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#i want to imagine him in jeans so bad you have no idea but i can only see it on VERY RARE occasions and he's not thrilled LOL
sagaued · 24 hours
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How do you think characters would react to you putting mods on them? Like all of a sudden said character would be walking around and bam their outfit just changes into something completely different or another character?
Like mods for characters that changes them into a different character?
Omg I love this idea. As someone that used to use mods, this is hilarious.
Characters getting new skins/mods
Characters used -> Jean, Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli
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Jean:
Jean wouldn't notice till Lisa pointed it out, due to being overworked.
"What do you mean my outfit is different? I always wear my- oh..."
If it was provocative (like some are), I imagine it would fluster her so bad that you wanted to see her in such a thing.
"I-I can't believe Their Grace wants to see me in this!"
And since she can't take it off unless you remove the mod, she would have to do her work in that. 🤭
"I can't get it off! I can't work like this!"
If it's not provocative and just another outfit, she would be appreciative, but would like her KOF outfit better because it's what she works in.
"Oh.. it's nice, but can I have my uniform back?"
If it's a skin to change her in another character, it would make her unbelievably sad, as she would think you only got her for someone else.
"Does Your Grace not like me...?"
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Kaeya:
Would notice instantly
"Oh? What's this?"
If provocative, he absolutely would brag to everyone that you wanted to see him in it.
"Master Diluc, such a shame Their Grace didn't pick you to wear this!"
If not provocative, he would still find a way to brag.
"Master Diluc~! Their Grace chose my outfit, and not yours!"
If it's to change him into someone else, he would be disappointed, like all others. (Would still tease and/or be hot about it because Kaeya's Kaeya)
No dialogue
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Xiao:
Would notice instantly
"...What is this?"
If provocative, he wouldn't show himself in public and would stay inside mostly.
"No. I'm not leaving my room, traveler."
If not provocative, he would enjoy wearing it due to it being from you. (Absolute tsundere about it)
"What? Why would I be enjoying this?"
If it's to change him into a different character, would have some angsty thoughts about it.
"...of course Their Grace wouldn't like to see me. I guarantee my Karmic Debt disgusts them."
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Zhongli:
Would notice instantly
"Their Grace does this a lot, do not worry, traveler."
If provocative, would sigh and hide in the funeral parlor until it was taken off.
"Ms. Hutao.. please do not tell anyone of my... Predicament.
If not provocative, would go old man mode and tell stories of the outfits he wore.
"My outfits are stories of people passed-"
If it's to change his character, he would be disappointed, sure, but would be curious about who it was.
No dialogue
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willowser · 5 months
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willow!!! am dropping by with some flowers and fruits to brighten up the season!!! 🌷🍓 wishing you lots of love this holiday time!! 💗i hope you feel warm and recharged, however way you’re spending it 🥺
on the topic of the holidays!! i am curious!! (feel free not to answer if you’re uncomfy!!) what is your go-to outfit?? do you prefer to dress up?? or stay comfy and relaxed?? what would katsuki opt to wear??? 🥺
hello sel my lil sunshine 🥺✨️ tysm for the holiday treats !!! i've had a very nice lil vacay and it has been very restful !! i hope that your holiday was just as lovely as you 😌
lemme think !! tbh i am quite boring in the fashion department LOL quite plain !!! and—i'm answering this with the holiday in mind if that's okay !!—if we were going out to a family event, i would probably wear something comfy but appropriate !! i don't care what kind of event i'm wearing a cozy sweater 😌✨️
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also katsuki omg ! i have a pinterest board where i post the kind of style i think he would have so i am GLAD to talk about this question 😌 i think he's a lil picky so i don't have much but when i come across the right thing, it's going in there !! 😌 i think he is almost always wearing something comfy LOL if he can get away with it, he's wearing loose fitting pants and a jacket of some kind 😒 and the annoying thing is that he can pull off anything 😒 i think he would try to step it up a lil if we were going to an party or family's house, but he's not wearing anything tight LOL
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tysm for asking sel !! 🥺 i love when you send in questions like this 😌 it gives me more to put in my self ship tag LMAOO smooching you 🩷
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
-
This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
16K notes · View notes
lewisvinga · 3 months
Text
the designer vs. the model | charles leclerc x fem! reader
summary; fans begged and begged fashion icon and designer y/n to help charles out, luckily for him, she gave him the girlfriend effect
fc; jennie kim
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs
note; requested !
masterlist !
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liked by yourbestfriend, and others
yourusername: cannes film festival; the design, before & after 🎀
username: AN ICON
username: i knew she’d eat this gala up😩
yourbestfriend: my beautiful talented best friendddd😻
yourusername: hehe love u xx
username: her talent needs to be studied
username: pls style charles_leclerc he needs help
username: studying fashion to be just like y/n!
username: y/n we need your talent on the f1 grid specifically in the ferrari garage specifically charles_leclerc
username: heyyy girl, u gonna need to share your styling talents w a certain monegasque 😁
username: oh i just know she’d give charles the girlfriend effect
username: STYLE CHARLES_LECLERC
yourusername: whaaaa ö
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liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and others !
charles_leclerc: new profession: photographer
username: omg y/n liked!
username: we bullied him into only wearing sweatshirts and jeans omg 😭😭
username: thats what he gets for his horrendous style…
pierregasly: imagine you as a photographer 😂
charles_leclerc: hey! i’m not too bad!
username: yourusername pls help this poor man , he has very poor fashion taste🙏
username: ok this fit isn’t too bad, plain! but not that bad!
username: yourusername mother pls help father out
yourusername: i think the people want me to style you , haha !
charles_leclerc: my style can’t be that bad, no?
yourusername: it could use some improvement…
charles_leclerc: well, i’m open for suggestions!
yourusername uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; don’t worry ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make sure he has a good wardrobe 😇!] [caption 2; designing n making some new pieces for his closet 😵‍💫]
charles_leclerc uploaded to their story !
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[caption 1; the forced smile after i showed her some outfit ideas…] [caption 2; her real smile after i got her a latte for being patient w my poor fashion skills😁
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz5, and others !
charles_leclerc: photo dump , but do you notice any new fashion improvements ? 😁
yourusername: much better than those horrendous blue and white pants …
charles_leclerc: they weren’t that bad
yourusername: cha…… they were horrid
username: wait…. he fr looks good
yourusername: he’s got a pretty face but thats just enhanced by the better fashion sense!😁
charles_leclerc: u think i’m pretty?😊
yourusername: ur my prettiest model
username: OH HELLO
username: hes 100% dating y/n bc thats an improvement from that horrid blue outfit 😭
username: muy buenos días y que vivan los hombres 😍 [very good morning and long live men]
username: his style is improving, everyone cheered!
username: the sigh of relief i just let out
carlossainz55: mate, you have everyone relieved from your new fashion improvements 🤣
charles_leclerc: and i can see why after i looked at my old outfits…
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, and others !
yourusername: the designer vs. the model 🌸
tagged; charles_leclerc
charles_leclerc: where would my closet be w/o you, chérie…
yourusername: unfortunately, seen in the public
charles_leclerc: my favorite and the most prettiest designer ❤️
yourusername: you’re my favorite and the most prettiest model 💞
username: oh my goodness gracious me
username: STOPP THEYRE SO CUTE😖😖
username: she got him a good pair of glasses thank u queen y/n
username: them at the basketball game together 🥹🥹🥹🥹
username: we’re abt to get the best charles outfits thank u y/n😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏
yourbestfriend: watch your back sharl she was mine first
charles_leclerc: womp womp she’s mine now
yourusername: ladies, ladies, there’s enough of me to go around ( btw yourbestfriend come over asap i need to do another fitting on u )
2K notes · View notes
latenightdaydreams · 1 month
Note
Okay, imagine mechanic!Konig who fixes your car and is just you know- hot. And then as payment he wants a date. In the back of his car. Where he fucks your brains out and is just so sweet. Mutters the dirtiest things about always being able to fix your car if you give him a baby or something and is just- god I'm feral for this man. And your writing!
Anyway, sorry if it's a weird ask. I love your writing to death, it's fantastic! Make sure to eat yummy snacks and stay hydrated!
AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! That means so much to me and I'm so happy to have such great supporters like you! I absolutely LOVE this idea! I hope you enjoy! Thank you so so much for your support!! 💗
Mechanic!König x reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Part 2
>cw: fem/afab, sex for payment, p in v, breeding kink, dirty talk
Word count: 1.4k
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You turn your car off and step out, accidently slamming the car door behind you. The ground underneath your feet is uneven as you make your way towards the open garage door. The place looks old and the location seems right out of a horror movie, but you push those thoughts aside.
Looking inside the garage you see a man bent over under the hood of a red pick-up truck. His dirty white shirt and oil-stained jeans are all you can see of him.
“Excuse me? Sir? Hi, I’m y/n, I was wondering if you could look at my car?” Your voice is small and polite, like your customer service voice.
König stops working on the truck and stands, looking over at you. His eyes roam your body, taking in your shape before his icy blue eyes finally meet yours. He looks around as if to check if you were here with anyone or if you came alone.
“What’s wrong with it?” He asks stoically not giving away how attracted to you he is just yet.
“I have trouble starting it and when it does turn on it makes this terrible screeching noise,” Your eyes scan his body, his muscles glistening from a light sheen of sweat across his body. His face is stern with scars across his cheek and upper lip, but it doesn’t take away from his handsomeness.
König stays quiet for a while before walking forward and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off on, “Okay, let me take a look.”
Tossing the rag aside he walks forward towards you with his hand out for your keys. You place them in his palm, his eyes looking down at you as he towers over you with his 6’10 frame. You turn on your heels and walk to your car with König following close behind. His eyes are glued to the way your ass sways with every step you take.
He unlocks your car and leans in to turn the car on. His eyes watching the dashboard as the engine stalls turning over. Once your car eventually does, he hears the loud sound you spoke of and he knows the issue.
“You have a bad alternator.” He steps back and looks down at you before opening the hood of your car. “It’s an easy fix, should only take an hour, two at most.”
His eyes go back to you and his gaze lingers on your cleavage before looking back down at the car, “There are seats in the shop, you can wait there.”
“Okay, thank you.” You walk back to the garage and pull out your phone to help pass the time. You look around to see an old photo of a car and nothing else personal. The space is clean and only the sound of his radio fills the space.
An hour and a half passes by and König walks in. You put your phone back in your bag and stand.
“She turns on, no issues now.” He says as his eyes look around the shop trying not to be too intense with his gaze.
“Oh, thank you so much sir, -”
“König.” He cuts you off, his gaze going back to yours.
“Thank you, König.” You smile warmly at him. Looking down at your purse you begin to fish your wallet out, “How much do I owe you?”
König looks at the wallet in your hands before his gaze travels over your body once more. He wasn’t interested in your money. There is one thing he’s wanted since he saw you walking up to him, you. He didn’t want to be a perve and ask for it, so he just gave you a price, “$600.”
Your face drops as you only have $400 until next payday, “Can I pay $200 now, and the rest later.”
“I don’t take payments.”
“Oh...”
“But,” he walks closer to you, “I’m sure we can figure something out.” His large hand caresses the side of your face, a smirk on his lips.
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You end up in the back of his SUV with blacked out windows parked behind his garage. Your clothes stripped off and thrown on the floor, your body completely exposed to him. His shirt pulled off showing you his muscular abdomen as his pants are pulled down around his knees. A soft blonde happy trail leading from his belly button to his erection. One of his hands gripping your thigh and holding one leg up as his other hand guides his condomless cock to your pussy.
He pushes in slowly at first, letting out a soft groan as he feels how tight you are. Your warm gummy walls wrapping around his cock as he bullies his way inside.
“Mein Gott your pussy is so tight Maus,” he moans as he grabs your other leg now. His lips kiss your legs up to your feet as he slowly bucks his hips forward. Your hands grasp the seat as he fucks you. Pathetic mewls leave your lips, feeling your pussy being stretched to an almost painful point.
“You’re so beautiful…” Letting go of one leg, he moves his hands down to your breast and begins to tug on your nipple, leaning in as his lips find your nipple; licking before sucking on your sensitive peak. His tongue circling around before wrapping his lips around and pulling gently, your fingers combing through his blonde hair. His mind wished you were full of milk so he could drink from you. His hands dropping down to your stomach and caressing your soft skin. Oh, how beautiful you’d look swollen and full with his child.
“You need a man to take care of you Schatzi,” he leans back and looks at your pretty pussy stretching around his fat cock. The sound of your wet cunt sounding like angels singing to him. He pushes both legs back and leans into you more as he begins to pound your pussy harder. His eyes watching your breast bounce before his eyes travel to your stomach. You’re tiny compared to his massive body, but taking his dick so well.
“I could be that man,” he groans, “you’d never have to worry about your car ever again Liebling.” His voice was laced with lust and ecstasy. König has never desired a woman so much before as he desires you.
“Just have my baby, let me fuck my baby into you.” He growls as one of his hands goes to your sopping wet pussy as begins to rub your clit.
Legs twitching, you’re lost in the euphoria of the moment. His cock filling you and making you so dick dizzy you don’t even fully register his words. “Please, yes, fuck me.”
“That’s what I want to fucking hear.” König grabs your leg and moves you on your side. He lays his body behind you on the seat and lifts your leg up. His face by yours as he gently kisses your neck and the side of your face. His cock slipped back into your wet pussy, causing your eyes to flutter. He let out a small sigh, “That’s my girl.”
König moves hair from your face as he continues to kiss all over you, “You’re so perfect Schatzi.”
His hand slowly slips down your thigh as he begins to rub your clit again, “Cum for me Liebling, cum on my cock.”
You turn your head to look at König, his eyebrows pinched together as his mouth hangs open. His eyes meet your and he leans in to kiss your soft lips. His tongue licks your lips before pushing between them. His tongue twirling in yours and tasting you, he’s in heaven. He can feel you begin to tighten around him as your legs begin to tremble. Your kiss begins to get lazy as you concentrate on your orgasm.
“Please, please, please.” You moan out, your breathing heavy. His hand rubs over your swollen sensitive clit faster making you squirm in his arms. You feel how wet you get as your pussy begins to squeeze around his cock, his balls tightening as he is eager to get off.
König’s eyes roll back as he leans his head against the seat now, his arm under you wrapping tightly around your stomach and grabs it.  “Do you want my cum?”
“Yes,” you look back still on a high and watch his face as he closes his eyes while the pleasure takes over his whole being, “please cum in my tight pussy.”
That made him let out a loud groan as he moaned your name. His cock begins to throb as he releases deep inside of you. He leans forward to kiss your neck and check, desperately wanting your lips. You turn your head to meet his lips as you both kiss passionately.
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Nine weeks later your car is still running great, but you’re 4 days late.
Part 2
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onyourhyuck · 9 months
Text
Fix Me Softly. | L.DH
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— Prologue: “Open wide pretty girl will ya?”
— Summary: Your best friend has the most dirtiest thoughts about you and he isn’t shy about sharing them with you.
— Genre: Himbo Haechan. Haechan’s literally the most perverted person in this fic. There’s just something about unhinged Haechan who’s a sex maniac tbh. Switch!hyuck. DUB-CON. Oral (fem receiving) and throat fucking (male receiving). Unprotected sex. Haechan is obsessed with y/n thighs. Face riding. Pinning. Cum-play. Hickeys. Possessive Haechan.
— Notes: Sex Obsessed Haechan >>>
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There’s one person you won’t ever understand.
That person being your best friend Haechan.
He was like someone out of another world, when he’s with you Haechan knows zero boundaries. He knows zero social cues. When you are around him Haechan is almost like a wild-animal.
“God you’re so pretty when you study. I want to kiss you so bad Y/n.” He wasn’t shy at all even though he’s meant to be doing this working assignment with you in your bedroom, he was too distracted by your serious face watching the laptop.
You’re trying your best to not give out a reaction considering that Haechan actually enjoys having you hear his dirty thoughts about you all the freaking time. Every minute you guys are together there was not a single moment where he doesn’t tell you how much he wants to fuck you.
You frown looking over at him. “Did you finish your assignment yet or are you here to disturb me?”
Seeing Haechan watching you so intensely it’s almost as if he was already imagining himself wanking off to you while he sees your serious face. He loves it when you scold him too.
Haechan pouts a bit. “No I didn’t finish the assignment. You’re too distracting.”
You sigh. “I told you if you won’t take this seriously I won’t invite you back to my bedroom.”
“But I want you so bad, you can’t do this to me. Please just one kiss and I’ll focus that’s all it takes for me to focus on our college assignment.”
You’re in disbelief at your best friend. Haechan has always had this thing about you. He enjoys your presence and your company. You’re attractive and he just so happens to be attracted to his best friend. Haechan doesn’t even want to hide it how much he is attracted to you.
Sometimes he would lean to kiss you and you would move your head to push him away. Sometimes in class he wants to touch your thigh so badly so he does it and you slap his hand away.
“I really have the urge to take off my jeans and have you take my cock in your mouth right now…” he whispers, as if this was a very casual thing to say to a friend right now.
At times you’re the one rejecting him and telling him to keep his annoying thoughts away because he feels like you don’t believe him when he says how much he wants to fuck you. How much he wants to take a taste of your pussy or the fact that he actually wants to kiss your tempting little pretty lips.
“You’re such a pervert.” You mutter mockingly while he leans in to kiss you on your mouth but you move your face away.
He whines when you moved away from his lips just about when he was going to touch them.
Haechan curls his fingers on your sleeve that you’re wearing. You glare at him now that you see how much he was giving you those puppies eyes.
“Ahh Y/n please one kiss won’t hurt you.”
You can’t believe him but sometimes you really do have the urge to shut him up by kissing him so he could just do the work.
“Shut up and do your work already.” You huff. How do you fix your best friend? You have no idea how to fix Haechan at all.
Haechan draws shapes on your arms with his fingers while watching you. The black hair with white stripes in them make him look edgy but in a way the edgy clothes and style he has makes him attractive. You do admit your friend here was very attractive and he probably has many pros to himself.
But the only side thing is that Haechan wants to have your mouth stuffed full of his meat in your mouth and you’re unstable to process that image in your head.
The fingers with black nail polish on them softly tan down from your forearm to your thighs now to draw shapes on there.
You stare at him while he keeps the eye contact back. For a moment you’re just watching each other in complete silence.
He wasn’t doing his work, and you’re rocking with the fact that there won’t be any work done between you guys at all.
“Please Y/n one kiss… I’m begging you.”
Haechan whispers to your ears with his soft whining voice sounding almost like whimpers that makes your skin crawl.
You’re tempted to just do it so you can get on with the college work honestly.
You glare forward with your hand reaching out grabbing a hold of his chin and slowly lean in kissing him roughly for a second or two. You pull away and leave your hand on his chin. You saw the boy gasp and how much he enjoyed it he was moaning by a single touch of your hand on his skin, and a single small kiss took half of his breath away.
Haechan was craving more now that he knows how your lips feel on his. He leans closer and takes a longer kiss on your mouth without you noticing. You’re now kissing Haechan, trapped in a kiss he puts on your body while crawling on top of you with his running hands down to your waist.
The laptop was pushed aside and you’re kissing him back feeling your senses shut you down. Haechan’s tongue roams across your own walls while he was kissing you. Exploring your sweet lingering mouth that he’s been fantasying about for so long.
It feels so artful to have you spread out on your bed in your dorm room with clothes coming off so gracefully leaving your figure looking empty until Haechan pressed forward his heart-shape mouth dangerously trailing down to your dainty collarbones, upwards your neck leaving marks on your tidy skin. It made you look like a toy in his eyes, but you’re now his toy to be played with. You belong to him now, because the sight of those love bites were a bright reddish colour spreading right up and down your throat angle.
Adding the adept hands between your thighs, he squeezed your inner thigh before rubbing it up and down. The small caresses has your fuzzy mind overflowing out a cracking hole out of nowhere, and the area on your panties were soaking by the time he was gazing you with such a high maintenance look behind those eyes, that tell you you’re not going anywhere.
So clean and cunning. The growing shaft in those tights jeans of his was hardening by the sight of your open legs where he ran down a single finger down to your clothed clit.
You moan on the outside, despite trying to mentally keep your own noises away from reality. You’re here staring Haechan down as he admires your leakage patch on your panties.
“Oh Y/n…you’re so wet for me. I always knew you wanted me but you were playing hard to get. You’re such a minx.” He coos with a growling tease.
Looking at your dumbfounded expression when he said this. Haechan leans down to your ears kissing it. “You’re such a whore, I knew you were lying to me. Rejecting me all this time.” His hands squeeze your hips as he lifts you up on the bed a little.
You mumble a few trails of sighs when Haechan suddenly swapped your positions with you on his lap while he was leaning back casually. Expression on his face tells you he wants something from you and you’re bound to give it to him. It was a fact and not a choice here, and your stomach had this strange fluttering knot deep inside telling you to do it.
He leers mockingly. “Why don’t you let me have a taste of your pussy, Y/n?”
Brushing over his hands on your thighs up and down as you shiver when hearing his words, your voice comes out so tiny and small compared to Haechan’s voice and his intimidating eyes. The black eyeliner on the waterline makes his black eyes so much more magnetic and the black painted fingertips brushing down the skin on your thighs, you could dissolve like crazy from how good his touches feel.
The question was rather sounding like a statement more than an actual question.
You knew deep down the rhetoric answer for him when he moved up to your ass behind groping it pulling your body up only a bit so your thighs welcome the sight of your pussy above him. Haechan pushed aside the wet patch on your panties on the side and then, a grounding slithering wetness of a warm wetness covers your womanhood. Haechan is almost like a starved maniac, coating your cunt with his warm saliva with extreme motions. Circling down the tip of his tongue inside your walls only to pull away and press down even more force of his lips on your own tempting lips down below.
It was wet and sloppy just like how Haechan liked it. He loves hearing your body jolt with each movements because you don’t know what else to expect from the eccentric sex maniac underneath you eating you out.
You don’t know what he will do next, but all you can think about was how skilled Haechan was at eating you out while you’re pressing your thighs on the sides of his face and shoulders. Your toes were curling up with each stroke of his gliding tongue.
He growls against your mound while tightly digging the fingernails in your thick thighs.
“Roll your hips for me baby, please.” It sounded so desperate when Haechan rasps out below your sensitive parts.
It was a demand too. Springing the hips backwards and forward around in all sorts of motion you’re realising the increasing pleasure of your own body, driving down a road. The boy underneath you was nothing more than just a hungry wild animal growling against your wet slit running down his chin.
You’re releasing out your moans without a single thought able to be processed; it’s like every single braincell you had was now no longer existing.
Knot in your stomach was heavy, like a threatening ticking bomb ready to combust.
Haechan loves how you are riding his face now to your own pace that became extremely fast when the pleasure you felt became so much more intense than the high you’ve received from him previously. Dragging down the black painted fingernails on your thighs you’re grunting when you feel Haechan sucking on your clit. Abusing it.
Pressuring on your clit sucking on it with his plum heart-shape lips, as well as vibrating his grunting noises that he can’t contain. You taste absolutely heavenly to not comment on.
He fantasise too much about you. Too long he waited for this moment you’d give in to his shenanigans. It’s been far too long.
One point in his life Haechan was convinced that he cannot be fixed by anyone. The obsession he has with you wasn’t something ordinary.
But here you are Fixing Him Softly by letting him have a taste of you, letting him eat you out like the silly whore you are. Oh how the tables have turned. You ended up rejecting him for so long only to end up in this vulnerable position.
“That’s right, you’re about to cum aren’t you?” Haechan affirms with a domineering tone that creates goosebumps on your skin.
You’re nodding your head. “Fuck— Yes…! I’m right there…”
“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you gasp.
Undertook by the coming heat happening in between your spreading legs you are nipping at your bottom lip as broken incomplete moans break out. Haechan sucks on the sensitive side part of your pussy finally eager to taste your running juices that are dripping all the way down his chin and neckline. You’re holding your own hanging mouth as the heat on your face creates this flush, as if you were sick. You’re unable to see or breathe for a long moment or two. It leaves behind this scorching ember burning in your stomach.
Quicker strokes pull out of you as Haechan was groaning when your thighs tenderly pushed and squeeze around his face, while he rubs down his hand on your bare back.
“Such a filthy slut, that’s right take all of it.” He said with heavy groans coming out as if he held his breath in when the taste of his tongue remains. “Mmm, I love this perfect pussy of yours.”
He was so drunk on you. Drunk of your taste.
The growing number in his pants was due to take place when he looks back at your feverish face. You look so intoxicated, as if he made you this way.
Grabbing on your body the hands creep at your back while the place changes. You’re moving when you see him standing up over the bed dropping down the thick layer of jeans down, along with the boxers. He saw your eyes widen immediately when you saw the shaft spring up looking so wide and big.
Eyes lurches down to his cock threatening you by standing up against his perfectly flat and tone stomach. The beautiful tan on his body makes you salivate and drool. You cannot hold back when your eyes crawl higher up to take a look at Haechan who was smirking.
He purrs. “Open wide pretty girl will ya?” Brushing his fingers under your chin stroking it, you shiver as you feel your cheeks heat up.
You weren’t expecting the sight of him to be this ethereal.
Your voice comes out hushed. “Mm Haechan…” As the round ball shaped tip pressed by your mouth. He purposely teased your mouth by making his large tip poke but not go in your mouth at all.
The tip pulls at your lower lip and you whine when he was now deciding to be such a tease.
“Hurry up.” You demand with your stern eyes, loving that you’re now getting more demanding and less shy.
“Nuhuh baby, i give commands here.”
Haechan wants to see what you’d do if he continued to be as bratty as he is now. You’re waiting for him to give you the next move but he was staying still.
Biting his bottom lip when you glare at him. There’s no way you’ll let him boss you around when you’re this needy to have a taste of him now.
Pulling your palm over the shaft you grab it forward pushing the very fine thickly round shaped tip inside your warming mouth. Haechan wasn’t expecting you to be this quick with your reflexes. He didn’t see this coming. To watch you take slight control of the situation by pulling his entire length inside your mouth. You let him overfill your space.
It feels so damn good though.
He bit his bottom lip, raspy husked speaking out as his hands brushed your hair into a messy half-tried ponytail. “Goddamn baby…didn’t know you had that in you.”
Shifting between teasing you and sounding so heavenly under you. Haechan was enjoying the sight of your head bopping up and down — you took him so seriously and perfectly in your small mouth. Despite the large size, you managed to reach down to his very end.
You make him limp with each stroke your tongue rolls against wrapping your saliva and own slipping tongue like a blanket on his cock.
Stuffing you full but you don’t seem to mind when Haechan was moaning vocally.
He was very open about you knowing every— and you mean every trailing dirty thought he has in his brain right now.
“Shit. You look so much better with my cock stuffing you full. I bet you love this don’t you?” His tongue licks his bottom lip. “Am I right?”
Brushing fingers in the messy ponytail behind your head so he could see the full show you put on while your kitten licks turn to strokes.
You moan a sweet hum against the shaft as you’re trailing down your lips even more.
The tension only grows as you’re sucking him so much Haechan can barely stay still. You’re making him physical weak on the knees and he can’t stay still when you’re practically sucking him dry.
Haechan thrusts forward the hips. Whenever it got so much you’re dragging down his cock into your throat so the thick mushroom tip was banging the back of your mouth, as you deep throat him, Haechan couldn’t help but want more deep ness and he became greedy.
Hips thrust even more and more into your face making all sorts of gagging sounds come out while Haechan’s black hair with soft white streaks became messy hanging down his eyes while the dark gaze was watching you take everything he gave.
Fucking your mouth was always a dream come true for him and now that he was experiencing what fantasy he craves,
He can’t get enough now.
“Oh…oh mmfgh y/n you’re doing so well right now, give me more… please give me more. Please.. fuck,”
Crying out for you. Haechan’s eyes go dim and he was breaking every soft whine escaping those shattering lips.
“I need you to milk my cock dry until i can’t cum anymore.”
You knew that he meant every word underline in bright red. He was being serious. Haechan wants you to suck his own very soul out of him.
Who were you to say no to Haechan when he was begging you so nicely? You feel some empowering dominance over you now when you see the boy shaking from the overstimulating electricity running down his spine and overtaking the very burning ball feeling in his stomach.
Flickering your tongue down his cock once more, Haechan’s head sputters. It feels like a raging headache has split his head into two. The overfilling sensation of cumming inside your mouth as the final push results in Haechan’s knees becoming jelly.
Haechan wails. “Cumming… ah fuck, fuck. I love your mouth so much.. so good,” He breathes heavily.
Detaching your jawline pulling away from the cock in your mouth, it slips out with a watery liquid that tastes between sweet and salty. You can’t put your tongue on what he tastes like. But it was definitely rewarding.
Especially when you see the tired exhaustion on his face.
It tells you everything. You made him have the biggest orgasm he could ever imagine. Haechan gasps when he sits down with a sluggish head on the pillows and you turn your head towards him.
You definitely fixed him. Made him much calmer.
“You still have your assignment to finish.”
You remind him with a strict gaze.
Haechan closed his eyes grumbling. “I know, I know. I’ll finish it in a minute just give me a second — geez Y/n you just sucked me into the next century and you mention the assignment!”
“Okay? Don’t act like you didn’t tell me to do that.”
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out.
3K notes · View notes
fillinforlater · 4 months
Text
On her jeans (Part 1 of 3)
Male Reader x Kim Minji
Length: 3128 words
Tags: backstory, sex as payment, degradation, all things blowjob: face fuck, deep throat, gagging, chocking, throat bulging, rough face sex, training, passive hand job, master/daddy kink, desperate_trainee!Minji
TW: Minji is selling herself here kinda (oh no)
Credit: @sooyadelicacies for co-writing this crazy series with me. Mad lad!
-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-
(A/N: Hey you! I know you're reading this. Get ready for your favorite girls to get defiled one-by-one. Goon or go (or something like that, sounded cooler in my head). For everyone else, have fun!)
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"Huh? Minji? What are you doing here?" 
Kazuha asks, surprised to see the still-trainee on this floor of the HYBE building, knocking on an unoccupied training room that she has nothing to do with usually.
"I-I came here to ask you about something,” the younger stutters. “I heard you were personally selected for LE SSERAFIM—and that there is some backer for your success. Even th-the group's scandal went away without a hitch. 
“Who is helping you, who is he?"
"What are you talking about?" Kazuha responds, face in scrunches. 
"I know that you know, Unnie," Minji says and catches the door before Kazuha can close it again. "I need answers, please. I-I've seen their plans, this is going to blow up, we'll be a failure, HYBE's loving stock.
"I can't fail this."
Kazuha looks at the determined young girl, her face loosening up a bit, turning from trying to defend her future spot at your side from a new rival to worrying for Minji. She curls her finger and Minji enters the otherwise empty training room.
"You have some dangerous knowledge," the Japanese woman then says. "Asking for this—I think you have no idea what you might get into."
"Doesn’t everyone say this about the industry?" Minji responds with wit and looks at Kazuha's sweaty body in the mirror. "Everyone always shares their doubts, from the moment you start. And now we are here, ready to debut. I know I have talent, but will it be enough?"
"You really want this, Minji?"
"Yes, Unnie, more than anything."
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen. Why do you—"
"I'll give you his number." Kazuha sighs deeply, but nonetheless, her words have Minji in a delighted dance. "I'll tell him that you are good, so be good, be honest to him. I'm doing you a favor here."
"Thank you so much, Unnie!"
"But be careful: he is greedy, he wants more than you can imagine, so be ready to give him everything. And also—" 
Kazuha pinches Minji's chin, tilts it towards her piercing eyes and whispers in the most kind yet threatening voice: 
"Never try to get between him and me."
"Oh my—your concept, these plans. They are fucking terrible. It's going to take a lot to salvage this, even you seem to know that, Minji." There is no need for you to hold back. If you think a plan is bad, you better tell someone before they fail. You’ve seen your fair share of bad plans, but not by HYBE and not to this extreme.
"I-I know. I tried to tell them, but the managers just shut me down.” Minji puts her arms back on her thighs. They were just dramatically cast into the air to get her point across, but the young girl saw your unimpressed gaze and quickly got professional again. “They are running us straight into a brick wall."
"I've seen many examples like this. A lot of companies think they can do no wrong, especially when a lot of time has passed since their latest failure." 
You give Minji her tablet back and rest your chin on one hand, the other tapping the giant desk before you. You are deep in thought, at least Minji should believe that. Instead you are looking into her eyes, mariana trenches of passion, hopefulness, determination. Minji has a pretty face, leadership qualities, all the skills of a superstar but most importantly, she has some thick lips that will be perfect for cock sucking. 
Okay, you are getting ahead of yourselves. The other big thing she has is the willingness to trade everything for her dream, for hope, maybe for fame too. She will give her dignity for glory—and you will make her do it right fucking now.
"This is a difficult case," you say slowly, watching her expression shift a bit, not yet gloomy but getting there. "Luckily, I and HYBE still have the time and resources to make your debut a success. People will talk about it for a long time. I can even guarantee you a music show win from the get go."
"Really? Oh my God, thank you so much, sir. You are way too kind." Minji jumps from her seat and takes a deep, formal bow. "I hope I can lay all of this in your hand?"
"You sure can, Minji, but you know this comes with a price, a hefty one at that. This cannot be solved with two phone calls and some convincing. Hell, I barely have any time." You stand up from your chair and look at the young woman, upper body still tilted but her huge eyes fixed on you, now you’re in front of her. You still dwarf her and she only now knows that she is completely outmatched and will pay up.
"I-I will give you everything, as soon as I can," she stutters. "I only need some time and, and—"
"But I need it now, Minji. Right fucking now.
"Get on your knees."
"Sir?" Minji asks, shocked. "On my knees? Do-do you want me to beg?" 
You snort. “I thought you were smarter. What did Zuha tell you exactly?” 
“H-how did you know—?”
“Minji, what you're asking for requires a complete 180. Your entire concept will have to be changed. From what I’ve heard, you need some new songs too. I have someone in mind who can spearhead your group but she's a wildcard, batshit insane really, but the right kind of crazy needed for something like this. But all of this will take a lot of fucking effort, time and money. And I need you to prove your worth, now."
Push down on Minji's shoulders until she winces and sinks to the floor. Black tiles, hard, cold and somewhat reflective. You know that for a moment all of them hesitate when seeing the rough outline of their head mirrored back to them. Are they really going to do it? Is this what they have to sell? Is it worth it? 
Those that stayed are now superstars and because Minji somehow knew about it and had the guts to look for you, there is not a single doubt in you that she will devote herself to you.
"I can make your dreams come true," you proclaim calmly, yet your words put Minji under unbearable pressure. "Fame, money, success are all guaranteed, out of question, beyond that everything is possible. When you just stay there, on your knees and open your pretty mouth—"
A zip and your semi-hard cock is released, to the absolute shock of Minji, whose mental image of her face is replaced by the first phallus she has ever seen before her eyes. 
"—I'll fulfill your desires."
Minji looks up at you and gulps. She thought the auditions and training evaluations were the final tests respectively, but now her entire career comes down to this one huge cock right in front of her. She curses the producers, the managers, those idiots at Ador—their mistakes have to be redeemed by her sucking dick and lowering to the level of a desperate whore.
Minji has no option. Idols are born from hardship and this is just another step, she believes. So her lips part a little, and when she locks eyes with you, they part a lot more. With a satisfied groan, you shove your cock deep into her throat.
"From now on, you'll call me Master. Later will be Daddy, but not until you've proven worthy. Your next few weeks will be rough, new people, new songs, new choreos." The first tears form in Minji's gorgeous eyes as gags bounce through your office. "I don't care how tired or sweaty you are, when I call you, you come to me right after practice, no excuses. You will obey every fucking wish, especially because I have so much work with you."
You drag your balls over her chin, let your cock rest at the top of her mouth and open it wide. Minji is clumsy with her teeth and with the way she tries to dodge your thrust, be it intentionally or out of fear. This is of course vastly inferior compared to a blowjob from all those second and third gen stars you've made big after giving them your big cock.
The only redeeming, already great quality, are her lips. Natural, not a talent or skill. She'd be a lot better just not moving, not thinking, a fleshlight, but how should such a young woman know?
"I assume you're smart enough to understand all this," you tell her expectantly and pull out. Minji leans forward and coughs up her saliva on your floor. You grab her hair and pull it back, get ready to spit at her, but she has wit.
"Ye-yes, Master. Excuse my incompetence, I—you're so big."
"No crying? No regrets? Well, that's more impressive than your blowjob skills. How about you clean up your incompetence?"
You take a step back and pull her face down, down by the hair, onto the tiles where her spurts of saliva lay. Minji hisses out in pain, you know she stares down angrily, shocked at how rude you are to her. She grits her teeth—
"Yes, Master, sorry, Master."
—and begins to lick the floor, slowly and only with the tip of her small tongue.
You are mildly impressed that she adjusted to her situation rather quickly. It is the sign of a prodigy in bloom. 
"I am curious, baby girl. I was informed you didn't really set out to become an idol. So why put yourself through all of this?" You muse and question her. Minji's eyes widened a little, finally shifting from their bristling anger. "Oh, I know everything about you, Kim Minji. It is my job to know and then some. So tell me: what is your ambition? What is your desire?"
"Who doesn't dream of being famous?" Minji says, determination in her eyes which she has pointed at you like sharp, pointy arrows. "I want to be a star, the idol that all my classmates, parents, grown-ups have never seen in me. I want to show them how wrong they were."
"Too bad that even after joining the great and successful HYBE, you are about to be their first blunder," you taunt her and slap her forehead with your cock. "Good thing you're ready to suck cock for some adjustments of their mistakes."
Minji puckers her lips and a bit carelessly gets your cock back onto them, spreading small licks on your cockhead. "This is nothing, I know hardship."
"Oh, 
"You call this nothing?"
You tsk and slap her face with your cock.
"You know hardship? Do tell, Minji..." You grip her head and begin to plunge into her mouth. "Hardship? We haven't even started yet. I'm not even at full size, stupid girl!" 
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You see her eyes widening as tears begin to form with your rough treatment. Thinking back to Minji's words, you read her well. People doubted her—you could too. She wasn't so different from the others you've trained. All they needed was education to rely on you, devotion to you and love for you and only you.
"Make sure to keep your fucking teeth off of it," you growl while your fingers search for new ways to pull at her hair, to push her away and then slam her back down on your cock which is finally hardening at the arousal her fearful face brings. The inside of Minji's mouth grows wetter, sloppier, warmer, until suddenly—
The annoyance of her teeth returns and it stings. To start with blowjobs has both been a disaster for your pleasure but intense fuel to introduce Minji to the harsh reality that is you; you and the success that you bring. Everything she has ever wanted, you can bring her, and so she fights trough the tears and accepts that you press her flat on the floor and fuck down into her mouth like it's a pussy.
"Open wide, open wide," you repeatedly command, a hand on Minji's jaw to help her make this command come true. "You useless slut, don't waste your lips on such pathetic blowjobs. Fucking hell, when I'm done with you, you better deepthroat like a mid porn star.
"Fucking waste of my time, you stupid stupid girl. This is the standard HYBE is accepting now? Fuck, maybe we can't even blame the company for your group's future failure—it will all just be on you. If you don't fucking step it up, this is the last time you will ever contact me." 
Gaze still intensely focused on her, you pull out your cell phone and unlock it. You don’t really use it for much, except for phone calls, but this alone makes this device insanely valuable. You however don’t need to make a phone call now. You only need to show Minji one thing: your contact list.
She can see you scrolling past the names of tons of people, all in the industry. Well known producers, managers, executives, staff members, but most importantly, all highlighted by a colorful array of yellow, orange, red and pink: 
The full names of hundreds of female idols. Minji scans through the list, recognizing one Unnie after the other, from nugu second gen groups to absolute super stars.
You pull out of Minji's mouth, give her time to cough up all leftover spit and wipe her tears away. Ultimately, you help her up from the cold hard floor, the only thing still laying on the floor is her pride.
"Do you get it now?" you ask and look at her, eyebrows raised with the highest of expectations.
"Yes, Master."
"Then you know what you have to do."
"De-deepthroat like a p-porn star."
"Can you do that?"
Minji hesitates, something you cannot stand for the love of everything. You grab her hips and throw her on your desk, spin her until her head is hanging off of the table. With no further warning, because she does not deserve those anymore, you press your cock on her lips and fill more than her mouth. Minji's throat starts to visibly bulge from the massive width of your cock. 
Of course she is gagging, kicking her feet but that isn't even a flight response. There is no need for you to pin her down. She wants to stay, wants to become a good slut, a stupid girl that can suck your entire cock. Sadly, her newfound eagerness isn't rewarded with success. She needs training and stretching and so you stretch Minji's throat with lazy thrust and train her nose to accept your balls on them.
"You're so silly, but finally, we have some effort, Minji," you growl and reach into the top of her shirt. "We can work from here."
You fondle her breasts, run your hands down her soft stomach. 
"Good, I can definitely work with this. You remind me of—" 
But you pause, not wanting to divulge any advantages for her to pick up on. She looks like an absolute fuck doll as her head continues hang off the table. Even upside down, it was pretty when stuffed with your cock, your balls now touching her lips with each plunge. 
"Minji, it's not enough to deepthroat like a porn star. You'll learn to deepthroat like one of my perfect sluts, whores. Porn star is a start, but it will soon be an insult to you.”
She had no idea that her consideration as a future perfect whore meant you already took a liking to her. As of now, all she knew—no, all she could think of—was your cock and that she needed to keep her teeth off of it. It needed to fuck her throat if she wanted any chance at a great career. 
And so Minji takes it, acts like a whore who willingly gets gag induced drool over her face, then fat, filled balls on her nose and accepts the greedy hands all over her midriff. Minji always thought that she needs this tight, perfect form for the approvement of the public—now it's you who decides if her body is acceptable and ripe for a fucking. 
Your seal of approval is the frantic way you tear open her shirt, then her bra and start to knead her breasts, while her tongue movements become actually enjoyable. You thrust harder, making Minji's face pale as she struggles to get air. She looks gorgeous like that, so you slap her tummy and before the choking is too hard, you back off and pull your pants up.
"That's it for today," you say as Minji still gasps for air. "From now on, you'll be here everyday after practice."
Short silence, disbelief in her eyes. "H-huh—yes, Master."
"The door will be open. Walk in and lay down on the table, just like this. You will wait until I return or have time for you. It doesn't matter what happens, you will lay there until I am finished with you."
"Yes, Master."
"A lot will change." You rub sweat and spit off her temple with a gentle hand and look at her glassy eyes. "You might not get any sleep at all. Now you will learn true adversity.
"Okay, fuck it. You don't deserve this, but I don't care."
Pull your pants back down and lower your balls onto Minji's mouth. This time, there is no hesitation, and she opens her fuckable lips wide. Her tongue starts to twirl around your sac while you begin to jerk yourself off. When Minji finally starts to suck, you feel a satisfying conclusion to this messy meeting arriving. But—
"Why would I do it myself? Get your hand here!"
You find one of Minji's hands and start to spit on each finger. Like a waterfall, it runs down until you deem it lubricated enough. Then you put them around your manhood and begin to thrust. It's a lot colder than a pussy, but Minji seems to instinctively know how to tighten the gap, the grip, her hand-pussy suddenly becomes worth cumming in.
Take a final breath and climax, each pump sending long streaks of pearly white on Minji's body. You cover her in seed until one long line, from her navel to her throat, forms and you admire how carefully she worships your balls. Wipe your cockhead clean on her hand and make a mental note to have this soft palm be a useful masturbation aid for another time.
"Who would've thought that you're already in love with my balls?" You almost crack a smile through your stone cold facade. "A good sign that you're already a whore."
"M-Master, I..."
"Shut the fuck up.
"Tomorrow, after practice. No underwear, no questions, no one is allowed to know."
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levitiquee · 6 months
Text
“Daaa-ddy.”
Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.
“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.
Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.
“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”
She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.
Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?
So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.
Like his.
Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.
But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.
And her smile, that came from you.
She was his. Yours. Theirs.
A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.
It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.
And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.
That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.
It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.
It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.
His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.
“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”
“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”
“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”
He only lets out a small hum in response.
"Will I be as strong as you one day?"
"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.
“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”
“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.
Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?
But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.
She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.
“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.
“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”
Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.
“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.
“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.
‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”
Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”
“Yes.”
Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.
Well damn.
Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.
“Levi, I can–” You start.
“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.
It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.
"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.
It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.
“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.
“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.
She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”
Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.
“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.
You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.
Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.
“So.” You said.
“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.
“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"
He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''
"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.
“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”
“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.
“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”
You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.
“I won’t.”
You blinked, turning your expression sadder.
Levi gives up.
“C’mere.” He sighs.
2K notes · View notes
mrsackermannx · 7 months
Text
she misses me | ino takuma
tags: mdni, nsfw drabble, fem reader, phone sex, smut, not pet play but he calls her “puppy,” not beta read, boyfriend!ino!
Nanami groaned into his whisky. He had a feeling that this was a bad idea six months ago. Ino was all bright eyed as he gushed about the pretty girl he’d met at the mall.
But Nanami was weary, and wondered if things would work out, even after Ino told you about his real job.
Ino sighed before he took a large gulp of his beer, “She’s just…worried I’m cheating on her,” he said, delicately.
“Don’t worry. We check out in the morning and then we’ll be back in Tokyo by noon. You told her we were here on a mission, right?”
“Yeah,” he wistfully gazed out to the town they were in. He was missing you, a lot. He’d been out in the countryside with Nanami for five days and had barely had the chance to text you. He hadn’t been away from you for this long before, but he was admittedly nervous by how much it was unsettling him. It was scary.
“I like girls who are a little clingy though, you know? She’s not even overbearing either,” his voice trailed away. “it’s just that I’ve not been able to text her much. So she misses me.”
“I suppose that’s normal then.”
He grinned, “Buut…she misses me!”
“Then, she’ll have to get used to it,” Nanami said gently. “That it won’t be like dating a non-sorcerer.”
“Oh she will, she’s a tough girl. Takes everything life throws at her.”
He hmphed at the thought, all triumphant like he could imagine your face right now. It was always so full of determination, and when you looked at him, affection that ran so deep it brought him to his knees. Nanami couldn’t deny that he was happy to see his junior so smitten, so he promptly changed the subject and they continued their evening.
But it’s when you send a photo of yourself, lying on your front with an adorable pout for the camera, that it casts his mind back to the last time you were together. Not only because you had that same look in your eye, but because you sent a message just afterward that said.
“Your little puppy misses you.”
His cock throbbed in his jeans.
The last time you were together he’d used those same exact words…
You had both been both so tired it was laughable, but still you clung to each other in the dark comfort of his bedroom.
His arms supported his head, enough that he could lean up with minimal effort to meet your lips. He whistled and watched with his eyes half-lidded, as you eagerly tugged down your panties and then his waistband. You sank yourself down onto him until your bodies pressed together, kissing all over his throat.
He groaned at the sight of you, “Dirty girl with dirty thoughts, huh? Here I thought you were too tired to fuck.”
You laughed into his neck, lifting your hips up and down. “Changed my mind.”
You were already so breathless, your pants sending shivers down his spine. So his hands shifted to your ass where he suddenly halted your movements by sinking his hands into your soft skin.
By the grip, he fucked you on his cock with minimal effort, using his hands to control your hips as he rutted his own into yours. “Fuck.”
He was making you moan so loudly you had to cover your mouth.
“You’re like a needy little puppy. So, fucking, precious. You need me, huh?”
“Yes, Takuma! You feel so good.”
He moaned between each thrust, drilling up into you until your noises synced together. “I love it when you’re like this,” he groaned. “I’ll give you everything.”
His heart raced as he carefully slipped into his hotel room, Nanami was downstairs luckily, still drinking, so he could be as loud as he wanted.
He yanked down his pants, and took his cock into his hand. He gave it a few careful pumps before he took out his cock and took to FaceTiming you.
Heat rushed through your body when you were met with the sight of his large hand wrapped around the fat shaft of his dick. “Hey cutie,” he hummed, groaning as he squeezed his tip and pre oozed out.
“Is this what you wanted to see from me, huh? That you got me all worked up on the job.”
You hummed a shy hello, pointing the camera between your legs to where you had the dildo he’d bought you slick and lodged inside. “Sort of.”
His voice was strained and raspy as it pulled through the speaker of your phone, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to ask. You’re feeling needy, huh?”
“I know you liked it when I send videos but…” You rubbed on your clit and moaned, your fingers visibly slick as you pulled them away and started to thrust in the toy. “Had to show you.”
He laughed, smug and relaxed before he joined you, thumbing the tip of his dick. He shuddered from the pleasure, imagining your mouth. “So? How was the exam, pretty girl? Did you do your best?“
Ino was never shy with his moans, not ever. Your eyelids fluttered at the sight and the sounds. Wishing you could be with him right now more than ever.
You whimpered to yourself, syncing your movements with his. “Of course I did. You helped me study after all.”
He lowered his voice, flipping the camera to his face where he pointed at his tongue with a wink. “Gonna eat that pussy as soon as I’m home, cutie. Be ready to drown me in it.”
You moaned, removing the toy to show him all the slick that was dripping from you. “Want you to fuck me, wish you were here,” you groaned. “So wet for you, Takumaa—“
“Imagine I am, baby. Put that deeper,” he cooed, jacking himself off tortuously slowly. “Imagine I’m inside.”
You flipped your camera to your face, pouting, “Aren’t you gonna finish with me?”
“Wouldn’t you rather I save my load for that sweet little pussy baby? Just you wait until I’m home.”
You rolled your eyes, but your smirk was full of mischief. “Is that right mister sorcerer?”
He grinned at the nickname, it wasn’t as if it was still as filled with disbelief. If anything it made him hard, your worlds were so separate but he didn’t care at all. He worshipped you.
“Oh yeah, I’m wrecking you as soon as I get home baby. I can’t just accept this slutty behaviour of yours, can I?”
1K notes · View notes
soamericn · 2 months
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𝜗𝜚 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ he said, "baby, " that's what he called me, "i love you" every single word you say makes me feel some type of way, it's the thought of you that slightly scares me but it takes my breath away, forget what I was gonna say
𝜗𝜚… summary , ( f!y/n x oscar piastri ) oscar’s plans for a date for him and his girlfriend after feeling bad for being busy all week, but ignoring how tired he’d been turns out to not be the best idea.
𝜗𝜚… faceclaim , up to your imagination <3
𝜗𝜚… triggers , swearing , anxiety
𝜗𝜚… authors note , I was really proud of this!!! hope you like it it had a plot and I sorta lost it while writing it but thats okay, my next fic is gonna be an smau I have an idea planned out
🐰ྀི₊˚⊹ masterlist
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It’d been a busy week for Oscar, almost the start of the season and he’d missed the feeling of winter break already. He loved his career, most didn’t get to say that but there was a sort of weight off his shoulders when the last race ended, a certain peace in the air that put him at ease. 
Currently, the ease had subsided and the stress was catching once again in his throat, and his schedule had started to fill up. He knew he had to make time this year not just for himself, he’d recently gotten a girlfriend right before the end of the race last season. 
She’s everything he’s ever wanted, he’s never met someone who’s understood him so much until he met her. Oscar felt a nervousness in his heart, what if he couldn’t make time for her? What if she’d validly lose interest with him not around? 
He’d been reassured plenty of times by her, even without sharing his thoughts. She just knew. God, Oscar couldn’t even put into words how perfect she’d been for him. 
Towards the end of his week, they’d planned to go on a date. Oscar had felt guilty after not properly going out in a while, not that she minded they were both homebodies anyway. 
Setting the reservation for the restaurant days in advance that he’d known she liked was easy, picking out the right outfit a few hours before he had to pick her up was not. 
This all felt silly to him. Never in his life had he’d cared so much about what he wore. Christ, he wore the same Mclaren polo in the paddock practically every race weekend. 
Scouring his limited closet for the right shirt and pants proved harder than he thought. He’d tried a nice t-shirt and jeans, too casual. Maybe not a tux either, too fancy. He’d finally settled on a white button up with the top three buttons unbuttoned, and a pair of khaki shorts. And feeling somewhat satisfied with his choice he put on some cologne, and ran a hand through his hair. 
This might as well have been a first date the way the Aussie was stressing. Tapping a finger on the steering wheel as he drove, running many hands through his hair. Both tell-tales of his nervousness.
Tall glass doors filled his vision as he reached her apartment building. Tapping twelve on the elevator and tapping his foot as he waited. The silence of the confined space was so loud, nerves rising in his chest. Oscar felt stupid. He had no need to be this nervous. No need at all. She was just so her, so perfect and the exact image of someone he’d imagined his life with. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve her. 
Once the elevator doors had opened with a small beep, he’d walked out and the hallway seemed hauntingly long with her door at the end of it. This was all muscle memory to him, he could’ve come here with his eyes closed if he wanted, though he might’ve gotten some weird looks and a potential car accident.
He’d rung her doorbell, folding his hands neatly and awkwardly behind his back as she waited. “Coming!” A soft voice shouted on the other side of the door. Oscar smiled to himself. 
For the first time since he started getting ready he’d checked his phone, and sighed. He had been almost an hour early then when he said he’d be picking her up. Now suddenly the feeling of him intruding on her crowded his thoughts. 
They faded away the minute she opened the door and her eyes lit up. Y/n’s hair had been curled but was obviously not styled yet, she wore pajama shorts and a t-shirt and looked halfway done with her make-up. 
“I’m early, I think,” His nose scrunched as he spoke. 
She shook her head, lips in a small friendly pout. And gestured for him to walk inside. Once he’d taken a step closer into the apartment she’d pulled him into a hug, standing on her tippy-toes and her arms around his neck. “I missed you.” The girl whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.
Oscar’s arms fit snugly around her waist pulling her close, his face buried in her neck smelling the floral scent of her body wash. 
He hadn’t realized how tired this week had truly made him till he’d fallen into her touch. The coziness of her presence made him notice how much he actually needed this, how much he’d been needing her.
Pulling away from his tight grasp she looked up at him in a way that made him wanna melt into her all over again. Y/n’s hand slowly moved up from his neck tracing the light stubble along his chin before holding his face in her hand, he swore she would be the death of him. 
“You look handsome.” She commented with a hint of surprise in her voice and a furrow of her eye brow as she scanned his outfit. 
A small pink rose to his cheeks but a sarcastic comment rose in his throat, “do I usually not?” 
Her head shook, “No you do, even in the same Mclaren polo and unbrushed hair.” 
Oscar’s head looked down at the floor slightly embarrassed with a huge grin spread across his face. Using her hand once again she tilted his head to look at her, their eyes meeting. “I gotta finish getting ready but the tv’s on in the living room.” She said, placing a quick peck on his lips before walking off to the bathroom, having no idea the effect she had on him.
He paused standing there in the hallway, he wasn’t sure what it was about her that had such an impact on him. It might’ve been her bubbliness, how she radiated positivity, or just the fact she knew him, like truly knew him.
Every time she’d walked away from him, Oscar missed her presence like he hadn’t seen her in years. He never imagined himself being clingy but it was like with her he couldn’t stay away. Y/n had been his second home. 
The brunette boy took a seat on the couch sinking into it, the t.v. played some random sitcom the volume low. The exhaustion he’d been pushing back for the whole week had broken through a dam and flooded back into him the moment he took a seat. It didn’t help that her home was the exact definition of cozy. A candle burned filling the apartment with the smell of fall, she’d refused to use the overhead lighting opting for smaller lamps and other lights.
Oscar could’ve slept three days here if he was allowed, preferably with her near him. Subconsciously he rested his head on a nearby pillow at the end of the couch lifting his legs up (them partially going off the couch). And his eyes seemed to drift closed.
The scent of cinnamon filled his nose as his eyes fluttered open. He made a confused groaning noise stretching his back and arms out because despite the couch being fairly comfortable it wasn’t exactly made for his height. He sat up taking off a blanket that was placed across him that he didn’t remember putting on.
It’d taken him a moment but not long to remember where he was but more importantly what plans they had. Panic seeped through him and he jumped up looking to the bathroom, the door was now opened and the light had been turned off. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath, guilt filling his pores. 
Oscar ended up in the kitchen where Y/n sat on the counter, legs criss-crossed watching something on her laptop. She’d put her hair up and had been in her pajamas like she was before her make-up removed as well. Looking at the time on the stove, Oscar cursed himself he’d slept right through their reservation. 
God, he wished hadn’t ignored how drained he was like he did. Now she’d noticed him and paused what she was watching looking at him with a soft smile. The smile hadn’t warmed his heart like previously, he couldn’t put into words how horrible he’d felt. 
Taking steps closer to her, ending up standing in front of where she was sitting, her legs uncrossing and he stood in between them. “I’m so so sorry, I feel horrible right now.” He admitted, not wanting to meet her eyes. 
“It’s okay, we all need breaks sometimes, you’ve been busy.” He didn’t deserve her. Oddly he felt like her yelling at him would’ve been better than this. She’d been such an angel and he broke the one promise he’d made all week. 
Oscar shook his head, “Sweetheart, It’s not okay I told you we’d do something special and I fucked it.” He looked at the granite next to her leg not wanting to meet her eyes still. 
A soft light hand placed itself on his chin and pushed him to face her. Her eyes were comforting like a warm blanket of kindness. “You did, but it's okay.”
He had so many apologies in his throat so many words he could say but only the simplest ones came out. “I’m so sorry again-” He was suddenly distracted by the sudden scent of cinnamon once again. “What are you making?” 
“Well right now dessert but I need help with dinner.” She admitted and he wrapped his arms around her torso and her around his neck once again except he was the one looking up at her. 
Oscar furrowed an eyebrow. “Is that not the wrong order?” 
“Oh shut it, you’re in no place to make jabs right now.” She joked with a fake roll of her eyes.
“How about I make dinner for you?” He offered lightly running his hands up and down her back. 
Her facial expression showed her contemplating it. “Do I trust your cooking?” 
Oscar was now the one to roll his eyes. “Do I trust yours?” He commented. 
Y/n lightly hit his shoulder gasping. “You’re very rude, Oscar, don’t you know that?” 
“Oh am I?” His hands moved from her back to her waist once more.
“Mhm.” 
He carried her off the counter as she wrapped her legs around his torso and she started laughing, a sound Oscar wished he could hear on repeat forever. His hand resting on her butt holding her up. He placed a light kiss on her lips, more intimate than the quick peck from earlier. He pulled away but their faces were still inches apart. 
“So can I make you dinner?” He asked again in a whisper. 
Her eyes tilted up dramatically thinking about it, “Only because I don't feel like it.”
She placed another quick peck on his lips and Oscar pulled her back in for a deeper one, and he swore no matter how long they knew each other he’d never get over this feeling.
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𝜗𝜚… tags , @whitcferrari @cedarbcws @c-losur3
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ctrlchar · 4 months
Note
Could you do jake’s reaction to you getting nipple piercing please? x (can be whatever you want <3)
jakexgf getting nipples pierced
a/n:thank you for the request! I decided to add a little smut at the end as well 🤭
jake had been out and about with his friends leaving you in the house to your own devices. that being said an idea popped up into your head.
you’d always wanted to get your nipples pierced,knowing how good jake looked with his. that being said you text jake asking him when he’ll be home to which he replied
jakey<3:i should be getting back within the next hour or so what’s up?
you:oh nothing just wondering😊
jakey<3:right….🤨
jakey<3:i’ll see u when i get home babe
after your exchange you go into your closet finding a tight fitting shirt that shows your nipples poking through the thin fabric.
you change into some of jake’s sweatpants before you get into your car and drive to the nearest piercing shop.
you drive about five minutes until you reach your destination. you get out the car grabbing your purse before entering the shop
you walked up the the piercer at the front desk telling her you wanted to get both of your nipples pierced.
after you had paid you laid down on the table as she stuck the needle through your perky nipple and then through the other.
the pain wasn’t as bad as you had expected,the piercer then put on a silver barbell before getting up and walking towards the front desk where you paid and tipped her.
you grabbed your belongings before heading out to your car to show jake your freshly pierced nipples
hoping he wasn’t around his friends,you sent him a photo of you in your almost skin tight shirt,two barbells seen through the material
you could almost hear the shock through the screen as jake texts you back in an instant
you: *one attachment*
jakey<3:are you shitting me rn
jakey<3:did a guy do it?
jakey<3:i’ll beat his ass
jakey<3:send me another one
you:no baby it was a girl
you: same one i’ve went to for all my piercings
you:and give me one minute i’ll send you another
you laugh at his reaction through the screen,his attitude going from pissed to wanting you to send him another photo
you pull out of the parking lot and into an empty one. you carefully pull up your shirt,trying to not irritate the fresh piercing
you take a photo of your bare breasts and send them to jake
seconds later your phone buzzes and it shows jake calling you.
you quickly pick up the phone and put him on speaker before setting the phone down on the dash
you can hear other cars in the background therefore assuming he’s already in his car headed back home
“i’m so hard right now” he says making you giggle at his bluntness
“are you headed home?” you question as you fix your shirt back over your tits. judging by the acceleration of the gas you tell him “that’s not you’re car is it? you sound like one of those assholes who rev their engine up all the time ” you joke eliciting a chuckle from jake
“what can i say babe,it’s not my fault your tits look that good over the phone,can’t even imagine now good they’ll look in person” he says his hand on the wheel the other attempting to fix the tent in his jeans by adjusting his pants
you pull out the empty driveway deciding to head home yourself so you don’t make jake wait too long “yeah well remember you cant touch them yet we have to wait for them to heal” to which he groans “i know i know, I get it…i can still fuck em’ though right?” he pleas as he turns onto his street
“hmm” you say pretending to think as you drive “i’ll consider it”
jake lets out a fake sigh before informing you he’s almost home,with you doing the same. you tell him bye and that you’ll see him in a minute.
you pull into the driveway,your car right behind his. you park the car grabbing your stuff before heading into the house to be greeted by jake sitting on the couch the large erection still in his pants despite him trying to hide it
he shoots up from the couch,begging you like a child “lemme see lemme see” he begs staring at the metal through the fabric
“geez jake nice to see you too” you say lifting up your shirt “yeah yeah yeah” he mumbles completely enthralled with your breasts. he begins to grope them avoiding your nipple not wanting to cause you any discomfort
“fuck” he mumbles under his breath “these are gonna be the hardest couple months of my life”
“can i fuck em’ please” he begs his voice needier then before.
“fine” you say “can we at least get to the bed first?” to which he nods eagerly,grabbing your hand and guiding you to your bedroom.
he laid you on the bed as he quickly made use of his hands by taking off his jeans,leaving him in his shirt and boxers. he got onto your lap before taking his hard cock out of his boxers.
you held your tits closer together as he slid right in between them. you made sure you could see the piercing in between your fingers. which was evident to jake as he kept alternating his eyes from the piercing to you back to the piercing
“your so hot mama” he moans out as he fucks in between your tits. he places on of his hands on the back of your head for support as he continues his movements
you see the tip of his cock disappearing between them with each thrust of his hips,especially now,his thrusts getting sloppier as he feels close
“gonna cum” he groans out as he begins to slightly grip your hair eliciting a soft moan from you. you could practically feel his cock twitching from between your tits
and just like that he came,all over your chest right above your tits,some of it going in between them as he fucked himself through his orgasm which was the absolute hottest thing to him.
he then pulled himself up and back into his boxers. he gathered up some of his cum onto his finger before putting it up to your mouth to which you open. you begin to lick a stripe up his fingers,slowly sucking on them in the process.
he slides off your sweatpants,which were actually his, and with his free hand he takes his other out of your mouth and slowly slides it into you
“gonna make you feel good now okay baby?”
1K notes · View notes
azrielbrainrot · 4 months
Text
Maybe We Could Be The Start of Something
Pairing: Band member!Azriel x College Student!Reader
Description: Your friends invite you to a bar and you could never imagine who you'd meet there.
Word Count: 3294
Warnings: none
Notes: I had this idea after seeing this art and couldn't stop thinking about it. I actually had a lot of ideas for little stories in this universe but it makes sense to start with how they met. Also I know that's a terrible band name but I never had to name a band before okay. I didn't proofread this because I think I'd delete the whole thing if I did, sorry. This is really self-indulgent but I hope you like it!
Band AU masterlist
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You could only blame yourself for agreeing to meet Viviane. Your skull felt like it was going to split open with this headache that has lasted all week. The only thing you wanted to do right now was try to sleep it off under your warm blankets, but instead you willingly came to a bar knowing it was just going to make it worse.
She's been telling you about this place and the bands that perform here occasionally for ages. Apparently it's a real hotspot for up and coming musicians ever since two bands made it big after starting out here. You've been turning her down for weeks so you had promised her that you'd finally come this friday, of course when you agreed you couldn't have known your week was going to be absolute shit. Though most of your days have been shit lately. That might be the actual reason Viv has been so insistent about you going out with her, she knew your mental health was ready to take a vacation and was just being a good friend.
This really hadn't been a good day to come though. Aside from your headache, your last class had also run late, making you lose your bus and barely have time to drop everything off at home and change to come meet your friends. As a little treat you also couldn't find your nice black skirt so you had to just wear jeans, you definitely needed the extra confidence the pretty skirt provided but the universe didn't seem to care about that.
The bar was already packed by the time you got there, you were almost being pushed around while you were searching for your friends. You look down at your phone to ask them where they are and see a text from Viv asking if you're still coming. Reading it makes you stop in your tracks. You can't really blame her for thinking you wouldn't show up since you've been declining every invitation lately, but seeing that she thought you wouldn't even give her a heads up hurt a little. You knew you had been distant lately but you were trying your best to deal with life and you never meant to do it at the expense of your friendships.
You're pushed out of your thoughts when someone taps your shoulder gently, making you look back at them. Turning your head you were faced with a muscular chest, slowly looking up a tattooed neck to meet beautiful hazel eyes staring back at yours.
“I'm sorry to bother you,” he says, breaking eye contact for a second before continuing, “but I think you dropped this.” He raises his hand so you can see him holding your keys. Your house keys, the ones you would undoubtedly only notice were missing when you went back home and tried to open the door. That would have been the cherry on the cake after this whole day. Maybe you should see a witch to make sure it's not actually a curse, no one should experience this much bad luck.
“Thank you so much,” you almost yell as you grab them from his hand in excitement. He just saved you from having no place to sleep tonight. You notice him tensing up when your fingers brush against his hand and realize you might have made him uncomfortable. “I'm sorry,” you take a tiny step back in the crowded bar, “I would have been locked out of my apartment if you hadn't seen that. Thank you.”
“You're welcome.” he said, giving you a nod and something close to a smile, before going on his way. You curse yourself again for acting so awkwardly. You hope you didn't make him feel uncomfortable, he was nice in picking up your keys and giving them back to you. He was also really cute which only made it more of a shame that you met like this. At least you didn't lose your keys, that would have seriously sucked.
Making your way to the table Viviane told you they would be at, you notice almost everyone is here. She was leaning against her boyfriend, Kallias, while they listened to whatever story Alba was telling them about. Ezio and Celia were both looking down at their phones and showing each other something while giggling like schoolgirls. As much as you love your friends, you don't know how much socializing you can handle today. You already fucked up what could have been a very simple interaction. Then again, with all of them here you know Viv won't try to ask you about Eleanor so at least you can keep avoiding hard topics. Viv greets you with a grin as soon as she sees you, everyone following right after.
“Hey, thought you weren't coming after all.” Yeah, you almost forgot about that. You smile anyway, knowing she didn't mean to remind you of how much of a bad friend you've been lately.
“Sorry, guys,” you sit down in the empty chair next to Alba before continuing, “Class ran late and then I lost my bus.”
“Oh. Bad luck.” You have no idea, Kallias. Conversation picked back up after that and you let them do most of the talking, taking a back seat and just watching them. You're glad that they either noticed you weren't in a talking mood or just didn't realize you were mostly quiet anyway.
You have no new stories to tell them since you've barely been functioning outside of school and talking about your feelings is definitely a resounding no, especially at a bar, so you just let them keep up with their conversations and just nod along every once in a while.
Eventually, the DJ introduces the band playing tonight. The Night Court. Judging by the screams and the way everyone moves closer to watch, they're very popular around here and you understand part of the reason for said popularity as soon as you see them step up on stage.
“Oh, they're really good!” Viviane's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “The guitarist is Mor's cousin. You remember her, right?” You nod. Of course you do. The blonde with sparkly eyeshadow and red lips leaves a big impression, forgetting Morrigan is probably impossible.
You study the guitarist as he introduces himself and the band. He's extremely handsome, the type of handsome that would make you think he can't be human, like some kind of fairy or vampire. You can tell he's aware of this fact with every honey dipped word that comes out of his mouth, literally flirting with the whole crowd. Despite not having many physical similarities with Mor, that allure he exudes definitely matches with hers.
The drummer was already sitting in place, looking eager to play. It takes you a second to notice he was in fact already sitting down as he's probably one of the tallest men you've ever seen in real life. But, with the messy shoulder length hair and big boyish grin on his face, he doesn't look scary at all.
As your eyes travel to the bassist, half hidden in the shadows, you wonder why you didn't recognize him immediately. It was the same guy that helped you before. You had thought he was beautiful before but, considering the situation, you didn't have much time to linger on that fact. However now that he was standing on stage, you could fully appreciate it. He was tall - this much you knew since you were at head level with his chest - and by the way his arms strained against his black t-shirt as he picked up his bass, you could tell he was fit too. He was looking down at the bass in his hands, making the few lights that caught him cast an ethereal glow on his face and on his onyx hair. This man looks like he stepped right down heaven's gates.
They start playing what you think is an original song but can't be sure since you were too distracted checking their bassist out to hear what Mor's cousin had said. He does have a really good singing voice but as your mystery angel starts singing, you can't help but feel bewitched back to watching him.
You barely take your eyes off him during the whole performance but they're all undeniably good. It's easy to understand why this bar is so popular if this is the level of talent their bands have. You can definitely imagine them making it big. They all seem very comfortable and content on stage and the crowd can't get enough of them.
You're so distracted by them that you don't even notice your head pounding anymore, or how fast time flies because, before you know it, they're saying their goodbyes to the crowd and leaving the stage.
Conversation starts back up after that, everyone is gushing about how talented and hot they are and you find yourself easily agreeing with their sentiments. But, with no distraction and the dj back playing songs you've heard a thousand times and the pressure of keeping conversation going, your headache comes back. You wait out just a little longer until you think it's an acceptable time to leave without worrying everyone too much.
“I'm sorry guys but I think I'm going to head home.” You finish the last of your drink even though it's mostly melted ice by that point and start putting your jacket on.
“Already?” You're not surprised Alba is the first to speak up. You'll never understand how this girl has so much energy, you had the same morning class as her but she's still as energetic as she was at lunchtime.
“It's still kind of early,” Viviane looks up at you with her icy eyes and you can recognize the concern in them immediately.
“It was just a busy week,” you explain with a smile on your face, hoping no one reads too much into it even though you all know that's not all. “I think I need to go sleep it off.”
“Are you going by yourself though?” Out of everyone at the table, Enzo is the worst one at hiding his emotions. You can see as clear as day that he's worried about you.
“I'll get an uber. Don't worry.” You gesture to your phone hoping they'll drop it.
“I can wait with you outside.” Kallias offers immediately, ever the responsible one. You really wanted to stay alone right now though.
“You don't have to.” You put your bag over your shoulder to add some finality to your words. “It's cold and there's going to be enough cars out at this hour, I won't be waiting for long.” It looks like he's about to say more but Viv puts a hand over his arm subtly, making him shut up. The bass of the music keeps hammering at your head so you don't linger and just say your goodbyes, waving at everyone with what you hope is a seemingly content smile, before leaving.
As soon as you step outside the pressure you feel starts slowing down. The front of the bar is still full of people so you walk a bit more to the little parking lot on this street. The air is cold but it feels amazing after being in the stuffed bar and your thoughts don't seem so overbearing when you don't have to try to act happy with your friends.
You love them to death but everything about how tonight went just proves that they've been talking about you behind your back. You know this is just them being good friends. You've been acting so differently in these last few months that even one of your professors noticed so it's only natural that they also did, but knowing everyone can tell only makes it worse.
You didn't want to make anyone worry about you. Life has just been going for your throat lately, minor inconveniences keep popping up and piling on top of what was already a pretty shitty situation. But you know once the semester ends, you'll get the chance to finally breathe and solve some of the problems you've been ignoring. And then things will hopefully get better. It just really sucks that your friendships and even school life has been affected by this.
Sitting down on top of the small wall that wrapped around the parking lot, you look up at the sky, willing your mind to let you rest for a bit. Watching the stars twinkling and your breath turn into white clouds of smoke because of the cold. You should probably get that uber and go home before any of your friends find you here, but your body doesn't want to move for some reason.
You feel someone approach you and look back down to meet familiar hazel eyes. You both stare at each other for a second longer than what would be normal, not expecting to see each other again.
“We keep running into each other,” you can hear his voice better here. You didn't notice how deep it was in the crowded bar. His singing voice is also deep but a bit softer than this.
“Yeah.” You smile. Seeing him again after how he helped you and then watching him on stage is making you a little giddy despite your somber mood. He seems a bit less unsure after you respond as well.
“Are you here alone?” He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.
“No, I'm just waiting for an uber.” You hope you're not making a bad impression again. He probably hadn't seen you with your friends before either.
“Alright,” he looks over to what you assume is his car and then back to you, “I can wait here with you.”
“You don't have to. It's cold,” you start but he shakes his head before you even finish speaking, “I actually haven't called it yet.” He gives you a look of amusement and it just makes you try to explain yourself faster. “I have a headache. The cold just felt calming. I'll get it now.” Opening the app, you start searching and, just like you expected, there's a car barely 10 minutes away from you. A wave of disappointment washes over you at the thought that you won't get to talk to him for longer but you push it aside quickly, you barely know him.
“A bar probably isn't the best place to be if you have a headache,” he tilts his head slightly in what you're almost sure is concern. He's a little hard to read.
“I know but I already had told my friends I was coming so…” You shrug and change the subject, trying to allow this moment to let you forget about your earlier thoughts. “Didn't turn out too bad. There was this really good band playing today.” You can see a flush take over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and you feel incredibly proud of yourself for being the reason behind it.
“I'm glad you liked it,” he says as he dips his head slightly in thanks. You feel like this might be the best compliment you could have given him.
“You were all really good. I even forgot about my headache while I was watching you play,” you try not to sound too excited and make it weird but you want him to know how good his band is, “Do you perform here a lot?”
“Yeah,” he leans sideways against the wall next to you, “At least twice a month.” You're starting to notice that, although his face doesn't show too much emotion, his eyes are a little more expressive. His band seems to be a topic he likes talking about. You can understand why.
“Isn't that a big deal? I heard this bar is really popular nowadays, there has to be a lot of bands trying to perform here.” The blush seems to be back but it could also be because of the cold you're subjecting him to.
“We always try to do our best but we've been playing here for a long time. That helps too.”
“You know that's not it,” you point to the entrance of the bar, where some people are smoking, “The bar was packed. I don't know if that's how it always is but I'm pretty sure it was mostly people wanting to watch you perform.”
“You've never been here before?” It looks like he's getting a bit embarrassed by the praise so you let him change the subject.
You shake your head. “Need to come more often though. When are you performing again?”
“We don't always have a schedule,” he looks down at your phone in your hands then back up at you, “But I can text you the details.”
“Oh.” He wants your number. The thought makes warmth rush to your cheeks. “Alright.” You unlock your phone and hand it to him. While he's typing his number, you can't help but notice the scars on his hand. They completely cover his hands, the skin completely marred. It looks as if they were burned. You look away from them, not wanting to make him uncomfortable by staring. He hands you your phone back and you see he saved his number under his name.
“Azriel,” you say the name out loud, tasting it in your mouth. He's watching you a little more intensely than before and you have to break eye contact to stop yourself from blushing. You quickly send him a text so he can save your number as well.
“I'll need yours too.” You give him your name and he repeats it, just as you had done. He makes it sound beautiful in his warm timbre and you can't help the flutter in your stomach. “I'll text you as soon as I find out when we're coming here next.”
“Okay.” You lock eyes and don't look away, just enjoying the moment, until you see a car pass by and realize it's yours.
You think you could have stayed there in the cold talking to him all night. You're not sure why but talking to him is effortless, it's like you've been friends for years. It just feels right and you find yourself wishing that he texts you soon with the concert information and anything else he comes up with. You wouldn't need much of an excuse to talk to him.
“That's my ride,” You say as you hop down from the wall. He looks at the car and when his eyes meet yours again you think you can see a hint of disappointment, hopefully at having to cut the moment short. “Thank you for waiting with me,” you smile at him again, “You didn't have to do that.”
“No problem.” He gives you a smile too, the biggest one you've seen on him. “I'll see you next time.”
“Of course.” You'd be an idiot to not want to see him again. You linger for as long as you can, suddenly not feeling like going home at all.
You wave at him again before getting in the car and something beats faster in your chest when he waves back and watches the car speed off down the street, it's almost like your heart is telling you to stay with him. You're not exactly sure what just happened but you hope you don't regret not staying with him for the rest of the night.
You keep thinking about him during the whole car ride and he's the last thing on your mind when you're laying down to sleep. And when he texts you the next day you know you'll have many more opportunities to spend the night talking to him.
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thedevilspearl · 11 months
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➛ the good, the bad and the bratty
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a/n: here it is!!! cowboy!diavolo surprised me because he was voted least out of the top three yet i found myself loving him so much that i couldn’t stop writing and it turned into a whole fic haha check out the other cowboys here!
tags: 2.0k words, cowboy!diavolo x female reader, bondage, spanking, brat taming, breeding kink, mild exhibitionism. minors do not interact!
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diavolo had a busy morning rounding up the sheep that slipped through the fence during the night. he crept out of bed without waking you, leaving you with warm blankets and a kiss to your cheeks as he pulled on his jeans and shirt.
you’re an expert rider, better than him although he won’t admit it — stubborn cowboys never do no matter how sweet they are.
but not waking you up to catch the sheep with him wasn’t due to his pride but rather the fact that you were up all night riding something else entirely.
he had you slamming up and down on his cock for hours, grinding on him until you both passed out. his cock throbs at the memories and he adjusts his crotch in his tight jeans before fastening his belt.
diavolo sighs, wishing he could spend the morning walking the perimeter of the ranch on horseback with you beside him, but you tired yourself out last night. you deserve rest. and on top of that, he can only imagine how sore your pussy must be.
he’d be the devil if he asked you to sit on a saddle before fully recovering.
so at dawn, he ventures onto his land and mounts his horse to chase after the escaped sheep. it takes hours, but once rounded up, he works on fixing the fence and then checking on the cattle.
it isn’t until long after noon when he spots you coming down to the barn.
“hey, sweetie,” you mutter with a kiss to his lips. “why didn’t you wake me?”
you smirk at his eyes widening from your appearance. it’s a hot day so you opted for one of his flannels and a pair of cowboy boots. his shirt is baggy enough to cover you, but the only thing on his mind is whether or not you’re wearing anything under his shirt.
“thought ya needed some rest after last night,” he teases. “you worked so hard.”
“well, you work hard every day looking after the ranch.”
he chuckles lowly and you find yourself warming up at the sound.
“so, what’s the plan for the day?”
diavolo is about to tell you he did most of the work and the only thing you should be doing is resting, but his inconveniently friendly neighbours interrupt him.
“hey!” mammon calls with beelzebub following behind him. “you got hay?”
“what happened to yours?” dia quips.
“found mould in ‘em. can’t use it anymore.”
both cowboys tip their hats in your direction as greeting.
“mornin’, boys.” you beam.
“afternoon,” beel corrects you. “but i assume it’s morning for you.”
they both grin and wink at diavolo, knowing exactly what happened last night given your attire. and diavolo hates them for thinking about you like that.
“why don’t ya head back to the house?” diavolo leans in and suggests. “get something to eat.”
you know he means to say go put on some clothes. or at least stay away from these guys while you’re dressed like that. jealousy rises from his body and you read him easily.
perhaps it’s the exhaustion from last night, or maybe it’s due to the heat, but your brain is frazzled enough to make you want to disobey his request and piss him off. for some reason, making him more jealous sounds like a good idea.
“i already had breakfast.” you say and hop onto a pile of hay, crossing your legs so no one can peek up the little clothing you have on.
dia stares at you starstruck, silenced by your boldness. and the other two cowboys suffocate in the growing tension. beel’s eye’s wander around the room nervously, not landing on anything specific. and mammon lets out a long whistle.
“so….” he clicks his tongue. “the hay?”
“there’s more round back.” diavolo says without tearing his stern eyes from you. you cower under his gaze, knowing you may have gone too far.
when mammon and beel disappear behind the stable, you hop down from your pile of hay. you thought it would be hot to tease him in front of the others but it turned out awkward so you wander back to the house. but diavolo grabs you before you can make it two paces out of the door.
“what?” you ask with feigned innocence.
“you know what.”
“i don’t.”
he scoffs.
“are ya wearing anything under that?” he asks, and your silence is his answer.
he rips open your shirt, his shirt, and buttons go flying in all direction to reveal your naked body. your tits sit freely and your bare pussy was only inches away from being exposed if the shirt was lifted high enough.
and yet, you jumped on that pile of hay without a care in the world, without caring if his neighbours saw what only he is allowed to see. and it angers him in ways it shouldn’t.
“dia!” you push him away, but he doesn’t let go of the shirt and because of its huge size, it slips off your frame too easily.
the cowboy is stunned for a second, but he gulps and tips his hat in your direction, admiring your glowing body in the sunlight.
he was ready to scold you for acting so scantily in front of his friends, but instead of listening to logic, he listens to his cock. despite the hours and hours of fucking you did last night, it aches for more.
and what turns him on to a point of no return is your god damned boldness, not even trying to hide your perky breasts or pretty pussy. your stand before him with confidence he can only admire.
mammon and beel are minutes away from walking in on you wearing nothing but a pair of cowboy boots and diavolo feels inclined to teach you a lesson.
you would dare to be seen naked by anyone other than diavolo?
not on his watch.
your brattiness knows no bounds but you’ve certainly got him in the mood to tame it. to teach you that no one else is allowed to see your pretty, perfect body.
he very rarely uses the lasso he carries on his hip, but all of a sudden he feels inspired to use it.
“c’mere.”
you ignore him, drifting away further without looking back and acknowledging him. if you step outside any further, there’d be no doubt the others would see you.
“don’t ignore me. i told ya to c’mere.”
you turn around with sass, standing with your hand on your hip. “or what?” you follow his hand down to where it grazes against his loop of rope and your heart beats faster, and your pussy throbs.
“don’t make me use this on ya, sweetheart.”
you swallow thickly, feeling your body burn. the thought of him tying you up is provocative, but using his lasso on you?
it’s unexpectedly the sexiest thing you’ve ever imagined.
and he knows it too.
“you like the sound of that?” he smirks and takes big steps towards you. “i’m sick of ya acting like a brat, ‘specially in front of other guys. how about i teach my little cowgirl a lesson, hm?”
you bite your lips and he hovers above you, eyes raking all over your form.
“want me to tie you up and teach you a lesson, baby?”
you nod eagerly but maintain the daring brattiness in your glare.
“i want ya to say it, sweetheart.”
“yes,” you yip, a little too excitedly. “use it on me. tie me up and fuck me good, dia.”
your heart flutters as the corner of his lip twitches upwards, and your pussy clenches as diavolo moves swiftly. he spins you around grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, somehow rough and gentle at the same time. and with his other, he loosens his lasso before looping it around your wrists and pulling.
he then works some skilful magic to have your elbows touching together and the rope lacing around the length of your forearms.
it’s tight enough for you to be unable to fight against it. not that you’d want to.
your bound wrists rest on your lower back and he pulls you back into the barn, slamming the door behind him.
“what a fucking brat i’ve got,” he growls and bends you over on the pile of hay you were previously displaying yourself on. “wants to get fucked like an animal, huh?”
“yes, dia,” you moan. “wanna get fucked so good.”
you wiggle your ass in front of his crotch which earns a harsh slap on it. and then another.
“best be quiet or those assholes are gonna hear ya.”
you moan louder and lewder when he slaps your ass a third time.
“or don’t.”
diavolo wastes no more time in loosening his belt and pulling his cock from his jeans. it throbbed and ached all morning and now he can finally relieve himself by putting you in your place.
he grabs you by the rope, pulling you upright and pressing your ass against him. 
“fucking brat,” he grunts rubbing against you. “was last night not enough, huh? greedy pussy’s got you acting up like a slut.”
you whine loudly, defiant against his words. his large hand lands on your ass again, causing you to yelp and your whole body to jolt from the impact. writhing to free yourself from the rope is a fruitless attempt, but diavolo enjoys the sight of you struggling.
“use your hands.” he orders.
you could ignore him, piss him off even more. but your pussy is so fucking desperate to be filled and battered by his huge cock that your brattiness slowly fades away and you follow his orders quickly.
it’s difficult to move in the position you’re in but with the little freedom your bound hands have, you arch into him and stroke his huge cock. “fuck, dia. you’re so big. want it in me so bad.”
“patience, brat,” he mutters and runs his hands up and down your body, squeezing your tits with one hand and rubbing your clit with the other. “gotta wait for them to come back.”
arousal leaks from your pussy and you continue jerking him off until the familiar footsteps in the gravel grow louder, and dia takes it as his signal to push you down on the hay again and slam his cock into your soaking pussy.
“fuck!” you scream as your pussy welcomes him in greedily. “dia!”
“you like that, huh? you like my cock?”
“yes, i love it!” you moan loudly, gasping for air against the hay. “i love your cock.”
“that’s right.”
he continues hitting you with thrust after thrust of his hips, the sound reverberating through the wooden walls of the barn. it may be muffled from the outside, but there is no doubt the others can’t hear you.
your pussy is still sensitive from last night, but more than eager to please diavolo’s cock as he drills your hole, slamming against all the right places. “ah! fuck, dia, i’m gonna cum!”
“you’re gonna cum? your bratty pussy’s gonna cum all over my cock?”
“yes!”
“fuck,” he gasps. “want me to cum in your pussy, hm? fill it up ’til ya can’t take no more?”
“yes! dia, please!”
“gonna fuckin’ breed ya.”
“do it, dia! do it!”
“gonna knock ya up, show ‘em all how good i fucked ya!” he groans. “gonna teach my brat a lesson and knock her up.”
your cries turn into fully incomprehensible moans, but he knows you want it as much as he does. you want him to mark your body in ways it’s never been marked before and claim you as his forever.
so while you babble away, you both rock against the hay with hot, sticky bodies and there’s nothing but steamy air and filthy words between you.
before you know it, your orgasm washes over you and your pussy tightens around his cock, causing him to spurt ropes of his cum into your pussy.
your pussy tightens, causing him to spurt ropes of cum into your pussy as you scream in delight; your orgasms instils pure bliss into your body, as it does to dia who lets out an animalistic growl as he fucks you both through the high.
“who fuckin’ owns this pussy?”
“you do! you own it, dia.” you mumble, barely able to form words with how much you’re moaning. “you own my pussy. you own me.”
“that’s right,” he grunts. “i fuckin’ own ya.”
with one last rut, he stills deep groan and leans over, panting above you and pressing soft along your shoulder as you gasp for air.
“your mine, brat.”
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aurasplanet · 1 month
Text
GRIMES’ KID carl grimes x fem!reader
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warnings — age gap (not explicitly mentioned, i imagined 4 years; carl is 18 reader is 22), carl has a thing for you being older, dry humping, mocking, riding, bad ending probably
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carl met you when you were brought back to alexandria, battered and bruised and shaking like a leaf from presumably trauma. his father, daryl, and rosita had gone scavenging and found you, and after some questions and your worrying state they brought you back.
he was drawn to you immediately. you looked around his age, but when he found out you were a little older it made him more… interested? he was intrigued by how you held yourself. your normal behavior a great contrast to how shaken up you were when he first saw you.
he liked how similar you held yourself compared to him, cold, independent, confident even if it was a facade. he liked how when you met him you just shook his hand, looked into his eye with kindness in yours. one of the first people to not look too long or overreact and interrogate him about the bandage.
it was the little things that made carl’s brain short circuit. tying your shirt up when it got too hot, exposing the skin of your belly. offering to care for judith, unknowing to how carl’s mind ran wild about how you would do as a mother. maybe he was getting ahead of himself, but this deep rooted crush he had has developed over the two years you’ve been here. despite never acting on it.
but you act so nonchalant around him. he’s starting to understand how glenn and maggie fell together like puzzle pieces so quickly, but you don’t seem to spare him a glance anymore. it drives him insane.
as of now the group is huddled together, brainstorming their next scavenging trip to satisfy negan. you’re standing right in front of him, clad in cargo shorts and a white top tied in the front. you stood with your hand over your eyes, blocking yourself from the blazing sun as much as you could.
it’s the little things.
you feel eyes on you and turn around, laughing shortly with no surprise that carl was behind you. “hey kid,” you walk up to carl, flicking his hat with a smile. he’s always lurking in the background when the group is having discussions. he knows his father will either be too scared to let him join, or too wary to include his ideas.
he hums in response, squinting his eye to see you clearer. “hi.”
you shift your weight on your hip, “it’s a little hot out to be wearing a flannel and jeans, huh?”
carl shrugs and lifts his hat, ruffling his hair a bit before putting it back on. “not much choice.” him and those short answers, making it hard for you when all you want to do is listen to his pretty, raspy voice.
you huff and start walking towards his house, a slight smirk setting on your lips when you hear him shuffling behind you “you’re not going to help?”
“they’re sending your dad and a couple of others, not me.” you wait for him to speak again, ask you something else maybe. “they want me to watch after judith though.”
“i got it.”
it’s not that he doesn’t want you there, quite the opposite. it just irks him that even the smallest task of watching his own sister was being given to someone else.
you look back at him amusedly. “okay cowboy, i see you’re mister independent now?” he rolls his eye at the nickname, you gave it to him when you first met him. the hat you always saw him in resembled a cowboy’s hat. and when he kept getting antsy, correcting you defensively, it stuck as a way to pick on him a bit.
he grumbles, “i’ve been independent, you guys just refuse to listen to me.” you giggle and open the front door of his house, pouting at him mockingly. you take judy away from olivia with a smile and a thank you.
“you poor thing.” you bounce judith on your hip, hearing carl scoff behind you as he closes the door. you heard olivia say something about judith’s nap time so you head up to her room to put her down.
no surprise carl followed you.
“on a serious note,” you put judith down for bed, smiling at her sweetly. “i’m sure they’ll come around eventually. you’re a grimes for gods sake.”
“yeah, and that’s all they see me as.” he grumbles under his breath. you give him a look that says ‘i heard that’ and lead him out of judy’s room. “don’t act like you don’t either. i’m just rick’s son to you.”
you cross your arms and turn to face him, leaning against the door of his bedroom. “really, kid?”
he nods, licking his lips before continuing. “i’m just like some errand boy with a messed up face. i have to sneak out to execute my ideas and get my ass chewed out for it.” you knew he was talking about the time he attacked negan’s men, the memory making your face screw up. you were terrified of what negan could and would do to carl.
“one, stop saying you have a messed up face. two, maybe try to persuade people into listening to you more. i can help. when you go off and do things like that it makes you seem like you’re still a reckless kid.”
“i’m not a kid.” carl snarls, getting closer to you. his eye flicks from your eyes to your lips. you don’t miss it, you silently gasp and put your hands on his chest to prevent him from coming closer.
“slow your roll, kid.” the nickname rolls off your tongue out of habit, making carl even more upset.
he sighs annoyedly, “seriously?” he raises his hand up over yours slowly. he gave you time to pull away and smirks when you don’t. “slow my roll, huh?” you roll your eyes and push at his chest again, albeit softer this time.
“i think…” your hand still in his, he guides it up to his hair. you blink your eyes away from him. “i think you do that on purpose.” his head dips down to look into your eyes that are hellbent on avoiding him.
“do what on purpose?” your voice is breathless, he’s winning.
he smiles and tilts your chin up with his finger, “call me ‘kid’, mess with me, ignore me. you’re trying to ignore that you want me.” you scoff but your eyes still stay trained behind him. “say it.”
you look up at him now, breathing out heavily. “i want you.” it’s a mumble under your breath, barely audible.
“what was that, darlin’?” you purse your lips at the new pet-name.
“you heard me, grimes.”
he laughs breathlessly, inching his face closer to yours. “yeah, i did. i wanna hear you say it again.” he’s doing this so easily, turning you into putty in his hands. he’s always been the grimes kid you picked on, having fun toying around with him. he’s gone and turned it around on you so quickly it makes your head spin.
“i want you, carl.” he growls when you say his name, pushing his lips against yours harshly. his imagination is vivid, no doubt. but all of the begging he had you do for him in his head didn’t come close to the pretty, honey-like sound of your real voice admitting you want him.
it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and deepens the kiss. you let out a small whine, using your free hand to grip his shirt.
he chuckles, “i bet this just has you seething, huh? you’re always so cocky, i wonder how people would react to you acting all pathetic for someone younger than you.” your hand in his hair tugs causing him to groan.
his lips go to your jawline, sucking and biting and kissing at the skin. he’s careful to not leave marks, saving those for the places only he could see. his hand goes behind you to open the door, pushing you inside and shutting it with his foot. he lays you down on his bed and hovers over you.
he bites his lips while he takes you in. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees the sheer shine of sweat on your skin, how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks with the little light seeping from the window.
he pushes your shirt up and kisses along your abdomen, leading up to your chest and taking it off completely. his hand goes to your back, lifting you off the mattress slightly to rid you of your bra. he sighs with satisfaction when he finally sees your tits for himself.
his fingers lazily roll your nipples, the small action causing you to whimper and buck your hips. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” he was going to prove to you he was no longer a kid, one way or another. he was going to prove to you that he could make you feel good.
“you know, i like when you try to boss me around. because now i know i can put you in your place so easily,” his laugh in your ear is menacing. he peels your shorts off and groans at the wet patch on your panties.
he grinds against your clit and you gasp, his jeans causing friction that feels so good. the embarrassment of you being nearly fully naked while he’s still dressed adding onto the fire in your belly. he huffs in your ear every time he moves his hips, his hands holding yours in place against the mattress.
“do it.” your voice rasps out, your lust blown eyes boring into his.
he cocks his brow, “do what, darlin’?”
you bite your lip and resist rolling your eyes back from the pleasure. “put me in my place.” he laughs humorlessly, grinding against you a little harder and ripping a moan from you.
“this not enough for you?”
your coy smile returns, “tryin’ to say you can’t do better than that?” he growls and flips you over,
“if you wanna be so cocky, ride me.” carl tilts his head, placing his hands on your hips. you huff and shoot him a dirty look. “you asked for this.”
you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he laughs at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.
you whine at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. his hat falls off as a result and with a smirk he picks it up and sets it on your head. your glossy eyes look at him curiously, “you look perfect.”
you look down shyly, trailing your hand up his shirt to reveal his slim figure. you breathe out shakily as you force the rest of him inside of you, sitting still for a bit to adjust and get used to feeling him inside of you.
all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eyes raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly. he can’t help but huff out a laugh and hold your hips. “let me, darlin’.”
“i got it.”
you squeal when he bounces your hips for you, your head falling to his neck. he wraps a hand around your throat and pushes you back into place. “i wanna watch you, watch you fall apart. watch your desperate face.” his mouth goes to your chest, sucking harsher than before.
he lets go of your throat and puts both hands on your hips again, doing all the work while you moan sweetly on top of him. he can’t take his eyes off of you, finally getting you to himself the way he wanted. not to mention how hot you look in his hat.
your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.
“fuck, i’m close. y’feel so good around me, darlin’.” you whine at his words, god he finds you so cute. even when you’re a mess on his dick.
you mumble against his lips, “me too.”
he leans back, watching your face while you struggle to keep your pace. “cum with me, pretty?” you nod eagerly, muttering a weak ‘please’.
“good girl.”
he flips you over, thrusting into you fast and messily. his lips lock with yours and his right hand cups your chest. he pulls out with a groan and brings your hand up to wrap around his cock. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.
he sighs as he lays next to you, pulling you into his side. “how’s that for kid.”
you shrug, “eh, i did most of the work.” he looks down and squints at you,
“do i have to show you again?”
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captain-hawks · 7 months
Text
BEST FRIENDS & BAD IDEAS
♡ — jean kirstein x f!reader
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Big aspirations and even bigger dildos—in which a poorly thought out plan makes it incredibly hard to act like your feelings for Jean Kirstein are platonic. Not when they’re anything but. And especially not when you’re half naked in his lap.
18+ ONLY
wc — 2.7k
prompt — cockwarming, creampie
additional content — NSFW, 18+, best friends to lovers speed run, dildo use, implied masturbation, unprotected p in v, praise kink, jean kirstein’s big dick
╰┈➤ kinktober masterlist
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“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come,” Jean growls, and his low, rough tone sends you off-kilter, shoving you headfirst over the precarious edge you’ve been foolishly dangling from.
In retrospect, perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.
In the long list of questionable decisions you’ve made today, one of the first catalysts guaranteeing inevitable disaster was your lack of foresight to lock your bedroom door before stripping off your shorts and underwear and preparing to lower yourself down onto the ridiculously large dildo that had been delivered in an even more comically large Amazon box this morning. 
Your best friend of many years and college roommate, Jean Kirstein, came home just as your makeshift “stand”—you’d hastily attached the suction cup at the base of the dildo to the last clean plate in the cabinet for lack of a better surface—went flying across the rug, ripping the few inches you’d manage to ease down onto right out of your lube-slick channel. You’d hit the floor with a thud, growling in frustration. This, understandably, had the unfortunate effect of attracting the concern of said roommate, who swiftly burst into your room as if you were in the middle of being robbed. 
The concern quickly morphed into hysterics as he spotted the giant purple dildo wiggling uselessly a few feet away from where you were lying on your stomach, punching the carpet and yelling at him to get out with as much dignity as you could muster.
“That’s my shirt,” he commented dryly, ignoring your pleas for him to forget everything he had just seen. 
“Well it was in my drawer,” you spat back, trying to push the dildo-plate behind you, although the damage was already done.
Jean leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I have so many questions.”
“Our business hours are between 8 and 5, so you’ll have to call back tomorrow. Sorry,” you said with a dismissive wave, subtly kicking the plate and dildo beneath the bed. 
The suction cup chose that moment to pop off, and all ten inches came rolling back into view right where a bar of sunlight was stretching across the floor from the window. It would have almost looked artsy. 
If it weren’t a fucking dildo.
“I thought you ordered a lamp,” he observed mildly, motioning to the huge cardboard box you’d yet to take out to the recycling bin. 
“I’m gonna order you a fleshlight if you don’t shut up,” you grumbled, shoving on a pair of sweatpants.
Jean crinkled his nose, running a hand through his hair. “That thing’s so big, the landlord might start charging us for three tenants if he sees it. Is this a cry for help?”
“I’m trying to prepare myself for seducing Eren at the party Saturday night,” you whisper-yelled, as if anyone else was going to overhear you in your otherwise empty apartment. 
“Jaeger?!” he barked out with a disbelieving laugh. 
“Everyone says he’s huge. I don’t want it to be a disaster.”
“He’s not that fucking big!” he exclaimed incredulously. 
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Can you like, go be somewhere tonight? Go get so high with Conny you forget you saw anything? I’m gonna go try in the bathroom instead.”
“You’re kicking me out of my own apartment so you can shove a giant, sparkly purple dildo inside of yourself imagining it’s Jaeger’s dork ass?”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Jean.”
He groaned. “The bathroom sounds like an even worse idea. You’ll slip, hit your head on something, blood will go everywhere, and we’ll lose the security deposit.”
“Or my plan will work, I’ll get laid this weekend, and you can stop complaining about how grumpy I’ve been lately,” you reasoned matter-of-factly. 
Jean’s hand came to rest on your shoulder as you attempted to push past him to leave the room, aforementioned dildo jiggling menacingly in your hand. “You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he said a little more softly, raising a brow as he cast another look at the offending object.
“I have lube!” you shot back defensively.
Jean glanced up at the ceiling, muttering something about regret under his breath before exhaling, “Let me help you.”
In all the years that you’ve known Jean, you’ve done an excellent job at keeping your little crush on him your best kept secret. A secret kept under the most formidable lock and key, buried deep in the depths of your psyche. Tucked away in the very back of a dusty, old cabinet like an expired can of corn. 
Objectively, you know Jean’s handsome. You’re well aware. 
With his intense, hazel eyes—ones that see everything. 
His tall, solid form. 
His sinfully curved, pink lips (and his habit of idly sliding his tongue along the bottom one). 
His long, dexterous fingers—a dangerous thought. 
That fucking mullet he let grow in, which shouldn’t be nearly as sexy as it is when he rolls right out of bed and leaves his room looking like a pillow-rumpled supermodel. 
He’s hot, okay?
And sure, you’ve drunkenly kissed at a few parties over the years. Jean’s seen your ass more times than you can count. Definitely your boobs that time he ran into the bathroom to puke while you were showering. Sometimes he has a habit of putting his head on your lap when you’re both on the couch, nudging you till you card your hands through his soft brown hair like a damn dog. 
But it’s always been platonic. 
Friendly. 
Two people who are just very, very comfortable with one another. Comfortable in knowing that neither intends to ruin their stable, solid friendship by carelessly sprinkling feelings into the mix. 
Comfortably going so far as to share the sordid details of your sex lives (or lack thereof, lately) while leaning against the kitchen counter eating take out food without batting an eye—though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t try to one up him sometimes when you feel that familiar, unwelcome twinge of jealousy yawning awake inside of you.
But this?
This is asking too much of your restraint to keep your heart walled off and your mouth clamped shut. In your defense, it was already left in pitiful tatters after grinning-and-bearing it throughout the seven-month-long nightmare that was Jean dating fucking Pieck. 
The next phase of your slew of terrible ideas today began with Jean sitting at the head of your bed, back against the wall, holding the dildo between his legs. Like your own personal fucking dildo holder. Grinning like this wasn’t the single most awkward thing the two of you have ever done (save for the time you both fell asleep with your head in his lap on the couch and woke up to his accidental boner poking you in the ear—neither of you ever mentioned that again). 
And it would have been totally fine if it worked out like you imagined in your head the moment he pitched it—you sinking down onto the silicone schlong a few times, stuffing in as much as you could while he held it still. Then letting him carry on with his day while you lay there in bed for a little while with it lodged inside of you, getting yourself used to the stretch. Totally fine. 
The reality of the situation was far different, entailing a sticky, slippery mess of lube coating of your hands and a dildo that bent and flopped in every direction as you tried to carefully impale yourself on it while maintaining some sense of dignity. 
You had given up fairly quickly, butting your head against Jean’s collarbone and sighing as you asked if he thought Eren would go slow. 
He was quiet for a moment. 
“…do you trust me?” Jean had asked carefully, like his next suggestion wasn’t going to send you spiraling.
Like “Just sit on my dick, as a friend!” wasn’t the most fucking confusing statement your heart, brain, and vagina had ever heard.
Which is how you find yourself in your current predicament, straddling Jean Kirstein’s lap with far more inches of him than you’d realized he’d been keeping tucked away buried to the hilt in the velvety heat between your thighs. Raw, skin-to-fucking-skin, because you’re both in a miserable dry spell with not a single condom to be found between the two of you. And somehow the combination of “known you for half of my life” and “just got tested” and “IUD” sounded better than one of you being tasked with trudging to the pharmacy.
Or, god fucking forbid, going down one floor to ask Conny for one.
Nope. 
You have three days to prepare yourself for whatever may come with Eren, so sitting on your best friend’s intimidatingly large dick sans condom the least of your worries. Even if it feels so incredible you’re literally silently choking on the moan threatening to spill past your lips. 
Even if you fucking swear you heard his breath hitch when the thick head of his cock began to slip past your entrance, stretching you open wide as he breached your damp channel. 
Even if he hardly had to touch himself to get hard for this. 
Even if his gaze darkened when you choked out, “Jean, your dick is huge.”
This was a terrible idea. 
“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.”
“Doing what?!” you ask, exasperated.
He rests his hands on your waist, “Doing this,” and squeezes firmly, “on my dick.”
“This isn’t even sex,” you tell him, ignoring the way the close proximity of his hazel eyes sets a flurry of emotion stuttering in your chest. “It’s like, cockwarming at best. You can’t come from cockwarming if you’re not even turned on.”
Jean raises an eyebrow. “Do you even know how tight you are?”
“That’s obviously why I was worried about Ere—”
“It’s like this,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your throat. It’s a loose hold, only meant to prove a snarky point, but a spark of arousal seeps through your body anyway at the mere suggestion. His eyes widen a fraction at the traitorous way your walls clamp down on him even harder in response. “What, you into being choked?”
“I’m into a lot of things, Jeanie,” you tell him haughtily, trying to ignore the heat blistering beneath your skin.
“Like dumb idiots named Eren Jaeger?” he counters, making to grab for the tongue you’re currently sticking out at him. 
If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think Jean sounds like he’s jealous. 
Which he definitely isn’t. 
But you poke the bear anyway. 
“What, are you jealous?”
He shifts slightly, and you bite your lip to stifle the moan as your cunt spasms around the pressure from his cock. 
If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, his brow furrows as the corners of his mouth tilt downward slightly. “I just think you deserve better.”
You tug on his earlobe, letting out a weak laugh in an attempt to dispel the sticky, messy feeling of hope trying desperately to cling to the arousal stirring in your gut. “Says the guy who’s currently fucking me.”
Jean scoffs and deadpans, “I thought this wasn’t sex.”
Who are you kidding? Certainly not the tension coiling ruthlessly in your abdomen. 
You move a little, trying and failing to relieve the sensation of hot wax dripping down your spine. Instead, you let out a tiny, strangled noise when your throbbing clit presses down against his pelvis, the resulting flood of pleasure setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.
The way he growls out your name through gritted teeth is a warning, but his low tone only serves to stoke the flames licking their way up between your thighs. 
You move again, inhaling sharply through your nose.
“Fuck,” he groans quietly, head hitting the wall behind him with a resounding thud. 
You’re not sure if he does it on purpose, but his hands find their way back to your hips, calloused fingertips pressing directly against your skin as he slides them up beneath your shirt. His shirt. 
The next time you rock against him, his grip on you tightens. And then, you feel it—he tugs you forward. 
You lean further into him, without really meaning to, forehead coming to rest against his. “What are we…”
“Just keep going,” he murmurs. 
He shifts again, sinking down lower so his back is pressed against the mattress, and you realize the angle gives you more purchase to grind down against him when he pulls at your waist, thumbs lazily skimming your hip bones. 
“Jean…” you whisper, not really sure what else you intend to say. 
“I want you to feel good,” he says softly, pushing his hips against you, even though he’s snugly bottomed out. 
It feels so fucking good—
—laying atop Jean while he stares back up at you, pupils clearly dilated in arousal—
—watching his eyes fall shut as you run a hand along the stubble on his jaw—
—knowing he’s well aware the slickness between your legs is no longer from the lube, your cunt gushing with arousal at the feeling of being stuffed deep with his thick cock. 
So you tell yourself you’ll figure the rest out later when you start to shamelessly grind down against him. 
“You don’t have to be quiet for me,” Jean teases when you cough to cover up a gasp.
Your answering moan is nearly a whimper, and Jean’s muscles tense beneath you as he continues to guide your hips. He doesn’t try to pull his cock out from where it’s lodged inside of you, doesn’t start thrusting and fucking up into you. He just lets you chase the clitoral stimulation you so desperately need while you’re cockwarming him, groaning along with you at each needy drag. 
“Good girl, that’s it.”
This is far more intimate than you bargained for, the gentle slide of his hands up your back scraping your heart out bit-by-bit. 
“Holy shit, you don’t know how close I am to coming right now,” he moans in a gravelly, unsteady tone. 
All you can do is whimper his name when the rubber band suddenly snaps in response, your body trembling as a wave of white-hot pleasure crashes over you. 
And then Jean’s hands are cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours. He kisses you fiercely as you whine and shudder through your orgasm, moaning into your mouth as you card your fingers through his hair. You can feel his cock throb inside of you, pulsing with need as your tight cunt spasms and contracts, relentlessly squeezing his shaft while you soak him with your release. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he’s groaning, both of you too drunk on pleasure to move when he suddenly climaxes, cock pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep in your pussy. 
Chests heaving, Jean slowly sits up, forehead falling against your shoulder as he wraps his arms around your waist. 
After a few minutes of silence, he finally murmurs, “Don’t fuck Jaeger.”
You tilt his head upward, finger resting just below his chin, skimming the stubble that’s there. Too many emotions are swimming in his hazel eyes, more than you can identify—save for one that you recognize with a jolt of clarity. It’s the way you look at him, when he’s not paying attention.
Longing. 
Desire. 
Soft, gentle, unfiltered affection. 
This time, you’re the one to close the distance between your mouths, brushing your lips against his. 
“Who?” you ask, smiling into the kiss. 
Jean chuckles, the sound like warm honey, and he deepens the kiss, one hand sliding to the back of your head. Though you remain seated on his softening length, cum begins to seep from your slick heat, pooling on his balls and abdomen. 
He goes to move, but you don’t budge. “You wanna get cleaned up?”
You shake your head, the corner of your mouth tilting upward with a smirk. “I’m comfortable.”
Jean bites his lower lip, huffing, “My cum’s dripping all over, and I’m two seconds from getting hard again if you keep squeezing down on me like that.”
Feigning a look of innocence, you flex the muscles in your tight, soaked channel one more time for good measure. He chokes, and you grin. 
“Good.”
— likes, comments, &/or reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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bandgie · 5 months
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Hey I saw your requests were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot. Can I request a fic Where Hyunjin really needs to pee and reader is joking around with him while straddling his lap and he keeps warning her that he needs to go but she thinks he’s kidding and he ends up peeing a bit and he feels kinda shy about it so reader tells him it’s okay to just let go while she’s on his lap. Then she starts grinding on him and he gets turned on and they fuck raw for the first time 😁
a/n: oh you're siicckk I love it
warnings: just read the ask man, MDNI 18+, established relationship, under the influence, fem!reader, dom-ish reader, soft dick hyunjin (lets fucken go), fluff mostly, PIV, no protection, come on you should know me by now!
1.4k words
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Maybe drinking wasn't the best idea. You could only imagine the pounding headache that would come in the morning. However, you couldn't manage to care enough as you sat on Hyunjin's warm lap. His hands were lazily placed on your hips, softly rocking them against his crotch.
Another bad idea in getting wasted was that neither you nor Hyunjin had explored each other much. The relationship was still new, but that didn't stop either of you from grinding up against each other late into the night. 
Hyunjin could feel the excitement bubbling in his stomach. The feeling of your plush thighs on his, how your chest was pressed in his face. It sent a thrill down his spine to be this close to you, but there was a familiar pressure in his bladder that ruined the mood.
"Babe," his voice was velvety soft as he spoke. "I gotta piss."
You looked down at your lover. A confused look on your face as you replied, "Now?" He nods, looking at you like a dog who got his bone taken away. "Yes, now."
Rather than getting up, you grab the back of his head and force him between your breasts. He makes a mmf! sound then giggles at your behavior. "Babbeee," he drawls. "I really need to go." His hands tap your ass as an encouragement to get up, but you aren't having it.
"You just don't want to touch me," you pout. The alcohol must be getting to your head. You're not one to deny someone of relieving their bladder. Hyunjin, however, is too drunk to catch onto the playfulness of your tone. "Of course I want to touch you! I'll just go to the bathroom real quick and-"
Hyujin's cut off with a moan as you grind your hips down on him. You rock back and forth, trying to create some friction between the layers of clothes. "You can hold it." It's not a request, but a demand from you. 
He shakes his head, "I really can't. We drank a lot. I'mma piss myself."
This makes you giggle, "Big boys don't pee their pants." You ignore Hyunjin's whines as you lift your hips just enough to remove your skirt. With your white underwear exposed, he can see the small patch of wetness that's accumulated. 
"If you do wanna piss that bad, you can go here," you look down to your bare thighs. Your hands move from the back of his head to the front of his pants. He doesn't protest when you unbuckle his belt, zip down his zipper to pull out his soft cock.
You coo at the sight, grabbing ahold of his dick and running your thumb along the slight. "You really are drunk," you mumble. "Can't even get hard." Hyunjin looks both horrified and aroused. It's your first time seeing his cock, and he's flaccid. You, on the other hand, are beyond ecstatic to see it. 
The warmth of your hand makes his hips jerk upwards. He groans. "Fuck, I'm gonna pee on you."
No matter how many times Hyunjin's warned you, you're still shocked to see a yellow stream emit from his tip. He tried to cover his cock, but you quickly slap his hands away. His piss lands on his jeans, leaking into the material. The warmth seeps onto your thighs, all the way down until your white underwear is stained with a yellow hue.
He moans. Moans when he sees you covered in his pee, his fifth. Hyunjin expects you to jump off his lap and run to the bathroom. He's waiting for your disgusted expression, but he's surprised to see a wide smile on your face. 
You pump his wet cock, drooling. "Fuck it's everywhere. Peed on me like a dog, you're so hot." Some piss leaks from his cock as you stroke him faster. Your underwear sticks to your cunt, but you're certain it's more of his own fluid than yours.
Hyunjin whimpers, "I...You think it's hot?"
The uncertainty in his voice pulls at your heartstrings. Your boyfriend could do anything, and you'd find it endearing. He has you wrapped around his finger, and he doesn't even know it. "I think you're hot," you emphasize. "I need you in me now. I really wanna fuck you."
If Hyunjin was more sober, he would be horrified at the thought of having sex with you like this. He wanted your first time to be romantic. He wanted to take things slow and feel your body on his, completely nude. Still, he can't ignore the delight in how you pull your soaked underwear to the side.
His cock twitches in your hand. After his tinkle, Hyunjin feels himself getting hard in your soft palms. He helps you over his dick with his hands on your waist, slowly lowering you to his length. 
Everything is so easy, so perfect when his tip breaches your walls. There's not an ounce of pain as he fills you up. You shiver and place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. "Mmm so good," you moan. "Deeper."
Hyunjin complies eagerly, shoving the remaining inches of his cock. It nestles snugly in your cunt, the head kissing your cervix. As much as you would like to bounce on him, you stay sitting fully on his dick. You want to feel how the curve of him hits every spot within you. How your walls tighten and squeeze around his unfamiliar girth.
It's only when you've begun dripping that you move upwards. A few inches of Hyunjin's length slip out before you slide back down. He slides effortlessly in you, stretching you wonderfully. 
Hyunjin can't decide whether he wants to look at your face or where your bodies connect. He loves watching his cock disappear in you as you ride him, but he also loves your fucked out expression. How your mouth hangs open to moan uncontrollably, the way your nose scrunches when he thrusts his hips upwards, how your eyes look into his so dreamily. 
"Fuck," Hyunjin groans. This might not have been the ideal way he wanted to make love, but he'll forever save the image in his mind. Imprint the feeling of your body on his. He'll immortalize this moment in a painting.
Both of you are too tipsy to properly fuck into each other. Your thrusts are sloppy and they don't match. Sometimes you have to stay hovering while he grinds upwards to you. The sounds of his thighs clapping against the back of yours echo in the house.
You throw back your head when he decides to use you to his liking. He bounces you on his cock like a fleshlight, eyes crazed. With your throat exposed to him, he can't help but lean forward to bury his face into your neck. 
Without warning, he bites down. You cry out from the sensation, feeling his teeth pierce your flesh. The saltiness of your skin settles on his tongue and the primal taste makes his hips move rougher.
A warm sensation builds quickly in your stomach, and you find yourself flooding before you can comprehend it. The familiar pale yellow liquid spurt from your cunt, and sprays all over his lower stomach. 
Hyunjin laughs tiredly upon feeling the liquid stream out of you. He pulls his head back and looks down, seeing the mess. "Looks like I wasn't the only one who needed to go."
You babble incoherently, jumble 'sorrys' and 'don't stop.'
He chuckles again and focuses his attention back on your dripping cunt. The extra warmth and wetness only push Hyunjin closer to the edge. His grip tightens on your hips and he drives into you. His balls tense and his cock twitches, and for a moment he thinks about pulling out. 
But the way you're helplessly letting him use you and looking at him so endearing makes it seem as though you might get upset if he pulls out. So he doesn't, and he buries his cock to the base as he cums inside. 
You thought it was impossible for you to feel wetter, but you're proven wrong. Hyunjin's cum shoots itself deep inside to claim you. You feel gravity pull his arousal down and out of your pussy, dripping onto his thighs and the couch. 
Tiredly, you collapse on his chest. His arms wrap around you and pull you close, peppering your neck and cheek with kisses. Both of you find solace in each other's embrace, giggling and giving open mouth kisses carelessly. It doesn't take long for the cum and piss to get uncomfortable.
Both of you decide a thorough shower is much needed... and maybe another round.
a/n: this was pretty fun to write! little secret for ya'll, men can't piss during sex (unless they have a medical condition) so that's why I had him soft to pee. but tbh we need more skz soft penis appreciation. if you're with me say 'i'
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