching and you hope the corners of your lips don’t give away the fact that he’s about to earn himself a beating. the feel of satoru’s arms around your waist infiltrate your senses first, and then his voice.

“you feelin’ lucky today?” he asks uninterestedly from your shoulder and your hands naturally hold onto his arms. you can feel him fiddling with your belt, and you’re almost 100% he’s pushing his pelvis into yours.

“the girl or the car?” daisuke smirks and you want nothing but to curb-stomp his annoying fucking face. gojo is close to doing it though, but you’re holding him back with a squeeze to his hand; all he replies with is a kiss to your neck, and he thinks this guy must have balls of steel or he’s just insanely dumb because the piercing blue stare satoru gives doesn’t faze him one bit.

“you—”

“baby, leave it.” you whisper, removing his hands from your waist gently and walking over to daisuke with calculated, slow steps. the interaction garners a lot of eyes especially for someone with enough guts to flirt with the gojo satoru’s girl, but you do something unexpected, tracing a finger up his chest and pull at his t-shirt, yanking him right down to your boyfriend’s engine and you nod towards it.

“tell me about it.”

daisuke thinks he’s scored and he leans over the Skyline with both elbows and you follow, sticking your ass out. gojo’s used to this sight and it never gets old, but the smile on his face turns into a glower once the other tries to take a glance as well. you notice it, too.

“engine. i wanna know allll ’bout it . .” you give him a sweet smile and daisuke looks like he could come on the spot — a premature ejaculation for an idiot like him — and he shoots off into a passionate ramble. all of which was wrong, by the way, but you let him have his fun before you’re straightening up and—

plop!

you remove the hood strut and the hood of the Nissan Skyline closes right on his back and there’s a pained scream from under his hood and gojo just laughs out loud. you hear a few other laughs from your spectators, too.

“that’s my baby.” gojo sashays up to you with a smirk, pushing you against the not so flat hood of his car, where it’s moving from daisuke’s flailing body. he’s not too concerned about the damage if he continues to press you onto the uneven parts; he’s got money, no big deal.

like usual, gojo isn’t shy about affection and he goes right for your lips, curling both arms around your waist while one hand gets distracted and squeezes your ass. you’re only able to fit your upper back along the hood as you bend back, moaning exaggeratedly for daisuke to hear.

“hmm . . it’s a little too high, don’t you think, ’toru?” gojo only caresses your hips in response, slotting his thigh between your legs and now it’s going into dangerous territory. you let out a soft whine.

“yep, definitely too high.”

with one swift movement of your heel, you knee daisuke and he falls, both of you jerking down lower on the hood — the edge of the car is probably digging into daisuke’s back by now, but it’s nothing a little money can’t fix.

“sooo much better,” gojo grins, hovering over your body now as his words ignite flames along your lips and the deep kiss leaves you dizzy. he swallows your sounds easily, but he knows when to quell his needs — after satoru’s race is when you’ll be treated for being such a brave girl, not that you need any reason in the first place.

at the end of the day, you’ll forever be satoru’s lucky charm and the only one in his eyes.

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thehighladywrites · 4 months

Text

— “Let’s try something new.”

pairing: professor eris x reader, feyre makes an appearance

summary: Eris surprises you with a little surprise before your exam. After a fun session you insist on going home, so your friends won’t see you. But what happens when he’s nowhere near?

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smutty scenes, fem reader, professor x student relationship, both are obviously of age,semi public sex, remote controlled vibrator, eris both slightly degrading and praising (love that),kidnapping oop👀

amara’s note: this is kind of a wild one, we also get new info of eris’s background👀 this is especially dedicated for all the eris haters and antis💗 if u find any typos, your eyes are deceiving you. Also yes I know reader getting kidnapped is SO 2014 wattpad y/n with her orbs getting sold to a mafia boss coded but it’s for the plottttt🫡🫡

part 1 part 2 part 2,5 part 3

The sound of the loud fan and random coughs echoed through the silent lecture hall, the only sounds where the clicking of mechanical pens and the rustle of turning paper.

The literature exam wasn’t really something you were worrying about since you were dating eris so you just sat there looking pretty, thinking of ways to have fun with him later on. Life really was more beautiful when you didn’t have to worry about stuff like exams and hard work.

Eris always taught you the night after anyways. And it was much more fun being in his bed as he’s teaching you things, giving you rewards if you answer correctly and punishments if you answered incorrectly.

Your thighs clenched at the idea and you subtly bit your thumb at the thought of tonight.

You felt a zap in your lower stomach, clenching your legs even harder as you remembered that you had a vibrator in you. That’s right, you nearly forgot about the way Eris had slutted you out on his desk before asking if you wanted to try something new today.

He had pulled out an oval shaped, bright pink little vibrator. It was shapes like a U so that it was nestled deep against your g-spot while stimulating the clit at the same time.

At first you were a bit embarrassed at the way he just casually put it in your palm for you to examine. His eyes had darken at the way your cheeks had heated. The goosepumps, indicating your excitement, almost made him pounce on you again.

“It’s not very big. You sure this will feel nice?”

He smiles, gently pushing your hair behind your ear before planting a soft kiss on your plush lips.

“I assure you, you will feel pleasure.”

You decided to be petty, stirring the pot a little.

“Interesting. And how exactly do you know that this feels nice? Have you tested it on other girls?”

His lips twitch in a smirk.

“I’ve tested it on myself.”

Your eyes widen at his casual answer. Eris in bed playing with himself sounded like grade A masturbation material, holy fuck.

His smirk only widened at your shocked face.

“Why deprive myself of such pleasure?”

You nodded, your mind feeling a bit fuzzy.

“Uh-huh. You really shouldn't. And neither should I. So, please put it in me.”

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You obey, lolling out your tounge as he puts the toy in your mouth for you to wet.

You hop of his desk and turn around, bending over as you push your skirt up. His hand massages your ass before slapping it, enjoying the way you yelp.

Eris glances down at his F.P. Journe, clicking his tongue at the amount of time remaining before his hall fills with bothersome students.

He can’t wait for the day you graduate and he can finally leave this fucking place. There’s really nothing keeping him here anymore except you. He finally found a legal business he can use as a front so there was really no need to keep playing professor.

It really fucking irked him that teaching a bunch of hormornal idiots was the job his father had decided to use as a front for the business. But money had to come legally from somewhere right?

Convincing people that the mansion was an ancient family estate passed down through generations proved ridiculously easy. Despite the entire place being new, the idiots didn't bother checking the details.

You wiggle a bit, trying to get him out of his thoughts before the doors infront of you opened. Eris quickly put the toy in with a grin, not surprised by how easy it slid in considering how many times he had you finishing on his tounge.

You rise and shift your weight between your feet, ensuring everything feels just right.

“Oh, i just feel light pressure. Will people hear it?”

“No, not at all. Do you want to try it out before you sit down?”

You nod then almost fall to your knees at the strong vibrations. Letting out a sharp gasp you grab onto his shirt, curling your fist in his shirt.

“How do you feel, my love?”

You take a step closer, resting your head on his steady, beating heart.

“Good. I feel really fucking good.”

Once again, he slaps your ass and this time it feels so much better.

“Mind your language.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you jerk him down and kiss him hard, licking and biting his lips before grabbing your bag and using the side entrance to leave the hall, only to come in with the other students through the big doors.

—

Class started 5 minutes late because Eris needed his hard on to calm down. He was for sure getting you back for it. So when he opened the doors, he told everyone you had assigned seats because of the exams when in reality, he wanted you to have the last row to yourself. There was no one sitting in the back except for you so there was plenty of room for some fun.

The test, a multi-page character analysis and study on one of the course books, was handed to you by Eris along with a few extra pens to occupy yourself. But you still tried your best. He was still your professor and you really wanted to show him that you belonged in his class, you wanted to make him proud of you.

All that flew out of your mind when he started the toy, making your whole body tense before relaxing.

Eris started explaining everything to the class and asked if anyone had any questions before starting.

Then the bastard looked dead into your eyes and asked while he upped the speed,

“Any questions in the back?”

You clenched your legs together and gripped your pen so hard it started to crack,

“No professor.”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his and told everyone to start.

Seated, you struggled to answer the questions, constantly distracted by him and the pesky remote tucked in his slacks. Squirming in your seat, your face warmed, attempting to swallow with a dry throat.

It felt so good, having every part of you stimulated. Your entire body was always on edge, goosebumps and heat flaring your body. The onlu thing you hated was that during these two hours of pure ecstasy, he didn’t let you cum once. You were only brought to the knife sharp edge and had pleasure taken away. You considered just fixing it yourself had it not been for your nerves and the other students there.

Finally the exam ended and everyone left to discuss their answers at the cafeteria but you stayed put in your chair, convinced that if you moved, there would be a big stain. When the last student left and Eris locked the doors, you stood up, grabbed your things and tried to leave the room. If he didn’t allow you to cum then you wouldn’t allow him to touch you.

Seated in his chair, he observed your every move until you reached the door. Just as you were about to leave, he pressed the highest setting, causing your knees to wobble.

“Tell me, dear. Why are you so angry at me?”

He approached, crouching beside you, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Okay, maybe he could touch you.

“I’m- wait, it’s too much, Er, please.”

Eris looked at you with mock sympathy and simply went on.

“Did you want to cum? Is that it, hm? My beautiful girl is angry because I didn’t let her cum in a classroom full of others? Are you truly that needy?”

His words mixed with the intensity of the vibrations had you seeing white. You came with a cry, head thrown back and hands grabbing his forearms in a steel grip.

“May I have some more?” you asked with a smile. In response, he mirrored your smile and gladly fulfilled your request.

—

After spending time with Eris in his office, he offered to drive you home, but you opted to walk to avoid being seen by friends at a nearby party.

You should have just let him fucking drive you home

The crisp autumn evening turned unexpectedly traumatic as you strolled home with your AirPods in. An eerie sensation of being followed grew, fueled by a black sedan trailing a few feet away. Heightened paranoia set in, prompting you to quicken your pace.

The car halted, and a tall, red-headed man emerged, his footsteps thudded against the dark sidewalk behind you. As he approached, tension heightened until an unsettling silence fell. Your fight-or-flight instincts peaked, and you turned to confront him, only to find no one there.

Annoyed and frightened, you turned around, only to encounter a wall of muscles but before you could scream, everything went black.

—

Feyre’s pov:

“The number you have dialed is not available right now-”

She tosses her phone onto the couch, wondering where you are. The plan was to get ready together before heading to the party she insisted on attending. She was informed if TA Rhysand's presence, and she couldn't resist checking it out.

She was starting to wonder where you were. You mentioned being ‘busy’with Eris after class, but this was dragging on. Maybe you just decided to bail, but it's odd since you're usually stuck to your phone, and she didn't get a text or anything.

Feyre got a bad feeling in her stomach and decided to pay Eris a visit. She knew it wasn't really appropriate to show up at his place, but that gut feeling wouldn't let go.

And if you were at his house, she’d simply murder you for ignoring her.

You had given her Eris' address a few weeks back, just in case she needed to get in touch with you urgently. Now, she really hoped this wasn't turning into an emergency.

She rolled up to Eris's place, this big gate in the way. Hit the intercom button, started talking.

“Hi professor, it’s me, Feyre Archeron in your AP lit class. Listen, I know this might be inappropriate or whatever but is Y/N in there? I just really need to know since she’s not answering her phone and I haven’t seen her since the exam. If she’s there it’s fine and I understand and I will get outta here but-”

Eris buzzes her in and bolts out to the courtyard before Feyre can even ask about his fancy estate.

Feyre's eyebrows furrow as only Eris appears.

“ Wait, where is she?” she questions.

Eris looks at her with panic, revealing that you left nearly an hour ago.

“Well, if she isn't here, then where the hell is she? Do you think something happened?” Feyre demands.

Eris's eyes harden, jaw clenching.

“Trust me, I'll find out,” he grits out before instructing Feyre to come inside.

🏷️ taglist: @danikamariewrites @daycourtofficial @teenageeggscissorslawyer @jeannineee @natashachelsea @candyjaypoppins @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @acourtofbatboydreams @nocasdatsgay @cyrygher @amara-moonlight @fell-in-luvs @hanitastic @culiehua @daughterofthemoons-stuff @itsphoenix0724 @vanserrasswife @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @hieragalbatorixdottir @rromani-witch @vellichor01 @mischiefmanagers @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @icey--stars @alysena2 @loneliestluvr @meshellexplosionmurder @whatthefuckshappeningrn @thelov3lybookworm @eminvelaris @v3lv3tf0x

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hannie-dul-set · 10 months

Text

CRASH & BURN.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, humor. w — swearing, one absolutely horrendous dad joke, the secondhand embarrassment is even worse this time i'm not sorry at all, the rest of the en-kids are also losers. 1.3k words.

note — listen, who am i to deny the public from their needs and wants? i have no idea how rizzless hoon became such a hit, but ask and you shall receive. i'm sure this won't be the last you'll see of this loser. PART ONE. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

also tagging those who were asking for a part two hope u all don't mind! — @gyulune @jngwnlvs @snowysab @miercerise @karinasswifee @cerealdreamwriter @dinonuguaegi @tyongff-ff

for the past five days, you have been routinely returning to the skatepark at the same time without fail. this has obviously attracted questions from your friends considering the first time you tried out a longboard, you crashed and scraped and bruised your chin within seconds, but you can’t exactly tell them the truth about your endeavor— that you’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of mr. kuromi bandaid with the rollerblades again, and being left disappointed every single time.

he hasn’t shown up. not even once.

it’s day five, and there’s still no sign of him nor his lollipop. it’s day five, and you’re just about to give up until you spot from your peripheral a familiar group of boys that scared the shit out of you the other day— except this time, they aren’t staring at you like maniacs, and they seem to be one person less.

“are you fucking stupid?” you overhear as you hesitantly approach their circle, cautious steps because they’re still as intimidating as you can remember. they all look so serious, two individuals glaring at each other while the rest simply watch, both unconcerned and amused. “oh yeah? you really think you can beat me? wanna duke it out right now, dickwad?”

cold sweat breaks out and you freeze in your tracks, expecting them to spiral into a fist fight.

“my dragonite will sweep your fucking team, loser.”

“your dragonbitch doesn’t stand a chance against my tyranitar!”

nevermind. you really shouldn’t be so quick to judge them again.

you regain the bounce in your step and race up before they could metaphorically kick each other's asses.

“hi!”

you flinch when the six heads suddenly snap towards you. your smile twitches, discomfort lasering into your skin from the half a dozen set of narrowed eyes leering at you so intently and so intensely. “who are you?” the one previously bragging about his dragonite asks.

“dumbass.” another one smacks the former on the backside of his skull. “it’s shoelaces.”

the nickname sets a few lightbulbs off, and a pair breaks away from their violent staring at you to give each other knowing glances. “oh, shit!” this time it’s mr. tyranitar who exclaims. “right. the dude hoon absolutely decimated himself in front of. poor guy. he’s still going through the five stages of grief.”

hoon must mean sunghoon. you want to open your mouth and present your business about the missing individual, but it’s not so easy to butt in when they’re busy conversing amongst themselves.

“what do they want?”

“how should i know? i’m not them?”

“no fucking shit. but what do you think they want?”

“maybe it’s about hoon?”

“no way. that guy’s done for.”

“hey, don’t be too harsh on him! he’s grieving!”

“what if it’s because we‘re being too loud—”

“what if they’re here to have a pokemon batt—”

“you do realize they can hear you, right?”

light-haired guy is right. you can very much hear them, and they’ve all finally quieted down, slowly turning their heads to you once more but with a dampened intensity this time. they’re waiting for you to speak. you can’t believe you thought they were scary. you can’t believe you were intimidated by a group of nerds.

“sorry for the intrusion,” you smile, pressing your palms together. “i noticed one of your friends hasn’t been coming around lately. is he okay?”

a cough. a nudge. a silent conversation between the six pairs of eyes. “he’s been sick these past few days,” dragonite owner finally says. “sickeningly unbearab— ow!”

your smile disappears. “oh no.” he’s sick? he already didn’t seem that strong when you met him the other day, collapsing into the ground and all.

“i think you can help him get better— ouch! jungwon, what the fuck?” one of them gets hit again. you’re sure it’s been the same guy hitting the rest of them since earlier.

“why are you asking about him?”

the nicest looking one squeezes out of their group while asking his earnest question, fishing out the answer from you with bright, curious eyes. “ah,” you sound out. “i just wanted to tell him that i also think his shoelaces are really cool.”

they stare at you, then stare at each other. and then someone spews out, “is that a new pick-up line, or some shit?” before getting hit again, and the light-haired guy comes forward to block the squabble happening behind him, and to tell you that they’ll be dragging their friend tomorrow at the same time (isn’t he supposed to be sick?) so you can compliment his shoelaces in person(?), and that they are looking forward to welcoming you to their family (whatever the fuck that means).

as promised, they do drag the sick man into the skatepark— literally dragging him because the guy who introduced himself yesterday as jake is pulling him forward by the sleeve while jungwon pushes him from behind as the wheels of his roller skates make sure that sunghoon keeps on moving. he looks like he’s ready to move on into the afterlife. your eyes light up when they drag him closer.

“c’mon, hyung! just a little bit more— a liiiiittle bit—

“i told you, i’m never coming back here again!“ you hear him groan, attempting to break away from his escort team. “never ever. never again. this is is where half of my dignity is buried. my pride. my shame. my—”

and then he freezes.

sunghoon gets frozen by an invisible force when your eyes meet, frozen but his cheeks are set ablaze. his friends did a great job in escorting him to you, encasing him and in consequence his view of his surroundings until you’re within an arm’s reach so he doesnt run away. the heat from his face thaws him back into movement, panicked and angry expressions sent to his friends and they all look pretty stupid trying to talk with just their eyebrows, but it’s cute nonetheless.

“hey!” you finally chipper in, causing sunghoon to freeze once more, creaking to meet your gaze.

“h—hello. hi.”

sunghoon’s greeting comes out as a choke. jake and jungwon send each other signals before hurling the poor boy at you.

it’s like he’s suddenly forgotten how to skate. he can’t control his muscles, sliding over the short path at a dangerous speed that mimics his racing heart and oh shit— oh shit, oh shit. how does he stop again? how does he make a turn? how does he not fucking crash into you like a meteor being sucked into the earth’s orbit?

“oh!”

like all of his (very limited) interactions with you, sunghoon crashes and burns. it’s inevitable. but this time, he crashes and burns into you. you’re both on the concrete and his hand feels like it got crushed between the hard ground and the back of your head, but that pain quickly subsides into a numbing buzz, pumping his arteries with nectar, burning his veins with gasoline, because holy crap—

“close.”

“you’re right, that was a close call,” you breathe out. “i could’ve cracked my skull open.”

“i— i mean, close, you’re— you’re too close.”

does he realize that you can’t exactly move underneath him? he probably doesn’t, not when you can practically see the smoke emitting from his head and the panicked swirl in his eyes and you can’t help but laugh. “ah, sorry.” that was a mistake. sunghoon’s face flushes warmer and like a hammer to his skull, the realization hits and he and slowly pries himself off of you.

“sorry—”

“it’s fine.” you sit up and brush the dust off your clothes, stretching out your legs as you nudge yourself closer to him on the ground. “your friends told me you’ve been sick. are you feeling better now?”

“huh?”

you’re not sure why he’s confused, but he looks very confused before turning his gaze to his friends. you find jay snapping out a thumbs up and sunoo’s stern face somehow reading don’t fucking blow it. he turns back to you with a lot more sweat on his neck than prior. “oh, yeah i was sick, i was so sick, ahaha—” he stammers. “a—anyway, what’s up?”

“i just wanted to see you again. it’s not everyday that i get a compliment on my shoelaces, you know?” you smile. “what about today? aren’t they prettier than the last ones?”

you wiggle your shoes to show off, laced in a complicated pattern that you’ve been practicing for the past five days, and you expect to receive another compliment for it, but sunghoon is oddly quiet.

he’s quiet. you’re sure you chose a cool pair of shoes this morning. you’re about to be disappointed, until you notice that he’s actually thinking. he’s thinking very hard he’s thinking of something, and that something comes out of his mouth in the form of a badly timed pun.

“...what about...toe-day...”

park sunghoon only knows how to crash and burn. all his friends are a witness to that. they’re a witness to this events that transpired this afternoon, but what they didn’t expect is for you to have an affinity for disasters. you’re laughing at his dumb joke. you’re actually laughing. they’ve been shitting on sunghoon for being hopeless, but maybe there’s something wrong with you, too.

CRASH & BURN.

#i like him a normal amount #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff #enhypen scenarios #enha secnarios #park sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon scenarios

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koisuko · 7 months

Note

can i get headcanons of petnames the earthrealm gang and others would give their S/O?

Note: these are all predictions based on my observations of their behaviors, some also inspired by others, let me know if you feel they are inaccurate!

tw: none, fluff, fem leaning pet names, this is a long one *sweats*

ft. Liu Kang, Bi-han, Kuai Liang, Raiden, Tomas, Kenshi, Johnny, Kung Lao

Bi-Han

Dove, wife, love, my heart, my snowflake, little warrior, my queen, little mouse, hun, gem, beloved, blossom

this man is not one for open acts of affection Infront of others, these would be in private most likely. But when he's around you, behind closed doors, he's a real softy. He also gives me possessive vibes, so this inspired some. (Due to his closed off demeanor, this was by far the hardest to decipher.)

Kuai Liang

my heart, my love, little flame, baby, beauty, my queen, little dragon, my one, darling, firefly/dragonfly

Like his brother, he would keep open acts of affection to a minimum. Not because he's uncomfortable showing it, he would just rather keep those special moments between the two of you. Although, he is more than willing to show how much he loves you Infront of others.

Tomas Vrbada

my love, baby, koloušek (little deer), sweetheart, angel, my queen, honey, beautiful

Tomas would most likely be more open than his brothers, showing affection whenever he's in your presence. He definitely gives me the vibe that he would be very soft, gentle, and shy when using these with you however.

Johnny Cage

dream girl, honey, hot stuff, doll face, kitty/kitten, sexy, beautiful, smoke show, my girl, baby/baby girl/babe, the mrs. , sweetheart, princess, wonder woman, good lookin', my superstar, eye candy

Johnny is by far the most open, PDA isn't even in his dictionary. If you're their, he's calling you all of the above with no shame. He hopes people are looking when he kisses you in public and calls you princess. He wants everyone around to know you're his and his only. (Johnny is an open book so he was the easiest to come up with)

Liu Kang

my treasure, my queen, my love, my heart, jewel, goddess, my everything, my one, my light, beloved, lovely, gem

Liu Kang is a busy man, working as earthrealm's protector and god of fire and all. When he gets the chance to, however, he's holding you close and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He is a very humble man, and sees his s/o as someone to worship, someone he holds dearly to his heart and would show this any chance he gets. Pet names, holding hands, and gentle hugs in public are the farthest he goes, he is respectful and would rather keep his private life well..private.

Raiden

my love, beautiful, darling, my queen, my spark, sunshine, angel, precious, lovely, little butterfly, my one

Raiden would be much like Liu Kang and Tomas, showing only soft affection with a shy smile in public and keeping his full love for you hidden from prying eyes. Like Liu Kang, he is very respectful and would also worship his lover. If his love wanted his to show more affection in public? Consider it done, although expect a deep red to engulf his face in a rush of embarrassment if anyone (cough cough johnny) teases him on the matter.

Kenshi Takahashi

baby, love, honey, sweetheart, angel, princess, beautiful/gorgeous, wife, cutie, my rose, pretty, my girl

Kenshi is possessive, within limits, not overly so but you are his and his only. He will show his affection in public through hand holding, forehead kisses, long hugs, and lots of small sweet kisses on your lips and face. He will most likely point out all of his favorite features about you, one kiss at a time. He would still prefer to keep it private, but if someone oversteps, he's pulling you close and calling you his.

Kung Lao

love, baby, honey, sweetheart, doll, beautiful, honey/hun, candy, blossom, baby cakes, hot stuff, dumpling, cutie, cupcake

Kung Lao is a foodie, expect a lot of nicknames related to food. His cocky behavior shows in the nicknames he gives, giving you sarcastic and joking nicknames in public, causing a bit of banter between you two. In private he's letting you know you're his, in the softest way possible. He's very respectful of women in particular, he would never call you names to hurt your feelings, especially you being his special someone.

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 4 months

Text

virgin!Megumi

A/N: Who has time to fuck when they're too busy kickin ass? Also.. Kinda went overboard on this one. Was trying to keep it pg-13, maybe get to a lil nc-17 but ended with straight porn! 🤣🤣

virgin!Megumi isn't really sure how this happened.. He's not blind to the opposite sex. Knows what women think of him, how they stare when he walks by; easily notices his female teammates eye-fucking him as they spar. So why the fuck hasn't he gotten his dick wet yet? Well.. Unfortunately for them, he's more interested in how you see him. "Lookin good, Gumi. Such a fuckin tease, know that? When you gone let me hit?" You whisper in his ear, giggling and smackin his ass when you walk by during his match. 'What. The. Entire. Fuck.' He thinks, gaze fixed on your cute lil wink and sway of your curvy hips. Your beautiful body is unmatched to him, makes him lose focus as he watches you walk away. Can't really be blamed for the way he stares, cheeks warm from your public teasing. It's not his fault he ends up face down in the ground while Yuji does a spit-take, clutching his sides laughing at how Megumi groans and coughs out a mouth full of dirt. "Dude! Never turn your back on your opponent." "No shit, Itadori!" He's half hard and embarrassed as shit right now thanks to you.

virgin!Megumi knows that your lil show of dominance was actually pretty tame- considering your usual antics. He's 100% sure you know about his little predicament and use it to your advantage any chance you get. "Oh what the fuck!" Megumi's shout pulls you downstairs to see what the hells goin on. He looks so cute: got your flower apron on, kitchen towel on his shoulder as he struggles opening a can with damp fingers. "Awww, my poor baby havin some trouble?" You chuckle at him, taking the jar poppin it open with ease, and set it on the counter. "No, it's cause- well obviously I could've done that myself! My hands.. It's just cause my fingers are wet." He sputters but you don't bother payin attention. You're slinkin up to his fine ass, nosing into his pale throat, peckin slow sweet kisses. "Mmm, Gumi. Taste so good. Wonder where else you taste good.." Oh, how he's so willing to let you find out. Your body presses into his side, perky brown titties pushing against his arm, adoring how he immediately comes undone for you. His head tilts as he whines your name, hips jerking as you lick at his skin. "So needy already. Poor thing. Only takes a kiss to your pretty throat.. Now you're ready to buss a big nut for me, huh baby?" He's nodding before you can get the question out. What a goddamn sight.. Megumi holding tight at your waist, dick tenting deliciously as he humps into the air. Fuck, he'd kill every curse on earth just to feel your dainty fingers wrap around him. Why does it always feel so dam amazing when you've barely touched him? "Know what would feel soooo good, princess? If you cum for me, right here- right now." More pretty moans before he gives you an unintelligible "N-not a princess." You smirk, hand creepin up to yank his head back by a fist full of his dark hair and grace him with one last harsh nip. He sounds so pretty when he gives you a loud whiny "Fuck!" Your too fuckin estatic to witness Megumi's eager sounds, pretty face pinched up as shivers run throughout his perfect athletic body. All of his reactions only for you.. So you palm down his thick clothed cock once as a reward. His whimpers are so fuckin pathetic, that paired with the cum stain quickly spreading across the fat bulge in his pants. "Seriously, Megumi?" you laugh heartily, slapping his toned ass once and heading back upstairs. Your boyfriend gazes at your exit with glazed eyes before thumping his head back into the cupboard to stare at the ceiling. "Fuckin woman's gonna be the death of me." He mutters under his breath as shame creeps in once again.

virgin!Megumi loves when you give him lessons on how to please you. As much as he's dying to cram his dick into you, he thinks learning how to make you feel good is so much more important. So Megumi sits on his knees, naked from the waist down on the floor by the foot of the bed; cock harder than it's ever been as he gives himself quick sloppy strokes. He's absolutely engrossed with your fingers playing between your thick cocoa thighs. Bright white teeth clench together at the sight, trapping his dark blue t-shirt in-between. "Y/n, come closer. Please! Wanna see you up close." Words muffled but hopin you understand. You're so preoccupied with the pleasure, eyes closed as you scoot to the edge of the bed to give him a better view of your nude body. You pick up the pace of the 2 fingers slippin in and out of your tight gushy hole. The sounds of your lil puss fill the room, adding to the slaps of his handjob and both of your heavy pants. "Fuuuuck, love when you watch me play with my pussy. Mmm, yeeesss- so good! You like it t-too, right Gumi?" The breathless way you say his name has him agreeing before he can process what your asking. It's the fuckin truth anyway. "So damn perfect, y/n. I swear it. Never seen anyone more beautiful." He vows, leaning in close as you bring your other hand down to rub your clit in quick messy circles. "Ahhh! My Go- getting so close baby. Turnin me on so much. Kiss me! Kiss me Gumi, pleeeeease." Megumi's never heard you sound so submissive, so utterly feminine as you get closer to your high. "Okay, honey, okay.." He springs to his feet, snatchin his shirt over his head before caging your sweaty brown body with his. Feels fucking incredible when his body pins yours to the bed, hard dick pokin at your slit. Removing your hands to clutch at his back as the feeling of his dry humpin amps you up. "Fuck, Gumiiii! Dont wanna rush you, jus- ohmyGod! Cant wait anymore, baby. Just the tip, yeah? Please Gumi, just lemme have the tip!" Those rosy lips melt into yours passionately at your earlier request as well as to silence your filthy mouth before you make him nut, but you can barely keep up. Orgasm hittin so viciously, you're doing more moaning than kissing into Megumi's mouth. And boy does he fucking loves it, inhaling each one as he continues to press his mouth over yours. His body slides repeatedly against your own, itchin to give you his cock. The rough pressure on your clit keeps you mindless as your please alternate between "Please, Gumi, please.." and "dick, just the tip.." 'Fuck it.' He thinks, cock slippin clumsily against your hole before he angles just right and forces the head of his dick between your walls. You're insides suffocate him, hug him lovingly as he immediately gives you 3 jerky thrusts that have you wailing. "Thank you baby. Ah, ah, ah! Th-thank you, so fuckin much!" The way you sound, the wet warmth on his cock.. It's all just so damn nerve-wracking, so mind-blowing and he cant take it anymore. A thunderous groan permeates the room before Megumi goes silent, stiff as a board ontop you when he pulls out to pour his nut out all over your pussy lips. Rubbing your hands down your boyfriend's flushed back soothingly as you feel his hot cum cover your cunt, raining drips down your ass crack. Fuck, what a mess. "Good boy, Megumi. Such a good boy for me." You tell him as he gasps into the side of you neck.

#black reader #black fanfiction #all readers #smut #dirty talk #dom reader #teasing #virgin humiliation #jjk smut #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi x black reader #megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #black girl reader #black writer #just the tip

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midnight-black2 · 5 days

Note

Ahh this is my first time requesting anything but I need prompt 5 for Farleigh 🙈

Imagine him being cocky for getting a higher score than reader and reader basically putting him in his place. 🫣🫣 (also i’m absolutely obsessed with your writing!!)

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘

pairing : farleigh start x reader

synopsis : pretty much what the req says

disclaimers : sub!farleigh, dom!reader, public sexual intercourse (idk what this is called), handjob (m!recieving), slightly mean reader, degradation, ruined orgasm, probably more lol

note : thanks for the compliment ! hope you enjoy this '

it was by five points, five fucking points, and all farleigh did was torture you about it.

typically, you scored higher than him, mostly because you just straight up put in more effort. he couldn't care less about studying, he was just a naturally good tester. for this reason, he normally knew his place. but the one time he studied and you didn't, the one goddamn time. he wouldn't let you live it out, all he would ever do was talk about it, teasing you and making fun of you.

"wow Y/N, i think you're falling off," he stated, with a sarcastic, disapproving look. he was leaning over, hovering over your shoulder to get a proper look at your score. you were flabbergasted, you actually got a 95%. farleigh had gotten an 100%. if was quite literally embarrassing. that was when it first happened, but he didn't leave it there, oh no.

"ah-ah, don't you think i should skip ahead of you?" farleigh asked, his annoying voice startling you from your thoughts.

"what?"

"well i got a higher score, those have always been our rules." the thing you hated most was that he was right. it was also stupid because he made the damn rule, and you didn't care about being ahead in the lunch line one way or another. you figured the only reason he had done it was to make victory that much sweeter when he actually did score higher than you. so you stayed silent, letting him sit ahead of you.

and another incident...

"so if anyone here needs tutoring, don't hesitate to ask. our programs are specifically designed to connect students while effectively getting them to learn," mrs. abram spoke, as she handed out tutoring flyers.

farleigh shot you a glance, before mumbling your name, and covering it up with a fake cough. you groaned, with a sigh before frustratedly stuffing the flyer in your bag. he was being insufferable, and there was only so much you could take.

the final (notable) time he teased you, you two were partnered on a history project, the exact class he had excelled on the exam in. of course, just your fucking luck.

as he sat down, he had this complacent smirk on his face that you wanted to slap right off. he set the assignment papers down on the desk, and turned over to face you.

"well, i'm glad we got partnered, yeah? you probably need my help," he said, mockingly.

"jesus christ farleigh it was five fucking points! get over yourself!" there it was, you snapped. it was only a matter of time, though it just so happened to be in the middle of class. farleigh's smirk only grew, as if this was what he had wanted the entire time. the teacher had scolded you for cursing, and almost dismissed you from class. fortunately, you managed to stay, and the whole time you felt the urgent need to snap farleigh in half.

finally, after what felt like days, the class ended. however, instead of heading to the next class, you followed farleigh down the hall, before pushing him inside of some random storage closet. he was about to ask you what you were doing, he was about to leave...until you said something.

"what the fuck, farleigh," you uttered, coldly. he faltered, something in the way you sounded made him feel some sort of way. it was dark, and farleigh couldn't make out much, but if he had to guess, your expression would have been that of a deadpan, glaring into his soul.

"i don't get why you're so mad. i scored higher, and that's final."

"i'm mad because you don't know your fucking place." you spat back, inching closer to him.

"yeah? and what's my place, hm?" he questioned. his voice had an edge to it, but more than that he was genuinely curious.

"beneath me," you answered, no hesitation whatsoever. did you say it because that's what you actually thought? no. were you angry? yes. did you think farleigh would get off to it? also yes--and, he did. he did so much that he was developing a hard-on.

"you sure about that?" he asked, voice wavering.

"your dick is," you replied, gripping his cock in his pants. his knees buckled, and he let out the smallest whimper, that was nearly inaudible. "you're so pathetic, farleigh."

"yeah? well you're still gonna give me a handjob. so pathetic or not at least-" he cut himself off with a moan as you squeezed roughly once again.

"just shut the fuck up for once," you instructed, as you unzipped his fly. you, not-so-gently, took his cock from his boxers. his tip was an angry flushed red, and leaking pre. you chuckled at the sight, and he turned to face away, embarrassed.

you thumbed at his tip, and he whined softly. your fingers formed a circle shape, before sliding up and down at mid-pace. if you didn't want to miss too much of your next class, you'd have to make this quick.

"f-fuck, Y/N," he moaned, bucking his hips up slightly. you placed a hand on his hips to keep them pinned. you sped up your pace just a bit.

"is this what you've been wanting, farleigh? i really don't know how you got an 100% because all you seem to do is think with this stupid cock of yours," you said, as it was your turn to smirk this time. his head tipped back with a strained moan.

"shit, oh my god," he cursed, feeling himself grow close to an orgasm already.

"guess i should've done this a lot sooner, hm? really would've shut you up." your hand became brutal, but god did he like it.

"please," he said, not even sure what he was begging for. it was too much for him.

"please? are you serious? you take what i give you, farleigh." he whined at that, cursing under his breath.

"fuck Y/N, i can't-i...i think im gonna cum," he stammered, as his legs felt light, like they would give out any second. and just like that, you stopped. he whined, as you shoved his cock back in his underwear, and zipped back up his pants. you had left him with a raging boner, and he felt he could cry at that. as you exited the closet, he couldn't help but fear what he had gotten himself into.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

#archie madekwe #dom reader #dom!reader #farleigh start #archie mademay #saltburn #smut #farleigh x you #farleigh x reader #farleigh start x you #farleigh start x reader #sub!farleigh

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s74rf1sh · 5 months

Text

ROTTMNT CUDDLE HEADCANONS

Woah it’been a while since my first post…

ANYWAY, I’m in a very sleepy mood so here’s cuddle headcanons for the turtles

~LEO~

-This guy is so goofy

-Constantly grabbing at your ass or tights to massage them while teasing you about it

-He loves to lay on you or having you lay on him

-Lots of churring and snuggling (if you have a prominent chest it’s not yours anymore, it’s his)

-Muffled rambling about literally any topic

-Praises your body constantly (not in a sexual way, this guy is just head over heels about you and wants to make sure you know it)

-“I have no idea why you worry so much, you’re so damn beautiful”

-PLEASE take his mask off and gently caress his face markings, this guy will MELT

-If you’re not laying down he’s definetly resting on your lap ᵃᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ⁱᵗˢ ᵒᵇᵛⁱᵘᵒˢ ⁱ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵘʸ

-He’ll play with your hair, even braid it if it’s long enough

-Even massage your face if he’s in the mood

-Will nibble on your neck playfully AND tease you about your reaction

-Will gently squeeze your hips and/or shoulders

-I guess the preferred location is his room, but the couch is comfy too

-If you’re having a movie night all together he won’t be shy and lay on your lap (ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵃʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ)

-Of course he will refrain from squeezing your ass or doing TOO intimate things…

-But yeah, he will cuddle with you in public if your comfortable with it

~RAPH~

-He’s baby

-Tried to be the small spoon but miserably failed

-(you got slight injuries by his shell and he never forgive himself about it)

-He likes to squeeze you to his plastron and feel your heat

-He often wraps you two in a big blanket, morphing in a big burrito

-He does chur, but it’s really really low and hardly hearable

-Snacks and hot drinks while you cuddle>>>

-If someone were ever to walk in on you two he’d be so fucking embarassed (probably hiding his face in your body)

-He doesn’t mind if you take his bandana off or not, but if you wear it yourself? Oh he’s jumping on you.

-Asks April for advice💀👍 (especially the first times you ever cuddled together)

-Overthinks a little too much about your well-being (I feel ya buddy) what if you’re uncomfortable in that position? What if you’re not hot enough? Is his smell fine? Are you bothered by his churrs?

-Please comfort this poor guy

-Is teased by his brothers (*COUGH* Leo *COUGH*) about him being so vulnerable when you’re around

-As you probably already guessed he’s kind of embarrassed around his family, but holding hands sround others is so special to him

-It makes him feel as if he’s telling the world (his family) that you’re his

~MIKEY~

-Ok let’s be real: he’s VERY touchy

-He’s basically cuddling with you 24/7

-Takes every opportunity to kiss or hug or snuggle you throughout the day

-When you two are alone he just doesn’t let go of you LIKE

-“Mike l need to use the bathroom” “OK :D” “…Le-Let me go” “wwWHY..?” “I NEED TO PEE” “I CAN COME WITH YOU”

-You’ll eventually get him to let you go for a few minutes

-He LOVES when you even slightly match his energy and also crave affection (even if you won’t admit it ;))

-Doesn’t really care where you are or what position you’re in as long as you’re both comfortable

-But if he had to choose a position he would probably like facing and spooning

-Speaking of facing—PREPARE TO BE PEPPERED IN KISSES

-Churrs happily and loudly, not giving two fucks about who hears him🫡

-Squeezes your cheeks (the puffier they are the more full this lil guy’s heart gets)

-If you’ll let him, he’ll draw small doodles on your hands or arms

-Cuddles in public couldn’t be less of a problem for him

-Just say if you’re ok with it or not and he will obey (except for a few stolen kisses in case you say no)

~DONNIE~

-Will NEVER admit how much he actually enjoys your cuddles

-Will have you sit on his lap as he works, chest to chest

-…or you laying on his chest and viceversa

-The very first times he kept everything on- battleshell included

-But after a while he allowed you to take off his mask

-The shell thing is a bit more delicate (Yk?Cause he’s a softshell turtle? God I want to hang myse-) and might take more time

-But if you play your cards right he’s throwing it out the window in a few months

-When he’s not rambling he’ll just lay there and melt in your touch

-Whether you’re running your hands through his bare shell or caressing his face and muscles he’ll just let you love him

-He finded it hard to let you cuddle him, let alone him cuddling you…

-A lot of patience is needed but will be rewarded

-Him inviting you to lay on him, rest your face on his shoulder, sometimes he will even kiss you first

-Ew I’m getting diabetes MOVING ON

-Cuddling in public is usually a big No-no, but there’s situations where you’ll get a text from him where he just—

-“Cuddles in bed later?”

-You smile at him and he acts his blush off…

#rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise mikey #rise leo #rise raph #leonardo #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #tooth rotting fluff #headcanon #tmnt #tmnt x reader

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loveshotzz · 1 year

Note

I have a pretty good one awhile ago but I don't ever see myself writing it.

Reader and Eddie are good friends, Argyle drops by his trailer to buy, and he ends up flirting with the reader. Later reader and Eddie go to a party, Argyle is there, and in sure you know where it goes from there

Argyle x fem!reader

You can call me names if you call me up

Warnings:18+ Weed dealing, weed smoking, mentions of drinking, slight mentions of hellcheer? (eddie has a crush and we make fun of him for it) kissing, semi public fingering (f! receiving)

Word count: 5.8k

beta’d by @superblysubpar

Authors note: This is my first ever Argyle fic! Thank you @sleepy-princ3ss for letting me write this! I had a lot of fun this one but it’s scary to write a new character so let me know what you think! I also had a good time writing Eddie as our best friend who doesn’t want to fuck us. Wild right? Still, there’s lots of Eddie in here too 💕

The summer heat always feels extra sticky inside Eddie’s trailer this time of year, the stale breeze that floats through his cracked window does nothing to cool you down. Thumbing through the worn covers of the records Eddie keeps in his room you hum along to the last few chords of Ride The Lightning. When the covers of Back In Black and Blizzard of Oz stick together, you grimace as you pull them apart. A crumpled cut of a babe from a Heavy Metal Magazine is the ‘glue’ that was holding them together.

“Eww Eddie! What the fuck?” god, your best friend was gross.

Clumsy loud footsteps bring him to the entrance of his room, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, his face flushes an even deeper shade of red when his eyes zero in on what you’re glaring at.

“I - uh,” coughing nervously, he scratches the back of his neck, the chain wrapped around his wrist sliding down his arm, “I don’t - I don’t know how that got there.”

Scoffing with a roll of your eyes you examine it a little more closely, careful not to touch it. The blond hair and the big blue eyes were a dead give away why this had to have been his favorite.

“She kinda looks like Chrissy don’t you think? Like if she got a metal makeover or whatever you’d call this,” snorting when his face turns into a tomato, his own glare takes over his features when he narrows his eyes at you.

“Why are you even snooping through my records, this one just started?” blinking quickly with embarrassment he looks like he’s ready to explode and you’ve never been more pleased with yourself.

Opening your mouth ready to bite back with something that you were sure was going to send him over the edge, the sound of three quick knocks followed by a single fourth one cuts you off before you can even start.

“Who’s that?” confused at his lack of communication with anyone crashing your hang out, he snaps - gesturing for you to step away from his records before he answers you.

He’s halfway out his bedroom door with you quick on his heels when he finally does.

“Jonathan and his friend from Cali are here to pick up real quick,” groaning at the sound of Jonathan’s name, Eddie laughs loudly before signaling for you to shut up with a finger to his lips.

It wasn’t that you hated Jonathan, he was just always such a downer when he’d join in on your smoke sessions.

Opening the door when you cross your arms with a nod signaling you’ll behave, he turns his charismatic Munson charm up to a ten with a wide grin.

“Byers,” giving him a slight bow, he extends his tattooed arm wide inviting them in, “Byer’s friend.”

You see Jonathan first, who gives you an awkward small wave and a tight lipped grin, lifting three fingers you give him the same energy.

“Oh hey man, the name’s Argyle excited to see what kinda weed you got out here,” Jonathan’s cute friend that follows him in was not what you expected as he clasps his hands together rubbing his palms excitedly stepping through the threshold.

Chestnut hair longer than Eddie’s sways as he walks in, the top of it hidden by a flipped bill green cap. Its smooth texture makes your hand twitch, you’re almost positive it’d feel like silk against your fingertips. A big dopey smile graces his full pink tinged lips as his already bloodshot brown eyes meet yours when he finally turns to see you in the hallway.

All the loud colors and clashing designs on his clothes makes the corners of your mouth tug up. Curiosity piqued, you throw him a more flirtatious wave, fluttering your lashes for good measure.

Eddie rolls his eyes from behind him catching onto your antics, but Argyle looks like he’s been turned to stone, frozen in place as he takes in your barely covered frame. Leaning a shoulder against the wall you watch his eyes trail up the uncovered expanse of your legs till he hits the frayed ends of your jean shorts, your spaghetti strap tank top gives him the perfect view of the curve of your breasts barely hidden beneath the thin fabric. Sweat beading off your heat kissed skin.

Clearing his throat he shakes his head when he feels his jaw go slack, glancing worriedly at Eddie who’s already too busy rummaging around the living room looking for his trusty metal lunch box.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just my partner in crime,” waving a dismissive ringed hand in your direction as he digs behind the couch Jonathan just got settled on, Argyle’s face falls slightly at the nickname.

That still didn’t stop him from watching you push yourself off the wall and walk to the kitchen island, sitting yourself on the cleared spot on top. Legs moving to the beat of the music still bleeding out from the speakers in Eddie’s room, you knew he was completely transfixed on you as he rocked back on his heels.

“Got it boys!” cheering himself on loudly, it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“Only you would lose your lunch box full of drugs Munson,” winking at Argyle after you roast your best friend, his smile turns shy when he looks away.

“Bold of you to insult me when you smoke for free,” squinting with threatening eyes, he flips the lid open, the metal connecting with the wood of the coffee table in a loud clunk.

Sticking your tongue out at him he scoffs before turning his attention towards Jonathan pulling out two different bags of the new strains Rick had just supplied him with.

Argyle watches you both with confused eyes, unsure what to think of your banter as he feels the shift in your stare. The heat of it makes all the blood rush to his cheeks when he dares to meet it. Waving him over, you remind him to actually finish walking in. Eyes going wide at the realization, he looks down as he walks over to stand in the space right next to you.

Leaning his back against the formica countertop, your knee brushes the side of his arm with every small kick of your dancing feet. He smells like the kind of weed that makes you feel bad for whatever Eddie’s about to sell them and a hint of an earthy toned cologne. Dark eyes lifting up to yours, his breath catches in his throat when you meet his gaze instantly.

“Sooo, how’s it going?” purposely nudging him this time, you get a smile to finally break across his nervous face.

“It’s uhh- it’s good, Jonathan’s mom is super nice. Her cooking is shmackin,” giggling a little, he told himself it was because of the lingering effects of the weed they smoked on the way here, not because of the way you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you listened.

“Oh yeah, dinner at Joyce’s is always a hit. She really is the sweetest,” eyes crinkling in the corners when you grin at him, he was even cuter this close.

“How long are you visiting?” resting your chin on your shoulder when you look up at him, the height difference is still noticeable despite your advantage. His cheeks turn bubble gum pink at your flirty questioning.

“Just for a few weeks, I don’t want to put them out too much you know? She’s got a full house over there with everyone back,” you catch a hint of sadness in his mellow voice. He missed his best friend, that was more than evident. The thought of only seeing Eddie a few weeks out of the year sounded miserable.

“So you and Jonathan huh? How’d that even happen?” The difference in their personalities was astounding, but even you had to admit that Byers came back from California a little more relaxed. Meeting Argyle you’re starting to figure out why.

“Ahh yeah, dudes was like having a total meltdown at school one day about some stuff with Nancy, I felt bad you know, he looked like someone kicked his dog.” Glancing over at his friend he laughs at the memory.

“So I just showed him the ways of Purple Palm Tree delight and the rest was history.” Smirking proudly when he looks at you, his eyes briefly drift towards your lips curled up into their own grin.

“Finally! Someone got Byers to chill out!” Your praise is loud enough to get a side eye from Jonathan and a laugh from his cute friend.

“It’s super nice of you to come all this way to visit Argyle, I hope you make the most of your time here,” sweetness drips from your words making his eyes grow as big as saucers when he catches the slight invitation hidden inside them.

Jonathan finally speaks loud enough for the whole room to hear, snapping your attention away from the pretty stoner boy.

“Are you guys going to the party at Rick’s tonight?” shoving the bag of weed he just bought in his back pocket, his beady eyes dart between you and Eddie.

Argyle’s still in his own world and Eddie’s got a front row seat to his completely smitten gaze dead set on your face. Despite being annoyed with you all afternoon, you’d always been a good wingman when he needed it. Lips pulling up in a mischievous smirk he wiggles his eyebrows at you before answering.

“We are!”flipping the lid to his lunch box shut with obnoxious force, you’re truly shocked he hasn’t broken it yet with his need for dramatic flair.

The sound of metal clanking loudly snaps Argyle out of whatever lovesick daze you already had him in from just from batting your lashes and showing a little interest. His eyes connect with Eddie's, a sheepish look taking over his face from being caught openly gawking.

“We are? what part-“ Eddie glares at you before cutting you off.

“The party I was literally just telling you about before they got here,” he looks pointedly at the boy shuffling his feet next to you.

Argyle’s eyes stay fixated on the dirty carpeted floor doing his best not to stare, completely oblivious to the way Eddie was trying to help him out, not scold him.

Glancing over at the cowering boy, it’s like a light bulb flashes on top of your head when you realize Eddie was trying to help you get laid.

“Ohhh that party! Sorry, stoner memory you know?” bumping your shoulder with his, your lips twist up in a grin when the chocolate of his eyes meet yours, “Totally going”

The look on Argyle’s face is hard to read as a mixture of excitement and fear cross over his features at the same time. Shifting uneasily, he keeps looking at Eddie from the corner of his eye but he can’t stop the smile that slowly spreads across his soft lips, big pearly whites flashing at you.

“C-cool, I’ll totally see you there,” coughing as he scratches the back of his neck before quickly turning his attention to Eddie, “And uhh- you too man, I’ll uh see you there too!” the last part comes out loud enough to be a yell, his nerves making his voice shake.

“Uhhh, yeah man. For sure,” Eddie’s tone is laced with confusion, eyebrows raised in question as he looks at Argyle like he’s growing a second head.

Jonathan looks at his friend with wide eyes, his cheeks turning rosy from embarrassment from his outburst. Shaking his head, he stands up with a pat on his thighs - giving the universal gesture for ‘it’s time to go’

“Alright, well this got awkward. I think we’re gonna head out, we’ll see you guys tonight,” beckoning his friend to follow him towards the front door, he steals one last look at you before almost tripping over his own feet following Jonathan, flashing you a lopsided grin.

Shutting the door behind them Eddie turns to you with a smirk that you want to smack off his face.

“Look if that’s what you’re into -“ you throw a stray Readers Digest at Eddie before he has a chance to finish teasing you.

“Oh? Would you like him more in a pleated skirt waving some Pom Pom’s for Jason and his goons?” jumping off the counter you go for the jugular, your smirk growing when you get the same hard glare from earlier in his room.

“Listen, Caspian likes who he likes. I’m just the guy behind the wheel,” hands raised in mock defense, you snort rolling your eyes walking away with crossed arms.

“Eddie, your dick isn’t the Prince of fucking Narnia,” his boisterous laugh booms over the music and your glad he can’t see the way your lips twitch up at his antics, butterflies making their way inside your stomach at the thought of seeing Argyle’s goofy smile again again.

——

You’ve always hated parties, especially Reefer Rick parties. Messy and way too loud, it wasn’t just the usual crowd at Harrington's, dodging leering stares around every corner, you cling to Eddie’s arm as a deterrent.

“I don’t know what you were thinking wearing that skirt to Rick’s,” laughing at the permanent look of disgust that was stuck on your face as the two of you weave through the crowd, you turn your head up to stick your tongue out.

“You’re gonna give that poor kid a heart attack,” Eddie shakes his head when he sees the Cheshire smile that takes over your face as you approach the makeshift drink station, “Death by bone - Byers!”

Eddie’s outburst makes you jump when your eyes meet Argyle’s from over the keg on the dining room table, the stoned grin on his face faltering when he sees your arm wrapped tightly around Eddie’s. Big brown eyes only grow bigger when he gets a glimpse of the expanse of your legs and another thin tank top covering your chest like earlier, leaving little for his imagination.

The rosy color comes back to his cheeks when you let go of Eddie as you approach with a smile that seemed to be reserved just for him pretty on your glossed lips.

“Hey Argyle,” breathy and smitten, your own cheeks heat up when the corner of his mouth turns up, lopsided just how you like.

“Hey - wow, you look - wow - yeah you look gorgeful,” stumbling over his words, Jonathan looks exasperated with his best friend already, “I mean gorgeous, err — um beautiful.”

Jonathan raises his eyebrows in a greeting at you before taking a sip from his red solo cup, doing his best to ignore the stuttering mess next to him as he greets Eddie with their dude shake.

Argyle catches Eddie’s passive stare and it only seems to make him more nervous.

“Hey man, you look, you look uhh great too!” stammering a little less, his voice raises a few octaves borderline yelling just like in the living room earlier.

“Careful Argyle, keep smooth talking me like this and I’m gonna think you want me and not my friend here,” Eddie winks with a dimpled grin spread wide across his face before he scopes out the scene of the party. Zeroing in on a home base on the couch in the living room that sat miraculously unoccupied.

“Think I’m gonna post up, you know what they say ‘When in Rome’,” he gestures with his head to the spot to Jonathan, “Wanna join? I got a joint with our name on it.”

“Isn’t Rick gonna get pissed at you for selling at his house?” finally tearing your eyes away from Argyle who’s openly gaping at Eddie, you look up at your best friend.

“Pffft, please. It’s not like he’s not going to see the fruits of my labor, it’s fine, trust me. He’s probably already plastered and passed out on his waterbed anyway,” shrugging off your concern he looks at Jonathan expectantly.

“You good with that buddy?” clapping a hand on his friend's back, Argyle’s brown eyes dart back and forth between you and Eddie, repeating the words “my friend” like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Yeah, he’ll protect me from all the creeps won’t you,” grabbing his hand, the heat of his palm is an instant comfort against yours. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look up at him from under your lashes. His cheeks turn the color of cherry blossoms when he finally meets your stare, squeezing your hand gently, he looks back at the two boys finding his nerve.

“Yeah I’ll protect this pretty little princess with my life man,” saluting your best friend, Eddie raises his eyebrows seemingly unimpressed before turning back to Jonathan.

“Ready?” ignoring Argyle’s pledge you snort at Eddie’s casual bitchiness.

“Yeah, let's go. Look, be cool man, don’t take anything anyone here offers you, got it? I’m not taking care of you again like that time you ate the mushrooms you found in the woods,” Jonathan looks a lot like the guy you’d always known talking to his friend like he would his little brother with a finger pointed in Argyle’s face.

“There'll be no mushroom consumption on my watch, Byers,” mocking Argyle’s salute, your antics earn an eye roll from Eddie knowing damn well if the offer was given to both of you, you’d fold.

“Alright! You kiddos, have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Eddie grabs Jonathan by the shoulders aggressive enough to have his beer slosh over the lid and you were almost positive that annoyed scowl would be stuck on his face all night.

Watching them till they both got lost in the crowd of bodies, you and Argyle finally dare to face each other. The air between you thickening now that you were alone, and he was still very much holding your hand.

“Do-“

“How-“

It was like a cheap rom com the way you both went to talk at the same time, cheeks heating up as you both look at the ground, a new shyness taking over. Squeezing his hand you encourage him.

“You first,” soft and sweet, you swear you his pupils dilate from the way you look at him.

Argyle gets the same expression on his face Eddie does when he’s forced to talk to Chrissy when she comes to buy weed for her friends. He was silently hyping himself up. Straightening his shoulders he clears his throat before the smile that made your stomach do flips graces his kissable lips.

“Can I get the pretty lady a beveregino?”

A stumbling drunk someone knocks into you before you have a chance to give an answer. Flying into his chest he lets go of your hand to grab at your hips, helping you regain your balance. The slurred apology falls on deaf ears when you and Argyle lock eyes from this close, chest to chest his fingers dig into you just enough to notice.

“I’m not much of a drinker, more of a stoner. Wanna go by the lake? I stole a joint from Eddie before we left,” grinning with pride at your sticky fingers, his lips twitch up, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Woman after my own heart, hell yeah! Let's blow this popsicle stand,” turning you around he keeps his hands on your hips, lips coming close to your ear from behind, “Lead the way my weed smoking goddess”

Goosebumps rise, dancing across your skin at the feeling of his warm breath fanning down your neck as you lead him through the crowd. His hands never leave their spot from your hips, their grip tightening as you get closer to the sliding glass door that takes you out to Rick’s backyard.

Stepping onto the wooden deck he finally lets you go, there’s just a few stragglers outside smoking cigarettes too lost in their own conversation to notice the two of you. The air has lost most of its humidity, leaving the night in a post heatwave glow. The stars gleam bright next to the moon in the clear night sky, reflecting off the water it lights your way as you walk hand in hand down to the lake. Stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye the whole way down, you catch him doing the same thing, both of you giggling every time your eyes meet.

Finding a place nestled next to Rick’s boat house, you were far enough from the party for the loud music and constant chattering to seem like a faint noise in the background. The laps of the water hitting the shore take center stage as you curl your legs under your thighs when you sit like the princess he claimed you to be on the plush grass.

His knee brushes yours when he plops down Indian style next to you, his curious eyes follow yours as you look down at your exposed cleavage. Digging into your bra you pull a perfectly rolled joint with a smug smirk on your face, twirling it around in your dainty fingers he can’t help but throw his head back and laugh.

“I thought chicks only did that in movies, that’s some secret spy shit,.” the smile he gives you makes you want to squirm, “Crafty and beautiful.”

Not used to the kind of confidence he was giving you alone like this, you bite your lip to try and hide your smile as you tuck your hair behind your ears.

“Please, Eddie’s just oblivious,” scoffing, your face feels like the hottest part of the day from words that were sweeter than the ice cream cone you had earlier at Benny’s.

“I think it’s a little bit of both,” winking as he leans back, eyes watching you the way every woman dreams of as you search for a lighter.

“I think Eddie still has the lighter,” the cute pout that pulls at your bottom lip has his fingers twitching.

Holding up his index finger he starts digging through his multicolored jogger pockets.

“No need to worry, I’ve got us covered beautiful,” pulling out a bright yellow Surfer Boy Pizza one, he hands it to you with a lazy lopsided grin.

“My hero,” leaning forward as you snatch it, you dare to press a chaste kiss on his cheek as a token of your gratitude.

His eyes go wide enough to see the whites behind them and that perfect kind of smile that pushes against his cheeks is almost brighter than the moon hanging in the sky.

Scooting closer when you flick the lighter, the breeze that washes over the lake has other plans when it keeps snuffing the flame out. After the third failed attempt Argyle scoots closer, shoulders and thighs touching his big hands cover yours as a shield.

“Thank you,” daring to look at him from this close, his eyes meet yours almost instantly, catching the way they flutter down to your lips and how he has to wet his own after.

Tearing your gaze away, you focus on lighting the joint, the flame catching almost instantly with his help. Twirling it around so it burns even, he lets his hands fall at the same time as you. The palm of yours landing on the top of his, your eyes meeting again as you hollow out your cheeks taking the first hit. He just smirks, not moving an inch, the heat of his body is warm against your skin from this close.

The silence is comfortable as the two of you pass the joint back and forth for a while, fingers brushing purposefully with every hand off. Leaning completely against each other with pinkies hooked between you, he’s the one that breaks the silence when you hit the middle of the joint.

“So have you lived here your whole life?” plucking at the grass next to him he looks up at you with soft eyes as you finish filling your lungs.

“Yep, pretty much. My parents lived in Indianapolis till I was three then moved here for a quieter life,” snorting at the cliche of it, you pass him the joint, “What about you? Always been in California?”

“Yeah, it’s just me and my mom. She’s like the best ever though, so, you know I don’t really need anyone else but her,” taking a big hit of the joint so he didn’t have to elaborate further, you changed the subject.

“Would you ever leave? Like, move somewhere else?” it’s your turn to pick at the grass, the nerves of getting to know a boy getting the best of you.

“What? Like here?” smirking at you when he hands you the joint, your cheeks heat up at what he’s implying.

“No! Don’t move to Hawkins, there’s nothing here,” smiling around the end of the joint you take a hit to distract yourself from his playful stare.

“I don’t know, it seems pretty cool to me so far,” you don’t miss the way his pinky squeezes yours after the sentence leaves his mouth, eyes looking at you pointedly daring you to catch on.

“You wouldn’t survive the winters, I’m sure of it,” looking at him from under the hood of your lashes, your teeth tug at your bottom lip barely hiding your smile when you hand him back the joint.

“What about you? Do you wanna move?” his eyes glaze over when he takes his hit starting to reach the end of it, your bodies buzzing with the high and the excitement of a new crush.

“More than anything, Community College is just really cheap out here and I don’t know what I want to do yet, so the plan is to move anywhere that's not here after I figure that out,” sighing at the thought of finally leaving Hawkins you meet his gaze when you feel the chocolate of his eyes on you.

“I’m going to Community College too! And I also don’t know what I’m doing! Look at us two peas in a pod man,” he’s loud with excitement sending you into a fit of giggles and you lean even deeper into his side as he hands you the joint.

“Just need Eddie hurry it up, he finally graduated but he still has to take two summer school classes. We’re supposed to do this college thing together,” he catches the small frustrated pout you try to hide.

It’s quiet for a minute, the elephant in the room coming back as the sound of the water and crickets fill your ears.

“So you and Eddie like never..?” not bold enough to meet your side eye after the question leaves his mouth, you smirk as you take another rip. Exhaling slowly before handing it back to him.

“We’ve known each other since we were kids so naturally, we tried kissing once. It happened the summer before Junior year,” sticking your tongue out like there was a bad taste in your mouth, the memory makes you shudder, “Too weird, we’re too close.”

Argyle just nods trying to keep his poker face as he takes a hit when he hears that Eddie has actually kissed you before, but you catch on quick.

“Besides, despite the metal appearance,” leaning closer like you were about to indulge in a secret you whisper, “He likes cheerleaders.”

Earning a snort from him the smoke of his inhale flows freely out his nose and mouth as he chuckles at your antics.

“And I like pizza delivery boys, especially cute ones from California,” the weed settles enough to make you feel bold and you watch him freeze at your flirty words.

He slowly meets your gaze, bloodshot eyes scanning your face for any trace of humor but he’s only met with the hungry look in yours staring at his lips, and he swears your brows furrow with want when your tongue glides across wetting your bottom lip.

“Yeah?” his voice cracks when he puts out the remainder of the joint into the ground, angling his body more towards yours.

Nodding, you squeeze your hooked pinky with his silently begging him to give you what you want.

Taking your cue, he leans forward close enough for your noses to touch, the hesitation to fully commit has your lips brushing feather light against his. You can taste the last of the joint as you breath each other in, grabbing a fist full of his shirt when you’ve finally had enough, you close the gap with a satisfied hum when they mold instantly with yours.

It feels like the Fourth of July behind your closed lids, still a month away but the fireworks you swear you feel blur your vision when you lose yourself in him. Begging for more when your tongue swipes across his bottom lip, he groans low when he gives you everything you want. Tongues and teeth clash together desperate like years of pining finally come to an end despite it being less than a day, maybe it was the weed or maybe it was him, but it feels like it’s everything you want and more.

The initial intensity dwindles as you start to move lazy and slow against each other. Taking his time, he savors every giggle and gasp he pulls from you. Your hands find their way into his long hair, it’s even softer than you imagined when your fingers run through it. His hat falls off when you give it a gentle tug at the base of his neck.

Working up enough courage to pull you on his lap, he swallows your moan when you feel the bulge in his pants. The lace panties you wore just for him and the thin material of his joggers is the only thing between you and what’s underneath. Your skirt sits bunched up at your hips with his hands and you can’t help it when you rock against him, feeling every inch of him against your clit.

Pulling you down closer, his lips take a break from yours to make their way over your jaw and down the curve of your neck. Nipping and sucking against all the sweet spots that sit nestled just behind your ear. A high pitched whine escapes you when he applies just the right amount of pressure with his teeth, smiling against your skin, his nose nudges against your earlobe, a soft “Yeah?” sending your nerves down your spine.

His hands make their way to your thighs squeezing at the soft fat before his fingertips drag their way across the expanse of them finding their new home at the curve of your ass. Toying with the sides of your underwear you collect his lips again with your fingers holding onto his chin.

Rocking with a little more force when your tongues meet again, his hands grip you harder making you bite his lip in response.

“You- you can touch me,” your voice is quiet when you dare to say the words out loud, his lips stopping abruptly against yours.

“A-are you sure?” his eyes look black even in the moonlight when they meet yours from over the bridge of your nose.

Nodding against him, you encourage his hand as your lips meet his again, pulling your panties to the side he groans loud into your mouth when he’s met with your slick folds coating his fingertips.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you’re real,” staring up at you, he’s mesmerized at the way you shudder when the pads of his long fingers rub circles on your clit.

Mewling when he lets the tip of his middle finger poke at your entrance, you dig your nails into his broad shoulders when he finally pushes one in, your velvet walls gripping him hard, pulling him deeper. His hips jut up at the sensation only adding to how good it all feels.

“G- god Argyle don’t - don’t stop please,” your demand comes out as a whine when he adds a second finger, curving them slightly brushing that spongy spot inside of you.

“I like that, I like when you say my name like that,” the pad of his thumb meets your bundle of nerves as you start to shamelessly ride his hand, the need to cum taking over all the bashfulness from before.

“Yeah?”

Nodding against the side of your face he nips at your jaw before taking your lips, the strokes of his fingers becoming more deliberate.

He manages to say, “Do it again” between kisses as he curves his fingers once more, getting him exactly what he asked for.

Kisses turn sloppy as you get closer to your release, your hands leave their place on his shoulders to dig at the roots at the nape of his neck, tugging the way that earned you a moan the last time.

He increases the speed of his fingers, the sound of how wet you are is loud enough to be embarrassing but it only makes him twitch inside his pants as he thrusts up, your mouth falling open against his.

“I’m gonna - god - I’m gonna cum,” pulling his hair hard enough it should hurt, he only pushes himself deeper in response, the new intensity sending you over the edge.

“Yeah? Good, come on let me feel it,” his voice is hardly recognizable the moment those words come out of your mouth. Deep and thick with want, it has your thighs shaking as you drench his fingers, face buried in the crook of his neck you let your orgasm wash over you like a storm.

“Jesus, you look like an angel right now,” his voice comes out like a whisper, almost like he’s saying it to himself.

His hips stop their movements as his fingers slow their pace when he feels your body start to calm down, pulling them out despite the fight of your walls they keep fluttering around nothing from the aftershock.

Your gasp is quiet against his skin when you don’t feel so full anymore. You’re too stoned and too tired to open your eyes when you hear the sound of him sucking his fingers clean.

“You’re sweeter than fucking pineapple, I swear,” chuckling at his own revelation your lips tug up into a smirk finally having the strength to meet his gaze.

“You like pineapple?” you had no idea the question would elicit such a strong response until his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Do I like pineapple? Do I like -“ Jonathan’s panicked voice rings out over the lake interrupting the out of body experience Argyle was about to have about fruit.

“Come on guys, Rick kicked Eddie out for selling at his party!”

#argyle #argyle stranger things #argyle smut #argyle x reader #argyle x you #argyle x y/n #argyle imagine #stranger things argyle #argyle x fem!reader #eddie munson #jonathan byers #eduardo franco #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

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theveesbf · 2 months

Note

can u do the dating hcs that u did for AppleJack but with Sunset Shimmer?? (That is my wife frl 🤞🏾) If so tysmmmm!!

Sunset Shimmer dating headcanons

⌗notes - HII omg this took so long💔 guys I swear I'll try to finish all the requests it just takes time😭 ALSO it has been some time since I've watched mlp so I'm sorry if she's ooc 💔💔

⌗content - general dating hcs with sunset shimmer

Sunset Shimmer is very awkward at first, because she never really dated someone before so..

She doesn't really know what is she supposed to do at first.

Obviously with a bit of reassurance from your side she'd be more normal with it.

Expect some kisses here and there, but nothing too long in public!

If you're not in private, Sunset will hold your hand, probably play with your hair and even let you cling to her.

But in private she's more open to affection like longer kisses, cuddling etc!!

I feel like Sunset Shimmer would give you some random things and be like:

"This reminded me of you so.. Here, have it."

Whenever she gets angry, you're like the only person who can actually get Sunset to calm down at the moment.

Depending on what you do (cough kisses cough) she might go from "angry" to "embarrassed".

Sunset Shimmer would be a bit embarrassed to introduce you to her friends at first.

Not because she's embarrassed of your relationship, she just never thought that this would happen and that makes her very nervous about it.

Once you get along with her friends she'd be way more chill and even give you more affection around them.

As long as they don't tease her of course.

#sunset shimmer x reader #mlp x reader #mlp g4 #mlp #sunset shimmer #my little pony #my litte pony friendship is magic #♡ star's writing

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ioniansunsets · 7 months

Note

THIS IS A VERY AGGRESSIVE WAY OF REQUESTINF SOMERHING BUT ILL GIVE TOU 4 DABLOONS IF YOU WRITE SOME KAYN HEARTSTEEL GETTINT ABSOLUTELY EMBARRASED BY HIS GF BECAUSE SHE KEEPS ACTING ALL LOVELY DOVEY IN FRONT OF THE BOYS TO MAKE KAYN FLUSTERED

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Getting Embarassed ✖

✖ Word Count: 560

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: Shorter than usual but I think its really cute!!! I love bullying men and making them all PADJASDASDPOASJ??!?/1/!?/1!!! thank you for asking this, feel free to ask for more I LIKE THIS. Embarrassed face ref under the cut.

----

" Hey! Stop! Stop I tell you! This is my last warning!"

Kayn's face was red as you pepper it with kisses, happily sitting on his lap, arms around his neck, ignoring his cries for help. His arms that was once tightly wrapped around your waist now trying to lift you off him.

" Weren't you the one calling me your precious little baby just mere seconds ago?"

" That was before the rest fucking came in!"

You hear Ezreal and Aphelios snicker as you shower Kayn in love. Kayn, audibly groaning, as he tries to stand up from the couch with you still in his hands. In the kerfuffle, you topple onto the couch, pulling Kayn down with you. Now in an even more compromising position as you laugh with him over you. His breathing was a panicked mess, not used to being seen so uncool and weak in front of his bros. With a small tug, you drag him by his literal collar, pulling him down even closer to you as you hug him. You heard him suck in air as your arms wrap around him. Oh no, did Kayn just stop breathing? With his face near yours, you whisper softly in his ears, just for him to hear. You tell him just how much you love him, how important he is to you, and how cute he was like this all embarrassed thinking about what his precious little friends would think when you know they don't mind. You hear him growl your name as he swallows hard. The tips of his ears now also red from sheer, utter, embarrassment as he coughs a little and promptly tries getting up of you. A scoff leaving his lips as he finally sits up, hair and clothes now a mess from the small play fight.

Kayn's hand instantly rises to his face to cover what he could, trying to hide just how red you made him now that he realized everyone could see just how badly he was blushing as he sits up on the couch. His eyes dart between the you still lying oh so cutely on that damned couch, and his friends staring at him with smirks on their faces. Ok in your defense, the other boys couldn't care less about your relationship with Kayn, it was just Kayn himself who had issues being seen all lovey dovey with you, which meant the boys liked teasing him about it all the more. It wasn't that bad to bully the smug rapper every once in a while. Kayn was always the one teasing you in public anyway, this was a well deserved revenge. As you giggle Kayn shakes his head and he mumbles something to you softly.

" You're making my life hard babe don't do that again...I really can't handle this."

He stares at you with such a look of pure vulnerability it left you stunned. Hells you didn't even know Kayn's facial muscles could pull off an expression like that. Now your heart was the one thumping. A soft barely audible apology leaves your lips as Kayn turns to leave the room to calm down. All you could do was sit and stare, doing your best to commit that cute face to memory. Ah it was unfair how in the end, you were the one still left blushing and speechless.

[[This is the mental image I had writing Kayn's expression hehaoihoiahoaihaohfoihoaiehfoaeihioshdaoi heheheehehehehehe]]

#Im shy just imaging kayn embarassed #i love this i love this #HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHOAIhdosiahdoaish AAAAAAAAAAAa #Kayn x Reader #Shieda Kayn #Heartsteel!Kayn #Kayn League of Legends #SCENARIOS #Kayn League #Kayn LoL #Anon Answer #Shieda Kayn x Reader #I LOVE I LOVE I LOVE I LOVE #heahoifhaoeiheaiohfaioe i cant stop going hehehehehehehe just imaging this #expression ref under the cut #if someone draws kayn like this i will fold frfr #im so down bad

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weskin-time · 1 year

Note

@weskin-time

I have a request...🥺👉👈

I was wondering if u can make scenarios about The (shy) reader confessing (any REV) members *COUGH* (wesker) that they luv them for the first time and there like shock about it bc likeeee the reader is not really good at showing there feelings and there finally have the guts to say ittt to them. hopefully you understand what I'm meaning... 😅

IM SORRY MY GRAMMAR IS SO BADD OMGGG

HI THIS IS CUTE AND I HOPE I DID WHAT YOU MEANT!! HAHAH (also sorry for taking forever)

i got carried away with an idea on Weskers sorry not sorry <3

RE CHARACTERS X SHY!GN!READER

Characters- Albert Wesker, Chris Redfield, Sheva Alomar

not beta read

Chris Redfield

(drooling over this man frfr)

Chris is a good man and a great boyfriend. He knew you were shy, it’s what drew him to you in some sense, he’s been through so much and he thought your personality was a great change of pace compared to what he was used to. He asked you out and the rest was history.

About 3 months into the relationship is when he first said “I love you.” and boy howdy did it send you into a flustered spiral. You wanted to tell him it back but if felt like you were choking on the feelings in your throat, like you were frozen. Chris understood your hesitation, he’s never going to tell you that he finds it cute, but he never pressured you into saying the big words. But wow did you feel like ass for not being able to tell him you love him just as much as he does.

3 months have passed since then, you’ve tried to show him that you love him in other ways and right now you were helping him work out. ‘Helping him out’ as in sitting on the side lines and watching him all while providing conversation and water, sometimes you joined him but your whole body hurt watching him do those hellish burpees.

You helped him keep count all while staring at your boyfriend. The way his muscles flexed under his tight dark green athletic shirt, the way his biceps tensed as he pushed himself up, only to jump up and drop back down to the floor again where you counted the number higher. Chris was a good looking man, but my gods was he one of the sweetest men you’ve ever met in your life.

He cared about you, really cared about you. He listened to everything you said even if he could sometimes barely hear your mumbling when you’re out in public he would listen and respond to you instead of pushing you aside like a doormat. He cherished you and you him. Yes he did all the things normal boyfriends do for their partners but he went above and beyond to make you happy. Too scared to tell the cashier what you want? He would tell them what you wanted with a smile on his face. He never looked down on you for being anxious and shy, he respected you, he loved you for who you are and never got upset at you. He would comfort you in hard times, not yell at you to grow up or brush it off and live in the real world, he would tell you it’s okay and never push your limits. You loved him, and in turn you did anything for him.

“I love you Chris.”

It was out before you could even get a second thought in.

Chris almost fell to the floor in shock at the sudden outburst and confession all while your heart was racing in your ears and heat swarmed your face like flies to honey, the lump in your throat returned but this time of embarrassment.

Your boyfriend on the other hand looked awestruck. His eyes open wide and a smile spread upon his face. It made him look younger, the spark in his eyes, he almost looked like a different person.

You on the other hand we’re dying in your seat.

Suddenly he rushed over and pulled you up and into a hug, all while laughing like a drunk man had won a war, his hand cradling the back of your skull while his other went to your midsection to pull you as close to his sweaty body as he could. You laughed too as your arms wrapped around his neck. His hands changed positions as he pulled back to give your forehead a kiss, they both secured themselves around your waist and hoisted you up off the ground into a spin hug.

To say he was smitten with you would be an understatement.

———————————————————

Sheva Alomar

(Woman by Doja Cat starts playing bARK BARK my wife.)

You may have fallen for Sheva the day you met her, honestly.

The two of you met through a mutual friend and the two of you just hit it off instantly. She was strong willed and loyal, kind and soft but could kick your ass in more ways than you could even know, not to mention she was radiating beauty with every breath she took.

She seemed to be curious about you at first more than anything, in her line of work she rarely meets shy people. She instantly respected you and didn’t ask you to speak up or act different, she listened to every word you said and didn’t poke fun at you. The two of you became fast friends, you asking her to teach you some fighting moves to which she agreed, and one thing lead to another and she asked you out on a date to which you of course said yes after almost dying in a sea of flustered mess.

2 months in is the first time she said ‘I love you’. She took you home from a date and as she gave you a kiss goodbye she said the three words. When you started your relationship you let her know before hand that emotions were hard for you to express, that they get caught in your throat and are blocked by your flustered tongue, she understood and still agreed to start a relationship with you, so she didn’t expect you to say anything back and she left with you standing at your door speechless.

3 months have gone by, nice and easy. Every time she says ‘I love you’ you respond with ‘you too’ like she’s telling you to have a nice day. You felt bad that you’ve yet to say it even though she told you it was alright you still felt bad about it, which in turn made your shyness worse, like a snake eating it’s tail. So you thought ‘fuck it’ and you were going to tell her tonight even if you exploded, she had to hear the words.

You took her to have a picnic and watch the stars. A lantern in hand you two hiked up a hill in the middle of no where, where light pollution wouldn’t ruin the view. She could tell the entire night that your nerves were on high, slightly shaking as you ate, a wobble in your voice, not to mention your cheeks radiated heat that could burn her if she touched them.

The stars were beautiful. The light dancing in the sky was nothing compared to your girlfriend. The two of you talked about nothing important, you could barely hear her over the sound of your heartbeat in your chest and the rushing of blood in your ears.

You looked to her, and he turned her body to face you, to stare at you with her beautiful dark eyes that the stars made its home, her hair loose and ticking her face, she was beautiful.

“I love you.”

The words spilled out of your lips before you told yourself to don’t even think about it. You instantly wanted to curl into a ball and evaporate, or maybe go to the hospital because your heart shouldn’t be beating this fast to be healthy.

She laughed, a smile as bright as the stars in the sky tugged at her lips, “I love you too.”

————————————————————

Albert Wesker

(putting him into a blender i hate him /lh /hj)

Excella Gionne wasn’t always the Regional Director of Tricell, she was given that spot thanks to Albert Wesker, and thanks to him you became her assistant.

You’d first meet the man the day you became her assistant, Excella telling you it’s important to meet everyone you’d be working with along side her even if you’d be stuck at a desk job most days. This was days after she became the head of the Bio-weapons devision, before Jill Valentine, before Irving was hired, before the BSAA had their nose in Africa.

Excella practically forced you into a room to meet him, regardless of your stammering she never jumped in to help you make acquaintance. Through mumbled words and not looking at him the entire time you stated your name and that it would be a pleasure to work with him.

A pleasure it was indeed. It was funny in some regard to see your boss throw herself at a man who clearly had little to no interest in her, how she begged him to look at her and want her but his eyes never even looked at her for anything less than a glance. She wasn’t important to him, he was just using her, everyone and their grandmother could see it, you felt kinda bad for her in some way.

Wesker seemed to like you though, and not in the same way he ‘liked’ Excella. He teased you about your shy nature a lot, to where you think he made it a game to see how flustered he could make you, awkward social situations, bumping into you and ‘accidentally’ making you drop papers, asking if you have a fever or if you’re feeling alright. It was unending and yet he grew on you. Your shyness soon was doubled as you began to grow fond of him, even thinking he was attractive and yet you feared you were acting like Excella.

One day as you were dropping off samples to him and he asked you out. You thought it was a joke at first to get you to fluster but he was serious, so you agreed.

Dating your bosses businesses partner didn’t really go over well. Needless to say she fired you but thankfully your new boyfriend hired you as his own assistant, which honestly wasn’t fun because Excella still was his lap dog and just flirted with him to spite you knowing you would ‘never grow a backbone’ as she had put it once. She sucked.

About 4 months into your relationship it took a turn. You reminded him that it was time for his injection of the prototype virus, which he asked you for help with. You agreed and he taught you how to prepare and safely inject him with the serum. The next time he needed it you did it by yourself, which you were proud you didn’t shake and stab him in the wrong spot but as you were injecting it he made you look at him and he confessed.

Now if Albert Wesker was the embodiment of emotional constipation what did that make you?

2 months later he invited you back to his place for a three course dinner and desert. Fancy ass. Everything was set up, everything was fancy, your favorite food was brought to you first and the desert melted in your mouth and was so good you almost wanted to cry.

You stood with Wesker on the balcony of his penthouse, the night air cool against your skin as Wesker pressed you against him. He could feel how tense you were.

“Are you alright dear?” He looked down at you.

“Yea i’m fine don’t worry.” you gave an unconvincing chuckle.

He just cocked a brow at you as you breathed a little deeper and shook your head, trying to calm the beating of your heart and the nausea of your emotions.

“Hey Al?” You asked with your eyes screwed tightly closed.

“Yes my sweet?”

You opened them and turned your head to look at your boyfriend. “I love you.”

He seemed to freeze for a second, his eyes searching yours as you died inside fully embarrassed before he relaxed somewhat.

“I love you too dearheart.”

#tezi post #albert wesker #resident evil #resident evil x reader #ask!#resident evil imagine #wesker #albert wesker x reader #wesker x reader #albert wesker imagine #chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #sheva alomar x reader #sheva alomar #re5 #resident evil 5 #chris redfield imagine #sheva alomar imagine

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