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somejazzinthemorning · 2 months

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snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

#Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Carlos Sainz x You #Carlos Sainz Smut #Carlos Sainz Fanfic #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Formula 1 x Reader #Formula 1 x You #F1 x Reader #F1 x You #F1 Imagine #F1 One Shot #Driver x Reader #F1 Driver x Reader #Driver x You #F1 Driver x You #F1 Fanfic #FanF1ction

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s0dium · 2 months

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Douchebag

A/n: This is honestly the BEST fic I've ever written! I took a lot from prompts I found on this site and the smut scene is inspired from a book called "The Kiss Quotient." (It was just so damn good). This fanfic is also inspired by my original fanfic, "Douchebag" Tengen x Reader. ALSO, I AM WORKING ON YUTA FICS, SO DON'T WORRY! Word count: 3.5k

Synopsis: Gojo Satrou was a man of many things. It would be hard to find anyone in the jujutsu world who hadn’t heard of his name before, whether that be through his many wins in battle or his reputation as an A-class player. Some describe him as eccentric, and others (mostly girls) describe him as irresistible. You? Well, you on the other hand would describe him as nothing else than an utter, complete, douchebag. Warnings: Enemies to lovers, teasing, fingering, intense kissing for a sec, squirting, use of pet names, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding kink, virgin!reader, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, choking ~

You scoffed, watching through the classroom window as a clearly frustrated old man stormed out of the building, no doubt a higher up. No doubt the work of Gojo Satoru. "God I hate him." You hissed, turning to face a dozing-off Shoko and your other friend Haibara. The classroom you sat in was almost empty, bathed in the soft light of midday filtering through large windows. Sparse shadows stretch across the well-worn wooden floor. Rows of desks, mostly unoccupied, face a dusty chalkboard at the front. "Who Satoru?" Shoko yawned, leaning into the palm of her hand to face you. Haibara lets out a loud chuckle. "Why? Because he's an ass to higher-ups?" He nods to the window and you click your tongue against the rough of your mouth. "No, it's because he is an ass in general. His whole 'holier than thou' attitude, and don't get me started on the way he treats girls." You practically shiver as you remember the time you saw some poor girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High profess her love to the white hair man, only to run away sobbing. "I swear to god it's like he expects us to kiss the floor that he walks on, he's.... infuriating" "Who's infuriating?" Oh god, you knew that stupidly deep voice anywhere. You whipped around to find yourself face to face with the very tall white-haired man you were talking about; a shit-eating grin spread across his infuriatingly handsome face.

“You couldn't be talking about me, could you?” Satoru's voice dripped faux shock and you rolled your eyes.

“Well you know what they say, speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You spat.

“That must be why you love using that pretty mouth of yours to talk about me so much.” Satoru lowered himself to close the provoking height difference between the two of you until your noses were inches away from touching. “Cause ya love having me around doncha.”

In that moment you have to conjure up every ounce of self-restraint to not spit in his face there and then, and luckily your friends catch the drift. "Hey Satoru! What are you doing here?" Perked up Haibara who reached out his hand to dap Gojo up. "Well, Suguru and I are heading for a night out today, small club, and I thought, out of the kindness of my heart," You scoff and Gojo merely grins and continues, "I'd invite you all. Drink on me of course." As Satrou's invitation lingered in the air, you noticed Shoko's ears perk up. Her curiosity was piqued, a subtle lift of her eyebrows betraying her interest. You bit your tongue, the taste of reluctance sharp against your teeth. The idea of going anywhere with Satrou was far from appealing, but knowing your friends might join made it harder to outright refuse.

You crossed your arms defensively, leaning back slightly as you fixed Satrou with a skeptical look. "And why would you want me there?"

Satrou's lips curled into a half-smirk, his eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint."You're annoying, I'll give you that," He took a casual step closer, and leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "but I never said you weren't fun."

His words, intended to irk you, did their job well. You glared at him sharply, the frustration evident in your furrowed brows and the hard set of your jaw.

Satrou chuckled.

“Great, I’ll take that as a yes then, I'll text you guys the details.” He turns around to walk out of the classroom. “See you guys there!”

There was a silence as you all watched Satrou walk away before Haibara turns to look at you. “So are you going to go y/n? Come on it will be so much fun!”

“Yeah no way in hell.”

~ You were a liar. You were a liar because here you were, leaning over the counter of a bar in a club that was far from "small." The nightclub was a pulsing, chaotic hive of activity. Neon lights flashed in syncopation with the deafening throb of electronic dance music that shook the very air. The club was jam-packed with bodies moving rhythmically, the heat from the mass of humanity palpable as the scent of sweat and sweet perfumes mingled. The bar surface was sticky under your arms, and the occasional spill from a too-hastily poured drink added to the chaos of sounds and smells around you. You lazily stirred the thin red straw into your drink, trying to politely ignore the creep who wouldn't stop talking to you.

Somehow, in the maze of gyrating bodies and blinding strobe lights, you had lost both Shoko and Haibara, leaving you stranded at the mercy of this clueless conversationalist. Despite the roar of bass and the chatter of dozens of conversations, his words seemed to bore into your ears, relentless and unyielding. He leaned in closer than necessary, trying to make himself heard over the club's cacophony, not realizing or perhaps not caring, that you were more interested in plotting an escape than in anything he had to say. "And might I say you look gorgeous tonight." It took everything you had not to scoff at this creep's words, but before you should shut the man down, you felt an arm wrap around you. "Everything alright love?" Oh god. You knew that voice anywhere. As you turned, you were met by Satrou's piercing blue eyes, their color vivid even behind stylish rectangular sunglasses. The multicolor flashing lights overhead caught in the threads of Satrou’s light blue button-up, making it shimmer subtly, and the fabric clung just right to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, hinting at the well-defined physique beneath. You hated the fact that your brain immediately noted how damn good he looked. His arm was wrapped around your waist drawing you close and you had to bite your tongue from frowning at the pet name he had given you As he leaned in, his voice was low, a soft murmur over the noise of the club, "This guy bothering you baby?" His tone was teasing, and you could detect the challenge in it, as if daring you to admit that his closeness and pet names affected you just as much as he knew it did. "Of course I'm fine baby!" You smile brightly and for a second you think Satrou looked a bit taken aback. If playing along got you out of this situation so be it. "This guy, I'm sorry, what's your name?" You glance back at the creep who had turned bright red. "I'm sorry, excuse me." You watched as the man disappeared into the throng of the bustling crowd, your attention fixed until he was well out of sight. Only then did you turn back to Satrou, the false warmth on your face instantly transforming into a cold, hard glare.

"Thanks for that, but you can get your hand off me now," you said, your voice icy as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. Despite your efforts, Satrou’s grip on your waist remained firm, unyielding.

"And why should I? I think we made a fantastic couple," Satrou cooed, a teasing lilt in his voice. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying the moment far more than you.

You rolled your eyes, exasperation seeping through. "You really think I would fall for something like that?"

"Why? Did you?" he probed further, his smile widening, eyes searching yours for any sign of genuine affect. Anger started to boil up inside you as your attempts to escape his grasp remained futile.

"I don't think you understand the dynamic here very well, Satoru," you began, your voice low and deliberate, each word punctuated for emphasis. You stepped closer, invading his space as much as he had invaded yours, your eyes never leaving his. "Let me make this crystal clear, I'm not someone you can just fucking conquer, and I'm certainly not one of those girls who's gonna kiss the ground you walk on with your whole 'I'm the strongest' act," you seethed.

Your face was mere inches from his now, your breath mingling, the tension palpable. "Because I know what you really are, Satrou," you hissed, the anger in your voice barely contained. "You're a fucking douche bag." "Oh? Is that so."

Satrou's expression shifted subtly, the amusement fading into something more measured, more cautious. He studied you for a moment and you took the chance to wiggle out of his grasp and make your way through the crowd on the dance floor toward the door. The beat of the music pounds in your ears and throughout your body making your synapses jump like beans in a tin can. You can barely see the floor, only flashes of bodies you frantically tried to push past. Before you can make it to the back door, a hand grips your wrist tightly enough to halt your forward rush. Above the din of the pulsating music and amidst the strobe-lit shadows of dancing figures, Satoru's face comes into view. You feel your breath catch in your throat. God his is beautiful. Strobe lights catch and accent every one of his sharp features alighting them in a multicolor color hue. He pulls your wrist to him so you're close, too close. You can smell the old spice shampoo from his hair mixed in with some sort of sweet cologne. It's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again. "Jesus fucking Christ y/n" he breathed his eyes searching yours. "How long are we going to keep this thing of ours going?" You furrowed your eyebrows. “Our thing? What thing?”

“The thing where we act like we hate each other but actually want to fuck the brains out of each other.” Your eyes widen and you feel your face grow deathly hot. You try to step back, get some space, some room to breathe, but the hand on your wrist keeps you from doing so

“I-fuck you” the words come out of your mouth more soft and meager than you intended to, and you find yourself locked into his blue gaze.

“Believe me, I've thought about it.” His voice is low, and his face isn't painted with a shit-eating grin like it so usually is, he's serious and his eyes are soft. Fuck it. You can no longer hear the lyrics to whatever song was playing, only a soft dull hum of the beat in your ears. Immediately your lips are on his. The kiss is frantic, hot, messy. The club's pulse thrummed through you like a second heartbeat, the noise and chaos all but forgotten in the singular focus of his presence. You could feel one of his large hands on the small of your back, drawing you in until there was no space left between the both of you. Your mouths clashed against each other as if you were both seeking something vital, something long-denied. Satoru's lips were insistent against yours, moving with a fervor that matched the pounding bass surrounding you. You whined as his tongue slipped into your mouth, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the firm press of his chest against yours. The scent of his cologne mixed with the smoky air around us, intoxicating and heady.

Your mouths separated with a soft pop, and Satoru is grinning while you're left dazed, breath heavy and chests rising and falling after it. "How bout you say we get out of here Princess."Gojo's voice was a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear as you broke from the intense kiss.

Before you could even respond, a dizzying rush enveloped you. The loud club vanished in an instant, replaced by the quiet, dimly lit ambiance of his bedroom. You were suddenly on his bed, the soft duvet beneath you a stark contrast to the hard dance floor we'd just left. Right, he can teleport. You forgot about that. Wait was he... where are you going to... Before you can get a word in, he’s once again engulfing your lips with his and pulling you into a feverish kiss in which the two of you can’t seem to get enough of each other. The moment one pulls away to breathe, the other is immediately searching for their lips again; intertwining tongues and teeth clashing together recklessly.

Your hot, everything is hot, your body is burning up by the second and there’s a sickly sweet feeling in your stomach that keeps on expanding as time passes. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hand slip under your skirt and lightly trace the outline of your slit with his index finger. You're painfully wet; your arousal has made a large spot on your underwear translucent. “Just touch me,’ you whined, arching impatiently against his hand. He couldn’t make either of you wait any longer. Slowly, he brought his middle finger down and slid it gently over her folds. You threw your head back. "Ahhhh, more please." He did it again, this time his fingertip slipping between and gathering your wetness. He parted you with two fingers. You let out a gasp when he hit your clit and started to rub it in small circles. You tried to say something, anything to explain how hot you were feeling right now, but your words were lost against his soft lips. The taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him so close against you, skin to skin. Time and space had no meaning anymore. There was only you and Satrou.

“You feeling good baby? Satrou speaks slowly, breath on your neck and voice in your ear making you shiver. You bite your lip and nod like any words that came from you would ruin it. You almost wince when you feel two fingers slip into your tight hole. "Jesus, fuck. You gotta relax princesses." He chuckled, knowing far to well that the tightness was going to feel delicious around him. Two fingers worked into you, and your eyes rolled back into your head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue nipped and sucked the tender skin of your neck. You couldn’t prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts. Oh God, you were riding his hand. That had to be bad. You told herself to stop. You couldn’t. Somehow, you found your hands tangled in his short white hair. Your body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now you could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into you. "Hnghhh.... so good." You squeezed your eyes type, becoming focused on the tightening feeling of your core and the blossoming warm pleasure. Your legs started to tremble under the unbearable pleasure and your back arched against the bed as if your body was trying to escape the euphoric feeling that coursed through your skin. "That’s it, fuck, beautiful girl... such a natural submissive...." You want to tell him he's wrong, all this pleasure wasn't because of his egotistic ass, but it'd be a lie. And as if on command, all feelings come to a heightened crescendo; explosions of euphoria clouding your brain causing your toes to curl from pleasure and your body to shake like a leaf.

It takes a couple seconds after you calmed down to realize you squirted all over Satoru's hand and all blood rushes to your face turning you a bright red.

“Oh my god in so sorry I didn’t-”

Your voice dies out as you watch Satrou pull off his shirt, revealing his extremely built body and toned muscles, to wipe the liquid off his hand. You don’t even notice that he had pulled out his dick until you feel something pressing against your entrance, making you look down and your eyes widen as you do so. Your stomach inwardly twisted, filled with the sickly excitement and your breathing started to quicken. "Shhhhh baby," Satoru cups your cheek and kisses your forehead. It was a sweet gesture despite everything happening right now, a gesture that made your heart swell and your mind yearn for Satoru. The stretch of his dick spreading your walls is insane. No amount of preparation could've prepared you for the length of Satoru's dick. You feel it heavy inside you and Satrou pushes into you until he can't push anymore, until his hips are flush against you and the tip of his length is smushed against your cervix. The pleasure of that alone felt numb, unbearable, you needed friction, you needed him to move. You practically faint when he first thrusts into you in earnest. It's euphoric; the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up. His cock pulsed inside of your silky walls, stretching you to the fullest capacity as he bottomed out again and again. "Oh fuck." Satrou groaned. He was no longer grinning, Satoru's playful resolves vanished and his smile quickly dropped. He knew you'd feel good, but he didn't expect how good you'd feel. The feeling of his hand he had fucked himself to the thought of you for so many nights was nothing compared to the real thing. It was too much, the feeling of your wet soft walls gripping him so tightly. How was he able to live without your pussy in the first place? The pleasure built rapidly, too potent, too insistent. He kneeled over you, a groan escaping his lips—a raw, primal sound that vibrated through the charged air between you. Satorus thrust your quick and hard, a clear display of strength and endurance he had gained from years of jujutsu training. "Been thinking about this, so long, bet you have to have ya~"

As Satrou's long, deliberate fingers encircle your neck, a thrilling chill races down your spine. He applies pressure gently at first, then with a firmer, insistent grip that gradually restricts your airflow, sending a wave of exhilaration through your senses. The world around you narrows, focusing intently on the point where his skin contacts yours, heightening every other sensation that courses through you. His other hand slips under your bra bra to grab and massage your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipples.

"Satoru..! Ahhhh..! I..I, fuckkkkk can't handle this.." You had no strength to answer him, only offering wanton moans in retort as he continued to wreck your body with his completely brutal thrusts. The pain of him hitting the tip of your cervix nearly every time mixed with his hand squeezing your throat it was just all too much.

Satoru. Satoru. Satoru

"Slow down.. please im gonna ahhhh~" Drool slipped passed your lips and you writhed and squirmed at the feeling of hot euphoria passed over your body in flesh arrow. "Gonna cum? Fuck baby, let's... let's come together m'kay?" Satrou almost stuttered. His body had kicked into autopilot, and a deep primal need for you settled in as he thrust in and out, creating a methodical rhythm that echoed in your ears. Your ankles lock around his lower back and you cry out when the head of his cock kisses your womb, your legs shaking as you feel yourself start to be thrown into an intense orgasm. You want to say something about the weird feeling in your stomach, how your skin is buzzing but it's all too much, and before you know it your tumbling toward the edge. It feels like your whole body was shot with electricity and color dances in your eyes as you float in ecstasy.

"Sh-Shit, shit, fuuuuck~" He chuckles into your ear, choking over his words as his hips sputter inside of you, hot cum fills you as much as you can hold inside of your stuffed cunny. Satoru doesn't pull out as you both come down from your high, instead watching you intently as you ride through the aftershocks of your orgasm. "Wanna do this again?" He chuckles.

"Fuck, yes, please."

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojou satoru x reader

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aquickstart · 6 months

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i need to talk to you guys about the colors of the Cattons (Felix specifically) and Oliver. the clothes they are wearing are telling the story of Oliver taking over and leaving his mark throughout the whole movie, with Oliver's failures and successes and a final triumph. holy shit. get in. this is long and ends in ancient greek culture trivia. let;s talk please.

disclaimer: am starting from Oliver's arrival at Saltburn. before that the outfits are also very intentional, but it's a lot more complicated and it has been discussed before. the world distorts once we are at Saltburn and the story gets truly gothic there, and every detail—including color!—is enhanced in meaning. also, special thanks to @kivlaro for doing this with me, the thoughts on this specifically and the Saltburn craze on the whole. pics and detailed analysis under the cut!

let's start from the beginning. here is Oliver at the door. simple, blue shirt.

the shirt is sort of its own character. logically it makes sense as Oliver's suitcase is small and he spends the whole summer there, of course he'll rewear stuff a bunch. but it is blue.

in contrast to Felix, in yellow. yellow is one of Felix's colors (he is the sun, which i've talked about here btw, so this makes sense).

same to Pamela, in blue. first time we see her, she is next to Elspeth, wearing the color that is Oliver's, taking the place that he takes right away, in this very scene. the only other time she is physically present on screen is at dinner, in black and white, and black and white are a blank slate. she is stripped of color and gone very fast.

a bit of crucial data for later: Oliver, in blue, and Felix in pink. pink is very important on Felix. this is their first morning together. they are separate and opposite, solid, contained.

where it starts to get good is the morning after the vampire strike.

Venetia is a Felix extension, just as everyone in the house is to Oliver. i will eventually rant about Saltburn as a whole entity and Cattons as aspects of one self, and Oliver as psychosis, but not here. so, yes, Venetia is a pink riot, a euphoria of self-containment because Oliver gave her a piece of something she felt she lacked to feel whole (validation, attention, care), not a piece of blue, of himself. Oliver is expectedly solid blue. Felix is incredibly interesting and something i didn't pay much attention to at first: predominantly blue, incredibly upset at Oliver for ditching him, with a tile of bright red (on the left! close to heart! over-reaching here but like still!), which still tracks. i mean, really, if i had so much foreign color bleed into me and then abandoned, i'd be pissed, too. nice little touch is sir James' beloved hydrangeas, behind Felix, also pink, very pink, always pink; i don't think i've seen them blue in the movie, although the sort exists.

Farleigh. sweet baby Farleigh i love you. I'm not dead-set on my interpretation of this specifically but i think multiple things are happening with Oliver and Farleigh here. like Rent, which is their song, blue is their color of outsiders and the triers to fit in. Farleigh points out the favoritism and preference of Oliver to him and his mother here, so it may also be appropriation of color to draw attention to Farleigh as almost (but never quite) Oliver. it may also be as simple as that Farleigh, as much as he denies and resists, still retains Oliver's influence, which bleeds into him very slowly.

a nice little moment of Felix wearing blue swim shorts with just tiny specks of a pink pattern. Oliver's shorts also have a bit of pink, but less than Felix's. Oliver is pretty good at remaining unaffected and uninfluenced overall.

and we're getting to where it all clicked and started for me. the Quick family house, the failed reconciliation, and the immediate aftermath. oh it's so good.

on the drive there, Oliver is blue, Felix has a pink polo shirt with a solid blue pullover over it. this is the most blue Felix has ever been (this is the most blue he will ever be!), this is trust. however shaky and toxic it is, Felix loves Oliver and accepts him into his world. as a side note, Oliver's parents are also very blue, mom more so than dad. nice!

and then it crashes. immediately after, it's the evening of the same day, but Felix is not wearing the blue pullover anymore. this is very, very important. this is rejection. it's the end for Oliver in Felix's world and with his trust. Felix, again, in solid pink, Oliver in solid blue. Felix successfully rips him out with the roots and everything. ouch.

daddy. sorry. is that highlighter? sweat? fuck. let me- daddy. SORRY

no i actually have a point about this.

the clothes are replaced by the lights, but we roll with it. Oliver basks in the blue-green light, while Felix is on the other side, in pink and purple and red. sure, blue shines through, and Oliver also walks through the slashes of pink, but it is mostly pretty separate, Oliver watching Felix's pink in his own blue from a distance.

the morning after palette is deep. the wine color that is so prominent in these scenes is fascinating to me. if i were to over-reach again i'd say it's the Oliver in Felix's attributes and in his place that requires the robe to be so dark, not usual definite pink, because deep blue has leaked into the color itself, mixed with it, made itself integral to the shade. but it's also just a nice color, and it is pink in its core. the flowers (with sir James in the background) i think are also this specific shade for the same reason. you look at what remains of Felix everywhere here, and it is his color.

and finally oh the lunch scene. the last supper. the judgement day. the who's afraid of virginia woolf madness.

i think we've established what's up with Oliver, but i also think it's important that he is his own color at lunch but in Felix's pink/wine right before and after. lunch is where he attacks, whereas before and after is where he grieves and enjoys. Farleigh is almost completely blue save for a strip of the same deep pink, and he is soon cast out, and Venetia is striped, blue and pink/salmon, affected deeply by Oliver yet still clinging on to the Catton pink with grief, probably, but also love for Felix.

and after all this, Oliver leaves himself.

no, like, actually, literally himself. sure, he'd got a taste of the Cattons and the pink, but he is a monolith, a solid blue when he leaves Saltburn. he has not been affected by the house, he has taken what he wanted but stayed true and whole. what a power move, honestly.

but it's an even bigger deal that 16 years later, Elspeth runs into Oliver wearing all white and a blue scarf. oh, she's not let this go, alright; it was a long time ago, "but not to me," she says. What Oliver has been up to in that time is a great question, without a doubt he's been keeping tabs on the remaining family as much as he could; but Elspeth has never moved on, either. She has held on to Oliver's blue and the pink is not important at all now. Oliver, of course, is invariably, unwaveringly blue. welcome back to his show.

and welcome back to his triumph.

the only color (except for, again, white and black) we see him wear in the flashback about Saltburn inheritance is the all-too familiar deep pink. wine. bright pink mixed with deep blue.

now i will take a liberty and step back, over-reach, over-interpret and go insane. here's a fun bit on ancient greek culture trivia for you.

this is an interesting and complicated historiographical and linguistic debate that i will not even attempt to relay here, but the essence of it is this: for us, the sea is conventionally deep blue. historically, one of the most prominent civilizations considered "deep wine" to be the descriptor for it (not necessarily the color but the property. highly rec to look this up it's so fascinating). what it gives me here is that Oliver has changed color, but not his self. he has integrated, mixed, but persisted, completely winning over, triumphing. long live the king!

in conclusion, i would just like to propose "colors" by halsey as the next cattonquick anthem. thank you for your attention, please let me know your thoughts. yours, yes, you. cheers. god. peace out

#saltburn #cattonquick #quickstart #oliver quick #farleigh start #felix catton #venetia catton #mine #saltburn journaling

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rosyblooom · 2 months

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a in anniversary is for apple pie! | cl16 smau

PAIRING: charles leclerc x wife!reader SUMMARY: charles and y/n return from their wedding anniversary dinner to find their daughter still awake and adamant about wanting the apple pie she was promised tonight! A/N: tysm for 500 followers🥹 pls accept this entirely sweet & happy fic as a token of my appreciation🫶

creds to @classiclitfreak for proofreading <3

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc Happy wedding anniversary to my beautiful wife, Y/N. You hold my heart in the palm of your hands, but I couldn't imagine it safer anywhere else. I'm excited for more, mon cœur 🙏❤️

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[ caption: Wow. ]

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[ caption: mon amour ❤️ ]

[ tagged: charles_leclerc ]

Fumbling, you struggle to insert the key into the lock, a task made unexpectedly difficult by your husband's impatience. His gentle kisses land on the nape of your neck, his soft whispers proving to be an unwelcome distraction. "Stop it! Can't you wait until we're inside?" you scold, attempting to maintain focus. But his arms remain securely wrapped around your waist, his affectionate gestures relentless. "Remember, we have to face the babysitter the moment we open the door."

"Mhm," Charles hums against your skin, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine and a suppressed smile to your lips. You curse silently at the six-inch heels you foolishly chose, your knees growing weaker with each passing second, the shoes only exacerbating the situation.

With a soft click, the door swings open, a rush of relief flooding through you as you silently thank your lucky stars. But before you can fully absorb the scene, the familiar sound of footsteps, accompanied by a beloved voice, reaches your ears.

"Maman!" Your daughter's enthusiastic embrace threatens to topple you as her tiny arms envelop your thighs. The warmth of Charles beside you momentarily dissipates as he steps back, a look of surprise crossing his features.

Running a hand through his beard, he gently tousles D/N's hair as he asks, "What are you doing up so late, love?"

Annie, your babysitter, interjects with a sheepish grin. "I'm sorry, I tried to get her to bed, but she insisted you guys were making apple pie tonight." She scratches the back of her neck, shrugging apologetically. "I did my best, but this little one is quite determined, as I've come to learn. Right, D/N?" Annie redirects her attention downward, addressing your daughter.

“You promised me apple pie, Maman!” D/N's insistent plea rings out, her small fingers grasping the fabric of your dress. “And I want it now! I want it now! I want it now!”

Kneeling down to her level, you gently place a finger to your lips. “Alright, D/N, I can hear you, but not so loud. Remember, at night-time, we use our inside voice, okay?” Tenderly, you intertwine your hands with hers, tracing comforting circles on the back of her hands.

D/N nods solemnly and whispers, “You promised me you’d make apple pie, and I want it now. Papa,” she turns her pleading gaze to Charles, releasing herself from your grasp and wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting all day for this, please, Papa.”

Motioning for you to handle the situation with Annie, Charles scoops D/N up, settling her on his hip before disappearing down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You straighten up, offering Annie an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry about that,” you say, reaching into your bag and retrieving an envelope labelled ‘Annie’s pay’. With a gentle gesture, you extend your arm, offering it to her. “This covers today, plus a tip, of course.”

Annie shakes her head, pushing the envelope back towards you. “I can’t accept this. I mean, I failed at getting her to sleep.”

“What?” You try to keep your voice steady, but frustration seeps through. “No, absolutely not.” Determinedly, you grasp her hand, pressing the envelope into her palm before folding it closed. “This is your money; you showed up today and did amazing, as usual. I promised D/N something, so that’s on me, really.”

She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Mrs. Leclerc?”

You let out a hum. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just Y/N. None of that Mrs. stuff in this house, please,” you chuckle, “you're making me feel old.”

“Right, sorry, Y/N,” Annie quickly corrects herself.

Satisfied, you nod. “We’re getting there… But yes, I am absolutely sure. You deserve every single cent. Seriously,” you emphasise, “you’re a huge help to my family.”

"Alright, thank you, Y/N," Annie retrieves her bag from the hook on the wall and opens the door. "Have a good night."

"You too, Annie. Thanks again."

With a sudden slam, the door startles you for a moment before you release a long breath. You kick off your heels, relieved to be free of the "death traps" as you call them. As your feet meet the cool marble floor, a wave of calm washes over you, releasing the tension from your shoulders. It's exactly what you needed. Feeling much better, you slip off your coat and hang it beside the door before making your way into the kitchen.

A short while later…

"Alright," you lean over the counter, your forearms resting on the cool top, a warmth spreading through your heart as you watch Charles holding D/N in his arms, gently swaying side to side as they dance.

"That's what your mum and I were doing after we finished eating," he whispers.

D/N's high-pitched giggles fill the room, her tiny hand gripping a couple of Charles' fingers. "I want to come next time," she says, turning her head towards you. "Please, please, can I come next time, Maman?"

"Yes," you smile, "of course. Next time, you'll join us for our little anniversary date, okay?"

"Yay!" your daughter raises her hands in excitement, her face beaming.

Recalling the original plan, you clap your hands together. "Alright, D/N, are you still sure you want apple pie tonight? Not tomorrow or the day af—?"

"No, no, no!" she interrupts. "I want apple pie now!"

"Okay, okay… Time to wash your hands then, honey."

D/N squirms in Charles' grip, and when he finally releases her, she races for the sink in the corner of the room, immediately flicking the tap on.

Charles chuckles at the sight before turning his attention to you, stepping closer. You straighten up from the counter just in time as his hands envelop you, trapping you between the counter and his body.

"Looks like our plans will have to wait until later, huh?" you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone as your fingers trail up his broad chest, halting on his black tie, starting to unravel it.

Charles leans down, his warm breath slipping into the gap between your parted lips, the sweet tinge of red wine coating your tongue. "Looks like it… But I can wait, mon cœur," his voice resonates breathily as he closes the remaining distance between your faces, his soft lips meeting yours, hungry yet gentle. The kiss is brief, barely lasting long enough for you to savour the moment, though he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging at it slightly before releasing his hold and pulling away.

Remembering your husband’s earlier impatience when you were struggling to open the front door, you fold his tie and set it aside before raising a single brow, asking, “Oh, can you now?”

Charles nods with a sly smile, but before he can respond, D/N beats him to it, diverting your attention as she waltzes towards you.

“Hands are washed!” she exclaims, shaking her hands dry.

"Good job, darling." You slip from Charles’ embrace, grabbing the kitchen roll off the counter and passing it to D/N. "Here."

Once you and Charles have washed your hands, you begin assigning roles. "Baby," you address your husband, pointing, "You’ll chop up the apples, and D/N…" You tilt your head down at your daughter standing in the middle of the kitchen, her smile brimming with excitement. "Do you want to make the shortcrust pastry with me, honey?"

To your surprise, D/N shakes her head and rushes to Charles’ side, her cheek pressed against him. "I want to do what Papa is doing. I don’t want to work with you, Maman."

The admission elicits laughter from you and Charles, his chuckles resonating loudly through the room as D/N pulls open a few drawers and retrieves a butter knife and a chopping board before settling down at the dining table, her back turned to you.

As you turn around, you feel Charles’ strong arms enclose around your waist, his warm hands settling onto your stomach as he whispers into your ear, "You heard the little lady. Everything's just so much more fun with her dad, you know?"

“Shut the fuck up” you quip, jabbing him with your elbow.

“I heard that!”

D/N's words cause you to pivot, fixing your gaze on the back of her head. “I’m sorry, D/N, I shouldn’t have said that,” you concede, shooting a discreet glance at Charles. “It’s just that your father has a knack for being an annoying sh—” You cut yourself off before the insult fully forms, forcing a tight-lipped smile as Charles's laughter reverberates. “Let’s just say, he can be an annoying husband sometimes, you know?”

“No! Papa is never annoying, you’re wrong,” she counters, shooting you a reproachful look before redirecting her attention to Charles, waving. “Come on, Papa, I really want apple pie. Hurry up, I’ve already started!”

“Coming, my love,” Charles murmurs softly, turning back to you and lifting your chin with a gentle touch. He places a tender kiss on your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “So, I’m an annoying husband, huh?”

You smile and give a nonchalant shrug. “I could've said worse, trust me.”

“Papa!” D/N's voice rings out.

Charles barely flinches at your daughter's outburst, only chuckling softly and shaking his head as he moves toward the dining table, grabbing a cutting board and a knife along the way.

“Guys, we only need about eight to ten apples!” you call out from across the kitchen.

Charles winks at you. “Perfect, we have nine.”

Without further delay, you gather the ingredients for a shortcrust pastry and begin to mix them together.

Some time later…

As you finish rolling out the second dough, D/N rushes over, balancing a large bowl of sliced apples in her arms, and exclaims, “Here, Maman! We finished!”

"Thank you so much, my love," you reply, guiding her to settle the bowl onto the counter before heading towards the oven to turn it on.

Charles lifts D/N onto the counter, and you reach into the cupboard to retrieve the cinnamon, salt, flour, and sugar, handing them to your daughter. With a few instructions, she sprinkles the ingredients into the bowl of apples and begins stirring eagerly.

As D/N continues, you feel Charles' arms wrap around you, and he mischievously pinches the side of your waist, prompting you to shriek and swat his hand away, shooting him a playful glare. "Stop that!"

Once everything's mixed together, D/N eagerly assists you in assembling the pie while Charles holds open the oven door for you to slide it in.

"Perfect," you exclaim, clapping your hands together. "We did really well."

D/N squeals with excitement, jumping up and down before extending her hand towards you, palm facing up. "High-five, Maman!"

You promptly oblige, meeting her hand with yours before she moves on to Charles.

Two hours later…

"Two scoops of vanilla ice cream on your slice?" you inquire, arching an eyebrow at your daughter, who struggles to keep her head up, her eyes fluttering closed momentarily before snapping back open.

"Huh?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes. "Yes, I'm starving, Maman."

You share a knowing glance with Charles, his dimples appearing as he smiles.

With a nod of understanding, you heap two scoops of ice cream onto her slice of golden apple pie, pushing the plate towards D/N.

Both you and Charles observe quietly as she struggles to eat even a single forkful before conceding defeat with a sigh.

Looking up from her plate, D/N's eyes flit between you and Charles, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "Actually... I'm not hungry anymore." Before you can respond, she hops up from her seat, declaring, "I'm tired. I’m going to bed now."

She gives Charles a goodnight hug, then comes to you, avoiding eye contact as she quickly embraces you. "Good night, Maman."

In the blink of an eye, she vanishes from the kitchen, her footsteps on the marble floor echoing faintly as she races down the corridor, until they're drowned out by the resounding slam of her bedroom door.

You and Charles share a glance, both of you unable to contain your laughter.

After the laughter subsides, you stand up, holding D/N’s plate, and remark, “I’ll pop this in the freezer.”

As you finish storing everything away, Charles rinses the final plate and settles it onto the drying rack. Patting his hands on a paper towel, he fixes you with a tender gaze.

Though you know it's irrational, a wave of insecurity washes over you, making you acutely aware of all your perceived flaws.

"I love you. Happy wedding anniversary to us, mon cœur," Charles' sweet words halt your anxious thoughts as he closes the distance between you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

Your breath catches as his tongue traces patterns across your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling at your flesh.

It takes considerable effort to suppress a moan, but you manage to respond, "I love you, baby. Here's to at least eighty more."

You feel Charles' smile against your skin before he raises his head, eliciting a whimper as the cool air grazes your now raw neck. Before the sound can fully escape, Charles silences it by pressing his lips firmly against yours. The tension that had built up earlier floods over you like a tsunami, his hands exploring your body as your tongues dance, vying for dominance, until he breaks away abruptly.

Both of you are left breathless.

Once he catches his breath, Charles extends his hand to you, which you grasp eagerly—you need all the support you can get to avoid collapsing onto the floor; your legs feel like jelly.

Noticing your predicament, Charles' lips curl into a proud smile, prompting an eye roll from you as he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, bridal style, and plants a tender kiss on your cheek.

"I think we should continue this in the bedroom, mon cœur," he whispers, carrying you down the hallway, anticipation making your teeth capture your bottom lip.

yourusername

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yourusername I've loved you three six summers now, honey, but I want 'em all... 💕

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charles_leclerc Sounds like a beautiful plan ❤️

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username if they ever break up, I'll stop believing in love cause wdym

username girl don't speak that shit into existence !! username wait you're right SRY I TAKE IT BACK PLSS

1:11 ───ㅇ───────── 3:25

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physalian · 2 months

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What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi #what no one tells you about writing

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milfsloverblog · 9 months

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Hii!! I have a Larissa x reader request. Larissa is in her late forties, has a shit ton of money (cause that woman screams money) and she's also a tad lonely, so she decides to find herself a sugar baby and that's where reader comes in, they are broke, almost finishing college and in need of quick money. I really just need this woman to pamper me with money and love and good sex, lots of mommy kink and out of the bedroom dominance pretty pleeeeeaaassseeee

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 1. (Next part)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

A/N: Anon, I loved this request so much I’ve decided to turn it into a multiple chapter fic. We’re mostly setting the scene in this chapter, but I added a tiny bit of smut. Thanks for the request, enjoy!! <3

You didn’t feel very proud as you clicked on the “sign up” button on the app your best friend told you about. You typed in your information - Name, age, height, weight, eye and hair colour. It did feel like you were only a product to be bought but it was what you were looking for, after all.

You filled in the “looking for” section - women, preferably. You didn’t care much about height or weight or anything like that, really, although you hoped you would be able to at least find someone attractive. But you couldn’t afford to be too picky.

It did feel like signing up for a normal dating app until you reached the “monthly income” criteria. This was by far the most important criterion, the one that had led you to this website, and yet you didn’t know what to answer. You stared at your phone screen for a moment before eventually typing in “Minimum $3500”. It felt like a correct amount, enough for someone to take care of themselves and you as well.

You uploaded a few pictures, a couple of selfies and one where your whole body was visible. You probably would have more chance of quickly finding someone if you uploaded a more revealing picture, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not yet.

You took a deep breath and clicked on the button that would make your profile public, watching the message that popped up on your screen - Welcome to Secret Benefits, the number one sugar dating app in America.

Your profile had only been public for a few minutes when you received your first like and inbox message. A man saying he would pay you a thousand dollars a week and didn’t want anything in exchange, only to chat with you. Your friend had warned you about this kind of scam so you simply rolled your eyes and reported the profile.

Browsing through the app you quickly realised that most people on there were men over forty searching for a pretty thing to parade around with. You knew it was the whole point of this app and those kind of relationships, but still.

It felt like you had been scrolling for hours when a profile finally caught your eye. Larissa, 48. Her picture was what first caught your attention. The woman was half-turned from the camera, holding a glass of red wine in her hand. Her white hair was tied in an intricate updo, her lips painted with a crimson red that matched her nails and her blue eyes fixed on the camera as if she had caught the photographer in the act of taking her picture. It almost felt like she was looking right at you. She looked beautiful.

You clicked on her profile, hoping to learn more about the woman. You read her body description, eyes widening when you reached the height criteria and read that she was 6’3. She looked like the type of woman who enjoyed wearing heels and you felt dizzy at the thought of a two metres tall woman towering over you.

You noticed that she had picked “Unspecified” for the monthly income. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly. Was she wary about sharing her income? Strange, given the kind of app you were on. Or perhaps she was old money. She did look wealthy, the kind of woman who would have grown up in a rich family and inherited it all.

She had listed a few of her interests in her bio. Art, luxury fashion and haute couture, feminism. There was a single sentence written underneath, one that had your breath hitch in your throat.

“I call myself a hedonist, I seek utmost pleasure in everything I do.”

And that was enough to have you hooked. You didn’t care about the other thousands of profiles on the website anymore. You only cared about her. Larissa, her sapphire eyes and crimson lips, her hedonistic lifestyle and promise of utmost pleasure, and most importantly - her money.

You clicked on the little heart next to her profile picture, like your friend had told you to do. Now you were supposed to wait and see if the woman would like your profile in return. You could have sent a private message straight away, but your friend said it was better not to, it would make you look too desperate. I am desperate, you thought.

It was only hours later, when you were freshly out of the shower and about to get into bed, that your phone pinged and you quickly grabbed it to check the notification.

Larissa liked you back! The start of a beautiful story?

You stared at the notification for a minute, what were you supposed to do now that she had actually liked you back? You weren’t even expecting to get that far when you signed up.

You sat down in bed still wrapped in your towel and took a deep breath. How were you even supposed to engage in a conversation with a woman like her?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a while. Everything you could think of sounded lame and you even considered calling your friend for some advice but it would have just been embarrassing.

You: Hi there! I came across your profile and was very intrigued by your sophistication and the way you described yourself. How has your day been?

That wasn’t too bad. At least you hadn’t sent a cheesy pickup line.

The little “seen” quickly appeared under your message and you bit your lip in anticipation.

Larissa: Good evening! Thank you for reaching out. My day's been quite busy with work, but I'm always up for interesting conversations. How was yours?

Okay, she had answered. She had liked you back and she had answered. Great, it was great.

You: I'm glad you're taking the time to chat. My day's been mostly filled with classes and hanging out with my friends, a normal day in the life of a college student haha. What do you do for work?

Larissa: I’d rather keep my work private, at least for now. But I promise I’m not doing anything illegal! College student, what do you study?

Well, that was a bit strange, although you could see why someone wouldn’t want to share their work field on this kind of app, there was no doubt those arrangements could ruin some people’s lives.

You: Sure, no worries! I study marketing. It’s not always easy but I enjoy it for the most part. I’m really curious about what brings you to this app?

The message was read almost instantly but it took the woman a few minutes to answer. Was she hesitant? Searching for the right words?

Larissa: I appreciate your curiosity. I'm mostly looking for a mutually beneficial arrangement where we can both enjoy each other's company and experiences. What about you? What are you looking for on here?

A mutually beneficial arrangement, that was certainly one eloquent way to put it.

Larissa: I'm seeking someone who can support me as I navigate my studies. I live on my own and have a job on the side but it’s getting really hard to finance everything alone. Plus, I think having someone older in my life, someone with more experience, could only be beneficial. It’s all about benefits and enjoying the finer things, isn’t it?

Larissa: It is! I suppose it’s the main reason why so many young women are on this app. Tell me, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?

You: Well, I honestly don’t really get much free time. But I like to sit down with a nice book whenever I can. I enjoy going for walks and I could spend hours in the kitchen cooking and baking. What about you? Any favourite ways to unwind?

Larissa: I don’t get much free time either if I’m being honest. I’m a busy woman. I do enjoy sitting by the fireplace with a book and a glass of red, one of life’s simple pleasures. I love exploring art galleries, trying out new restaurants and I sometimes, although very rarely, indulge in spa retreats.

Spa retreats? These things cost a fortune! You were lucky if you could indulge yourself in a night out with your friends!

The two of you kept exchanging for a while. You learnt that Larissa was British, that she had moved over here for her studies. She loved travelling, had been to many places around Europe and was a big fan of French cuisine. She felt like the kind of woman you could listen to for hours without ever getting bored.

It was getting late, your eyes were practically closing themselves and you knew you would be absolutely exhausted in the morning, but you didn’t want the conversation to end.

You had been talking for nearly two hours when the woman asked if you had ever dined at Ambrosia, a restaurant way out of the centre of Jericho. You snorted loudly as you searched the restaurant on Google and realised it was a gastronomic one. Did she really think you could afford that kind of place?

You: No, I’ve never been there. But I’ve just googled it and it looks like a nice place!

Larissa: It’s my favourite restaurant in Jericho, I think I must have tried everything on the menu by now. Would you like to join me there for dinner, let’s say on Saturday night?

Saturday night? You quickly checked your schedule, you were working at the bar that day.

You: I would love to, I really would love to, but I’m working that day and I can’t miss a shift…

Larissa: If it’s about the money, you don’t need to worry. Call your work tomorrow, let them know they will need to find someone to fill in for you on Saturday.

You swallowed thickly. What if this was some joke? What if you showed up at the restaurant and she wasn’t there? You would miss your shift, and lose money for nothing. But if she did show up…

You: Fine, I’ll call in the morning. What time should we meet at the restaurant?

Larissa: 6.30 pm? If you give me your address I will have a car sent for you. However, I understand if you feel wary about giving that kind of information to a stranger.

You did feel more than wary about giving her your address. For all you knew it could be some creep hiding behind that profile. But if you didn’t take the leap, you might miss a great opportunity. So you did it, you sent Larissa your address and thanked her for wanting to send a car.

Larissa: Thank you, darling. The car will pick you up at 6. I should probably let you get to bed now, I wouldn’t want you to fall asleep during one of your classes. Thank you again for reaching out, it’s refreshing to connect with you.

You: Thank you, Larissa. Likewise, I enjoyed our conversation. See you on Saturday!

You closed the app and took a deep breath. You were insane, absolutely deranged. Who in their right mind would agree to something like this so quickly? You groaned and pulled the duvet over your head. You’d think about this later, all you wanted at that moment was to sleep.

Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. Your friend had asked you if you’d had any luck on the app yet and you lied, telling her that no one seemed interested in you yet. Maybe you would tell her about your meeting with Rissa once it’d be done. Maybe.

You had exchanged a few more messages with Larissa the next day, just to keep in touch and let her know that you were looking forward to meeting her, and so was she.

The doorbell of your flat ringing woke you up early on Saturday morning. You quickly threw on some pyjamas and went to open, your eyebrows shooting up when the courier handed you a big cardboard box.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself as you placed the box down on your coffee table.

You grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and carefully cut the tape, holding your breath as you opened the box. There was a small note on top of something wrapped in gold tissue paper.

I picked you an outfit for tonight, I had to guess your size using your pictures but I’m pretty certain it will fit. I suggest wearing a pair of black heels with it. See you tonight, darling.

-Larissa

You had to read the notes a few times to make sure you weren’t just making things up. She had picked you an outfit, really? Did she think you couldn’t dress up on your own? Well, to be fair you weren’t sure you had anything chic enough in your wardrobe, but still.

You carefully opened the tissue paper and your breath hitched as you unfolded the black slip dress that she had picked for you. The silk fabric felt incredibly soft under your fingertips and the lace trim on the neckline was beautiful.

“Simone Rocha.” You read the tag out loud. The name did ring a bell somewhere in your mind, was that a designer dress? Well, at least now you knew the woman was serious about taking you out for dinner tonight.

You were about to close the box when you noticed there was something else in there. You picked it up, eyes growing wide at the sight of a burgundy thong. It was beautiful. Made out of lace and embroidered with floral details, it probably cost more than your whole underwear drawer.

You bit your lip looking at the two items of clothing in your hands. Maybe you could get used to this lifestyle.

The car sent by Larissa arrived at your place at 6 pm sharp. You quickly put on your heels, fixed your lipstick, and took a last look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fitted you like a glove and you had rarely felt that beautiful in a piece of clothing, you looked expensive.

Hundreds of thoughts were rushing through your brain as you sat in the back of the car and absentmindedly looked outside the window.

And suddenly it hit you - would Larissa be expecting sex from you? Your eyes widened at the possibility. You had not talked about this. Sure, the woman had said she wanted someone to spend time with, but spending time with someone could mean a lot of things!

You were almost thinking about changing your mind and going home when the car pulled over and the driver let you know that you’d reached your destination. You took a look at the building outside and swallowed thickly. There was no going back now.

You thanked the driver and stepped outside, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You were halfway to the restaurant door when you heard your name being called, causing you to spin on your heels.

“Larissa?” You asked as your eyes landed on the woman walking towards you. She looked just like her picture - tall, elegant, beautiful.

“Yes!” She smiled and nodded.

Noticing that she looked you up and down, you allowed yourself to do the same. She was wearing an emerald fitted dress that perfectly hugged her waist and hips. Her legs had to be the longest you’d ever seen, they seemed to go on and on until you finally reached the silver heels that were on her feet.

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled back, feeling a bit awkward and not knowing what to say.

“Likewise.” Larissa answered and pulled the door open to let you in, her hand falling on the small of your back as she followed you inside.

Everything inside the restaurant reeked of wealth. The high ceiling, the polished wood floor and the leather seats. You were out of place and you felt like everyone around you knew it.

“Miss Weems, good evening!” A waiter flashed the woman a bright smile. “Your usual table?”

“Good evening, Adam. Yes please, the usual.” Larissa nodded and her hand on the small of your back gently pushed you, signalling for you to follow the waiter.

You sat down at the table and could immediately tell why it was Larissa’s favourite table. It was at the back of the restaurant, in a quieter space, and it had a perfect view of all the other tables.

The waiter brought the menu almost immediately and made a few suggestions as he poured two glasses of water. You could feel the older woman staring at you as you opened the menu and flipped through the pages. Everything was expensive, a whole three-course meal in this place would cost as much as your biweekly grocery budget. It was insane.

“Anything tempting you?” Larissa smirked, a strange glint in her eye.

“Um…Yes, yes there is a few things that sound really good.” You nodded and pushed an awkward smile.

“The dress suits you perfectly. You picked the perfect shoes to go with it.”

A blush crept up your cheeks hearing the compliments and you pushed out a shy “thank you”.

“Are you wearing everything that I picked?” Larissa asked, her head slightly tilting to the side.

Her eyes briefly dropped to your chest - no bra, that was the right choice for this kind of dress. Larissa was pleasantly surprised. She had purposefully chosen not to include a bra in the package but she wasn’t sure if you’d wear one of your own.

“Yes,” Your cheeks turned a deep red, not far from the colour of the thong you were wearing. “I’m wearing everything you picked. Thank you, by the way, I loved your selection.”

Larissa’s nostrils flared and she let out a satisfied hum, looking up when Adam reappeared by your table.

Larissa went first, there were far too many French words in her order for you to understand properly, but you enjoyed hearing her accent. It was like honey dripping from her lips. When you snapped out of your thoughts, the waiter was looking down at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to place your order only to be cut off by the tall woman’s voice.

“She will have the seared foie gras as an entrée, followed by the filet mignon - medium rare - with grilled asparagus, and the passion fruit mousse for dessert.” Larissa said, her sapphire eyes looking at you above the menu.

Your mouth dropped open. First, she had picked your whole outfit down to your panties, and now this. I want control, she had told you in one of her messages. You hadn’t really understood what it meant at that time, but you did now. You would never admit how turned on you were as you closed your menu and handed it back to the waiter who gave a polite nod and walked away from your table.

“You’re staring, darling.” Larissa pointed out, making you close your mouth and look away for a second.

“Sorry, I-“

“You weren’t expecting that?”

“Yeah…”

Larissa let out a soft chuckle and reached out, crimson nails taking hold of your chin to make you look at her.

“When we meet, if we meet again, I would like to be in charge of those things.” She simply said.

“In control, you mean?”

The woman’s nostrils flared again and she gave a small nod.

“Yes, in control. I do enjoy knowing you’re wearing something that I picked for you, that you will be tasting what I want you to taste.”

There was something almost erotic in the way she said it, something that sent a shiver down your spine and had your eyes dropping to the woman’s lips, watching them curve in a smirk.

“I wanted to ask-“ You mustered the courage to say. “If you would be expecting…more than just my company.”

“Sex?” The word sinfully rolled from her tongue.

“Yes.” You let out in a whisper.

“Would you like to have sex with me?”

Maybe.

“No.” It instinctively slipped from your mouth. “This is not the kind of arrangement I’m looking for.”

“Well, then I’m not expecting sex from you, no.” Larissa simply answered. She seemed sincere, like she really had not been expecting anything more than your company.

What if you had said yes, though? Would she have sex with you if you ever changed your mind? You swallowed thickly at the thought and picked up your glass, taking a couple of sips of water.

Larissa asked about your day and if you could explain what your studies consisted of, which you happily did. You told her about economics, and how you had learnt about analysing consumers and competitors. You were sure that it was boring, having to listen to these things when you weren’t involved in marketing, and yet Larissa’s eyes never left you. She gave a nod here and there, and asked more questions when something wasn’t fully clear to her. She seemed genuinely interested in you, and it felt nice.

“Thank you, Adam.” Larissa smiled when the entrées were placed on the table.

You looked down at your plate, it was beautifully presented and smelled incredible. What was it again?

“Seared foie gras,” Larissa said as if she could read your mind. “Enjoy, darling.”

“Thank you, enjoy!” You answered and picked up your fork to try the foie gras. You remembered having tasted it once, years ago at a wedding. But it didn’t taste this good in your memory.

Larissa watched your every move. She watched you push the fork inside your mouth, how you closed your eyes when the food filled your tastebuds. The foie gras was exquisite, the woman knew it, and she relished in the pleased hum that escaped you.

“What do you think?” She said, eager to hear your thoughts.

“It’s delicious, thank you for picking it.” You answered honestly, causing Larissa to let out a shuddering breath. Was she getting off on this?

The rest of the meal went smoothly. Larissa seemed determined to keep most of her life private, only answering a couple of your questions, often with well-thought answers that wouldn’t give out too much. It seemed like she enjoyed hearing you talk about yourself, though, for she asked you question after question throughout the evening.

“Thank you for tonight, Larissa.” You said when the two of you walked out of the restaurant. She had paid for the whole bill and, even though you had expected it, it still brought a blush to your cheeks.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer against her, walking with you towards her car. She had convinced you to let her drive you back to your flat, although it hadn’t taken much for you to agree to it.

You sat down in the passenger seat of her Chevrolet and stayed quiet as Larissa turned on the engine and drove away from the restaurant. A silence fell between you, it was a bit uncomfortable until the older woman turned the radio on and a familiar new wave song filled the car.

Larissa softly hummed along to the tune and her hand moved to rest on your leg, just above your knee, her thumb soothingly rubbing your skin. You didn’t think you would love it as much as you did, but her hand was warm against your flesh and it simply felt right.

“I think we’ve arrived.” Larissa said as she pulled over in front of your flat.

“Mm? Oh, yeah, yes!” You nodded taking a look outside. You had been lost in your thoughts for the entirety of the ride.

Larissa leaned over and pulled something from the glove compartment before handing it to you. It was a small golden envelope with your initials handwritten on it.

“For your missed shift.” She smiled and placed the envelope in your hand.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm. Now go, get some rest.” She purred. “I will text you later.”

“Goodnight, Larissa.” You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before eventually placing a kiss on the woman’s cheek.

“Goodnight, darling.” She squeezed your thigh and watched you step out of her car, waiting until you were inside the building before she drove away.

You closed the door behind yourself and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It had gone…surprisingly well. Larissa was truly charming, she was intelligent, eloquent, and wealthy. And she was breathtakingly beautiful.

You stepped out of your heels and walked through your flat, dropping the envelope on the kitchen counter before you made your way to the bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

Thoughts of the older women flooded your mind as soon as you stepped under the hot water jet. Was she home already? What was she doing? Had she enjoyed her evening? You were pretty sure that she had. More than once you had caught her pupils dilating as you thanked her for what she had picked for you, whether it was the food or the clothing. Was she thinking about you right now like you were thinking about her?

Would you like to have sex with me? - her voice echoed through your mind and you whined, dropping your hand between your legs. There was a sense of urgency in the way you fucked yourself as you thought of Larissa being in control of you, your food, your outfit - God, you’d probably let her take control of your whole being if she asked for it.

“Fuck- Larissa!” Her name rolled from your tongue as you reached your climax, leaving you panting heavily against the shower wall. It was depraved, you thought, fucking yourself thinking of a woman you had just met.

The same thought crossed Larissa’s mind as she slowly pulled her fingers out of herself, pushing them between her lips to lick them clean. It was depraved, but you had looked so good in the dress she’d picked for you and you had been so thankful all night long.

The tall woman opened a kitchen drawer, pulled a cigarette out of it, and lit it while she poured herself a glass of red with her other hand. It usually was either one or the other, but tonight she really needed both. Larissa was hooked, she couldn’t help herself, she loved taking care of a pretty thing.

You grabbed the envelope from the counter on your way to bed, opening it once you had settled down under the duvet. Two hundred dollar bills fell on your lap, making your eyes widen. This was almost double what you’d have made for your shift tonight. You bit your lip and put the money back into the envelope before shoving it inside your bedside table. Maybe you could get used to this, spending time with a beautiful woman and being paid for it. What was that thing she said? Ah, yes, to seek utmost pleasure.

———————————————————————

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#gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa weems x y/n #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #sugar mommy Larissa #secret benefits

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bangaveragewhitewine · 3 months

Text

the boy is mine (amy's edition)

Written as part of @carolmunson ‘s the boy is mine writing exercise which is such a fun and gorgeous idea!

wc: 1,800

contents: love-sick best friends turned lovers, set in 1985 (there's an angstier version of this in my drafts...), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), Eddie's boner mention, kissing until your lips hurt

notes: Well, I’d love to lie and say that this was a breeze, but writing has been incredibly difficult for me lately. Fighting with myself comes easier than writing these days, but this is a really fabulous idea. Feeling ✨part of something✨ is really special (and a little daunting). Thank you, Carol 🩷

the scene: a romantic night-in at the trailer.

the guidelines: prompt, props and dialogue are all here

April 1985

You watch silver smoke curl and melt into the air as the cigarette burns between Eddie’s lips. The scent of it cuts through the lingering fug of weed and sex and sweat. His hands are busy with pen and paper, jotting lyric ideas into his little notebook.

It feels a little bit romantic that he is so inspired after fucking you.

Your chilly feet rub together beneath the covers. It’s hard to resist the urge to stick them between his shins but you don’t want to ruin his artistic flow by shocking him with your arctic toes.

Fade to Black plays from the boombox on his messy dresser. Eddie had wound the tape back to restart the almost seven-minute track after the first listen-through and grinned unapologetically when you rolled your eyes at him. His head bobs to the beat as he scribbles and you shift your attention to a particularly perfect curl lying across his shoulder, the dark black ink pressed into his skin.

If your camera were closer, you would snap a picture of him. But for now, you store the image of him away in your mind. In twenty, thirty, forty years, you will remember tonight and smile. There’s a whole life ahead of you to plan with him, and you’re pretty sure Eddie wants in on it too.

“Your Mama never told you it’s rude to stare, princess?” he asks, rereading what he had just spilled onto the page. He clicks the pen three times before folding the notebook closed. His wave of inspiration has peaked and you are, once again, his sole focus.

“Maybe. Probably.” You shrug one shoulder before taking the cigarette from between his lips.

The way your lips hug the filter makes Eddie’s body thrum to life all over again. When you lean across him to tap off the ash, he takes his chance to pull you against his chest and lock you into his lap, closer than close. The cigarette is left to burn out as you trade smokey, wet kisses back and forth between smiling lips until you are both laughing at nothing, at everything. At that little whiney noise lodged in the back of Eddie’s throat, and the way he taps the opening bars of Trapped Under Ice against your bare body.

That throaty, dirty laugh makes you feel warm all over. His cheeks are rosy-warm and cherubic when he smiles at you. You want to nibble them but settle on gentle kisses instead. His eyelids and forehead are next, then his nose, before you work your way back to his lips. It’s a tender moment after those almost unstoppable giggles, rib-aching and eye-watering laughter that comes easy when you’re with Eddie - more free-flowing when you’re still a little bit faded.

“Want the rest of that pizza?” Eddie asks after a few moments. His mouth has been busy kissing your neck and shoulder, and the way his breath catches on damp patches makes you shiver.

A few more smiling kisses are traded before you vacate the cocoon of body-warm blankets together to don discarded sweaters and underwear. Eddie glues himself to your back in a penguin shuffle to the kitchenette to raid the forgotten pizza box and the stash of munchie-friendly snacks stowed away in the cupboard.

The formica feels cool against the back of your thighs as you chew thoughtfully on the cooled-off slice. There are empty cans of High Life on the table between the melted candles; Eddie’s romantic ideas of tea lights and the champagne of beers had set the butterflies in your stomach swirling when you stepped into the trailer that evening. The VHS cases and TV remote are lost between the couch cushions and throw pillows, cast aside before you could even decide what to watch in favour of making out hot and heavy.

Eddie holds up two soup-recipe mugs. “I ran out of like, nice cups, this okay?" he asks.

The unwashed everyday mugs are abandoned in the sink and Eddie’s own Garfield mug is a quarter full of flat soda on his dresser. You know better than to suggest one of the collectables perched high on the shelves and hooks in the living room, and Eddie does too. Wayne is still irked about the cracked commemorative Moon Landing mug. It’s been glued together and sits safely on a higher-up shelf since thirteen-year-old Eddie had wanted to impress you, his new friend, with hot cocoa.

You look back at the bowl-cups, and wonder if anyone ever used the recipe on the front. “They are nice. I’ve always wanted to drink not-soup out of these. Feels illegal.”

Everyone always said he would be a bad influence on you, drag you down. They never saw that soft side to Eddie Munson, but you did. Using soup bowls as cups is far from ritual sacrifice and grand theft auto.

When he looks at you, perched on the counter in his hoodie and no pants, eating cold pizza, he feels like he might be looking at an angel. Your post-sex hair is your messy halo.

He comes to stand between your thighs and you feed him a bite before pushing his bangs back to kiss his forehead simply because you want you. Because you can now. Now that the pretence of being just friends has finally (finally) been dropped. Everything about your night together - now that you are together - is pretty similar to how it’s always been. Pizza and laughing until your ribs hurt, smoking enough to make you loose-limbed and ravenous. You spend less time looking at his lips and fingers and wondering what they feel like; you know now, and get to sample any time.

He steals one more bite before popping the lid on a can of Betty Crocker vanilla frosting from the cupboard. It has been a solid fixture of your garbage-food fixes since you and Eddie were fourteen and fifteen and home alone with a stack of horror movies to watch; Betty and two spoons, maybe some peanut butter or salty chips for balance. Now there is always a can in the cupboard, in your house and in the trailer, for when the cravings hit. When you move to Indy together after graduation, it’s top of your grocery list.

Eddie feeds you the first spoon, hovering it in front of your lips so you will come and take it. He feels a little like a pervert when he watches you eat it, lips around the cold metal and your eyes closed. You know exactly what you’re doing, doling out a little payback for Eddie getting distracted with his lyrics and set-lists while you were cuddling.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” you ask, tongue thick and coated with sweet vanilla.

“Just appreciating the art, sweet thing,” he fires back, winking at you before taking a bite of frosting. His brows pull in like he’s pondering something. “Mm. Wonder if there’s a Mr Crocker…”

You shove his head as he cackles that goblin-laugh of his and you try not to smirk at the same joke he’s been telling for years.

“You want an older model, Munson? Karen Wheeler’s been looking pretty dolled up lately…” You take the spoon, tapping it against your lip as Eddie pulls a face.

“Oh yeah, MILFs of Hawkins, come get me.” Eddie rolls his eyes before sliding his fingers up your bare legs to find the soft curve of your waist. “Only girl for me is riiight here, baby. You’re all the woman I need.”

He’s pressed up close with his chin resting against your chest, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

“Better tell O’Donnell that. I think she has a crush, s’why she keeps giving you detention.”

“You’re a fuckin’ sicko.” Eddie’s reverence shifts into a scowl as he rests against your chest, but softens again when your fingers slide into his hair, coaxing him to relax and melt against you.

“And you like that?” you ask.

“I do.”

Eddie can feel the sped-up thud of your heart beneath his ear, matching the beat of his own. A peaceful moment settles over the kitchen.

Until a tendril of mischief unfurls inside you. Imitating that nasally, cringe-inducing voice of O’Donnell blended with something a little breathy, you whisper in his ear, “Edward Munson. I want to see you after class. You’ve been a very bad boy…”

He steps back from you, hands over his ears so he can’t hear any more of your teasing. It’s cold without him all wrapped up and pressed against you.

“Divorce. Divorcing you. Get out.”

Your cheeks ache, like when you’ve had a lollipop lodged there for a little too long. It’s sweet and cloying like the joy you take from riling him up like this. “Aw, don’t be like that!”

“Too late. I’m taking the house and the kids.”

“That’s not even…” you cut yourself off, laughing too hard, and Eddie can’t even hide his own smile; he can’t buy into his own dramatics when you sit glowing on his kitchen counter, damp-eyed from laughing so hard (even if it is at his expense).

“M’sorry, sorry. Don’t divorce me.” You pout and open your arms out, grabby hands poking from the too-long sleeves until he slopes back between your legs and folds against you. Your mind wanders briefly to a future where you’re Mrs Munson; it sounds nice.

As stubborn as he can be, Eddie thaws after a few sweet kisses cut with quiet little murmurs of ‘forgive meee’. You feed him another spoon of icing as a sign of peace, sweetening him up just a little more before licking what’s left off of the tip and edge.

You feel his hands squeezing tighter on your hips, bringing your attention back to Eddie and away from the frosting.

“Hm?”

“If you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem.” He sees your confused expression and taps the spoon. “I’m gettin’ jealous. Of a spoon.”

You can feel the problem, warm and thick against your leg. It does not feel like much of a problem, and you both can think of a few tried and tested solutions to make it all better - a few more to be explored are jotted on a page of another small notebook tucked away in Eddie’s drawer.

“Is it a problem? Really?” you ask, head tilted with the metal tap-tapping against your lips before you go in for another indulgent scoop.

“Okay, I’m cutting you off.”

The spoon is snatched and thrown, and it clangs against the mugs in the sink as Eddie takes your hands and hauls you down from the counter. You taste vanilla on his tongue, sharing the sweetness with you as you stumble blindly back to his room.

thank you for reading🩷reblogs, likes and comments are welcome and cherished!

Don't forget to check out the rest of the fics from the challenge!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #bangaveragefics

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spliffymae · 3 months

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rapper!onyankopon.

just some head canons i have.

in my head im imagining a blend of dave and fridayy, where he can sing as well (he got variety!). same universe as my musicproducer!connie fic but reader is not famous here, as opposed to w/ connie’s. (lol i gave her a last name too—davis.) in my mind, im picturing ony from the uk and connie from ny.

★　*　　°　　　　🛰 　°. 🌓　•　　.°•　　　🚀

rapper!ony who first pops up on the scene in a music video of his friend connie’s song. he wasn’t featured on the track, but rather just in the background getting hype with everyone else.

but y’all know how the girlies get when a fine black man/woman/person start trending.

rapper!ony who wasn’t shy about his craft, but just wasn’t big on social media. his agent hated it, he loved it. he simply released music, let people know, and then went about his business.

rapper!ony was trending and although he didn’t take this as an opportunity to get in his social media bag, his best friend, musicproducer!connie did!

rapper!ony who goes from a couple thousand people knowing what he does to over a million people screaming his lyrics at they’re phones on tiktok in ONE night.

“bro, you can’t even get mad at me gang!” connie yelled from his shower. ony was sitting outside, accosting his friend for what he did. “you said you didn’t care what happened to the project!”

“but tell me if you gon post it and make it a whole thing, nigga damn!” ony yelled back.

rapper!ony who now has to adjust to his quickly rising popularity. he has yet to know the number of artists looking for a feature; and he doesn’t know that he secretly has some of these industry boys shaking in their boots because where the hell he come from?

no, rapper!ony is too busy focusing on whyyy they’re a million fan edits of him across tiktok and instagram. clips of him from his streams, connie’s videos, and his other friend’s content.

ony groans as connie’s message banner pops up on his phone, the message being a link to a tiktok. when he clicked it, it was a fan edit of him using his song ‘when it comes to you’. “bro, who keeps sending these to you, man?!” ony exclaimed. connie heard it from his room and snickered.

rapper!ony who had to adjust to being the attention at these red carpet events. he usually just walked behind connie and his girl, along with the rest of the entourage but now he is getting stopped for photographs.

there’s nothing like listening to music live. so rapper!ony puts on a fake smile and pushes through the crowded carpet to get inside. he waves to people he’s worked with, artists, and fans who called out to him. all so he can hear some music.

he sees connie holding hands with his girlfriend, both of them making goofy faces at the cameras. he softly smiles at the couple, but before he could make way, connie somehow senses him and turns to him “ony! ven aquí!” damn!

rapper!ony who doesn’t expect much from the awards show. just to go, support connie, and go home. he was nominated,yeah, but he was also in the category with some of the most popular artists right now…so he wasn’t feeling all that confident.

rapper!ony who is shocked as shocked can be when his name is called from the podium for best new artist.

“F**CK YEAH!” connie yelled, jumping up from his seat along with his girl and the rest of the table—aran, zora, jean, armin, and mikasa.

rapper!ony who walks up on stage with connie who is still screaming from excitement.

“uhhh, i’m not gonna lie, mans weren’t expecting to win still.” ony laughed, running a hand over his fresh waves. the audience laughed with him.

“first i would like to thank God, the most high who has blessed me with this amazing opportunity. i want to thank my people for having my back; connie—this man,” ony pointed behind him to connie, who was full out filming the moment on his phone.

“who told me on a random day when we were cleaning out our college dorm room that if we made a project together we would be the new heartthrobs of the generation. connie i thank you for being you; having my back and working alongside me. my brother for life, that is.” connie screamed, and so did his girlfriend from the audience as the claps poured in.

“and finally, i want to thank my heart in human form. the woman who made all of this possible, y/n davis. she don’t like the attention so im gonna hear bout this name drop when i get home. but babes, i love you, and thank you for being my rib. i owe you the world and more. and to her parents, thank you for my better half. thank you lot again. love!” ony raised his hand with the award, smiling and waving to the crowd and cameras as he walked to the back.

meanwhile, across the country, cuddled up in her bed was y/n, who was watching the award show before going to sleep. she had expressed to ony she wasn’t too sure about going, not liking the cameras and attention. he reassured her it was okay because there wasn’t any way he would be winning with who else was in the category.

so…safe to say when you saw your boyfriend on the stage with the award in his hand, you could not contain your shock and excitement. you jumped out of bed screaming and quickly getting to your phone camera to record the tv. squeals and “yeah baby” was all you could say as he gave connie his thanks.

but then… when you heard him say your name, for everyone around the world to hear, everything just turned to shock as your phone fell from your frozen hands, still recording. you were stunned. he said your name. your government name. on national television.

“ONY!!!”

#🌞🍃spliffymae #ony x black reader #ony x y/n #rapper!ony #music producer connie #au #anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #attack on titan #onyankopon #onyankopon x black!reader #aot

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 2 months

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Ex-Boyfriend John Price MiniFic

Thinking of your ex-boyfriend John Price seeing you again for the first time after a nasty break-up that essentially didn't go as planned by him.

You knew what you were getting into when entering a relationship with a man who was a workaholic. You knew it was always a priority but you never thought that it had to be an ultimatum between you and that, clearly you were an idiot to think you were more important.

If only you hadn't asked his friend, why was he prolonging his time with you if his decision was set to end it with you when he got the promotion? What exactly would change in that short amount of time?

That night ended in screams, no matter how much John tried to tell you he loves you, it fell on deaf ears. "Actions speak louder than words" was always the saying and you know what? That applies to this, it applies to everything he's ever made you felt and the lack of exchange.

You tried so hardly to not discredit the past, but maybe he just used you. He only tolerated your love like it's a minor convenience for him, you were already there, it's not like he could be picky on who chooses to take care of him.

But who cares right? That was three years ago and you two live separate lives now. John was out there doing god knows what with his colleagues drinking his nights away as he took another woman in bed every night in hopes to drown you out his mind.

If it wasn't for his friend's influence that one drunken night, John wouldn't have said yes to attending a black-tie event. Wasn't ever his thing really, fancy settings with stuffy clothes.

He tried to fit in as far as he could, pretending to stare at whatever painting or sculpture he can spot when in reality no thoughts or feelings except one thing.

He was never one to appreciate or understand what most art try to convey but he once knew someone who did. This was a place you would've thrived in and maybe some part of him wanted you to be there, some sick joke life was playing really.

His whole body froze right as he knew it. There you were, that silk baby pink dress that just made you glow paired with that white fur shawl that he remembers you showed off to him. How adorable you were telling him that it caught your eye and might be useful at a formal event.

Something he thought he'd only ever see in his dreams again.

Barely blinking as you stared at the painting mounted on the wall with this golden frame, you expression deep in thought yet your eyes were glassed with admiration.

What does he do? Without thinking, he stepped forward in hopes that his body would be strong enough to be able to approach you.

He was about to when.. a man approaches you, embracing you from behind. You were caught of guard but you quickly realize who it was and it was clear to John what your familiarity was with this man.

The image of the man burying his face on the nape of your neck was more than enough to cruelly twist the knife in his heart that's been lodged there for the past 3 years.

Those three words uttered by the man, loud enough for John to hear, the same one you'd always tell him but he rarely returned for a reason he himself is unaware of.

The sound of the camera clicks snapped Price out of his trance, paparazzi, who wouldn't want to capture an intimate, romantic moment between a couple who both happened to be rich?

He couldn't do anything to fix this even if he tried, for all he knew you were now in the arms of a influential, dangerous man who would destroy John's life if he wanted to. He gulps, not knowing what to do..

My CoD Masterlist

A/n: Was this inspired by that one scene from Twisted LIes?? Idk what you're talking about 👀 ALSO DON'T SPOIL ME, I'M ONLY HALFWAY THROUGH THE BOOK

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

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Unexpected (Vox x Fox Demon!Reader)

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Description: Vox tries to make a deal with Y/n.

Warnings: Valentino is his own warning. Um, slightly explicit near the beginning? Nothing too bad. Cigarettes.

Word Count: 2,928

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

A/N Considering the returns on my most recent poll, I figured I should get this slightly steamy little idea I've had for a while out there in the world.

Vox had never been one to make deals with lesser demons, to take their souls. No, that was Valentino's thing. Vox didn't need to own a soul to get a demon to do what he wanted for one, and for another, Vox didn't particularly like people. He preferred to work alone, to be alone. Life was much more productive that way.

The other Vees were different. Vox allowed them in his life because they were useful, they solidified and expanded his power. Anyone else was just a waste of time and space.

Speaking of the other Vees, Vox right now was on his way to visit Valentino. At Velvette's request, he was aiming to talk to the man about whatever scene he'd instigated at a club the night before. It just happened to be his luck because of course it was his fucking luck that the only spare moment he had to deal with the situation was when Val was filming.

Vox burst through the studio doors, making a beeline for Valentino who sat in a director's chair before the set. He was well practiced at approaching his business partner while the man was working and averted his eyes, trying his best to keep focus on the task at hand.

"Val." he hummed in irritation as he came to a stop beside the moth demon's chair, "What did you do last night?"

Valentino blew out a puff of pink smoke, fixing his eyes on Vox.

"Whatever do you mean?"

The feigned innocence coming from this man was laughable. Vox rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, to reveal what Velvette had told him. By chance, just at that moment, he happened to look away.

It wasn't on purpose. There had been a sound from the set that had involuntarily grabbed Vox's attention. His eyes widened, his screen glitching with fury as he turned back to Valentino.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked pointing to the set.

There, in the middle of the bed was a demon. That was far from unusual, as was the demon's half dressed state. What was unusual was the fact that the demon had been dressed up to look exactly like Vox himself. Well, not exactly. The actor had a box over his head with a fake screen on the front. A cheap costume but one that was most certainly supposed to be him.

There was another demon beneath him, a short thing with with wide eyes and the large ears of a fennec fox. It was then that the sound that caught his attention registered with Vox. Trapped under the other actor's arms, his lips to her neck, she had moaned his name.

"Hmm?"

Val lazily threw his gaze to the stage before smiling.

"Just my newest project. Don't you worry."

"Val, I am definitely worried. I want you to cancel this, right now."

"Oh comon Voxy!" Valentino pleaded, "Think of all the money it would bring in! Half of Hell wants to get dicked down by you for Christ's sake."

Vox folded his arms over his chest, actively not looking at the pair who were still on stage. They had not stopped what they were doing for the sake of the overlord's conversation and Vox was so high strung that he nearly flinched at the sound of fabric tearing.

"Val."

His voice came out deep and mangled, as if his speakers were turned up way too loud. Vox's eye twitched slightly in irritation, his hands clenched into fists. Valentino just watched him for a moment before sighing. Waving his hand, he turned to the stage.

"That's a wrap everyone!" he called and Vox turned to watch at the whole crew of demons, including the pair of actors, turned to their boss, "We're trashing this script."

If anyone had complaints, they dared not voice them before the two overlords. Slowly, the crew began to pack up.

"Thank you." Vox reluctantly said to Val.

His eyes were fixed on the two actors, something that did not escape Valentino's notice as he waved the words of thanks off.

"You owe me one."

"Whatever."

The man had pulled himself from the bed by now and discarded the false head he'd been wearing. With a kindly smile, he held a hand out to the girl he'd been on top of just moments before. She sat up, leaning back on her arms. Vox watched her lips move and though he couldn't hear what she said over the clamor, he assumed it must've been a joke as the other demon laughed.

Gently, and with much more grace than Vox could have thought she was capable of, she took the demons hand and brought herself off the bed. Vox's breath caught in his throat because of course, of fucking course, Valentino had decided to dress her like that.

If Val was good at anything, it was guessing someone's kinks just by looking at them. A party trick but in practice, very useful for his line of work. The demon was dressed in blue and red lingerie, running like twisting wires over her limbs, pressing gently into her skin in just the right way. The remnants of a black dress, the source of the earlier sound of torn fabric no doubt, lay in the imprint of her body on the bed. Vox didn't care if it was predictable, she looked fucking hot.

With that specific breed of confidence that seems only to belong to pornstars, the pair began heading toward the door. Muffled, as if through water, Vox heard Valentino ask him something.

"Yeah." Vox absently replied, tearing his eyes away from the pair and meeting Valentino's gaze.

Val smirked up at him knowingly.

"You alright there Voxy?" he hummed, "Fox got your tongue?"

"I am not going to deign that with a response. If you ever pull shit like this agai-"

"Yeah yeah. Doll!"

Vox followed Val's shifted line of sight to see that the girl had stopped by the door which was being held open for her by her scene partner. She turned to face Val, suddenly taking on a much more demure demeanor than she had previously displayed. Hands clasped before her, she met her boss's eyes across the expanse of the room.

"Yes?" she called, her voice like music.

"Val." he warned under his breath for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Valentino, of course, ignored him, seeking his own entertainment and profit above all else.

"Come here for a second, would you?"

She nodded, saying something to the demon behind her over her shoulder. With a shrug, he left the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Stepping carefully between the frantic workers, the girl made her way across the room to Vox and Val. She stopped before Val's chair, looking up at him through her lashes.

"What did you want to see me for, sir."

Her words were careful, perfectly annunciated.

"Back here in ten. You've got another job."

"Yes, Valentino." she replied, bowing her head just the slightest bit towards the man.

Val's wicked grin widened.

"Wear the white."

"Yes, Valentino."

It was like those were the only two words she knew. She treated the horrific man before her with the utmost respect, never once taking her eyes off of him.

"You may go."

Val waved her off with a lazy flick of his hand.

"Thank you, sir."

Another slight bow and the girl turned, her hair splaying out slightly at the ends from her sudden movement. As she made for the door once again, she shot a momentary glance at Vox. It was as if the world had stopped turning the second their eyes met. It felt like an eternity of him losing himself in their sticky softness. Then, she was gone.

Vox didn't understand what was happening. Sure, he had found people attractive before. He'd engaged in hookups, wasted time on the occasional relationship but nothing -- nothing -- had ever been like this. Every time he shut his eyes, there she was. Every spare second, his mind drifted to her. He found himself staring off into space, the image of that wry smile she had shot her costar as he had helped her off the bed burned into his memory.

The worst part was she was one of Val's girls and Val's girls were always trouble. The look they had shared, the scene she had been in, the way his name had sounded spilling from her soft lips, Vox knew it meant nothing to her. She had probably already forgotten it by now. The worst part was, it wasn't nothing to him. His muscles tensed at just the thought of the sound, at the idea of him being the one to actually make her beg for him rather than some cheap excuse for a facsimile. The worst part was, he didn't even know her name. In Val's gaze, she was just another body to profit off of. She was a doll, unworthy of any other title. The idea of someone seeing her so cheaply made him glitch because god, he had only met her once, but she was so much more than a toy. Vox was sure of it.

Wrapped in fantasy, he crafted an image of the girl. Vox imagined her patterns of being, what she must be like as a person -- so obedient but with that dry sense of humor he had attributed to her with no evidence save that she'd managed to make one person laugh in front of him one time. Vox never expected to see her again. He thought that the demon would be forever relegated to his dreams, to the recesses of his mind. He thought she'd be dead in a week, with Val's track record.

Vox pulled himself from his desk chair with a sigh. Three hours had passed and he just couldn't bring himself to be productive. She was a menace, a true vixen with those fox ears and tail to match. He would curse her very name for what she was doing to him if he knew what it was.

"Some fresh air. That's all I need." he said to the emptiness of his office, "Yeah."

The back doors of the Vee's building were seldom used, even by the people who worked there. Half the paparazzi didn't even know that they existed and so, he planned his escape. Of course it had to be his luck because it was always his goddamn luck these days wasn't it that the second he opened the door, it was to the smell of cigarette smoke and the image of a demon leaning against the building's brick exterior.

Vox let the door fall shut behind him with a heavy bang. The demon shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

"Escaping?" she asked.

He hadn't wanted anyone to see him. More importantly, he hand't wanted to see anyone, let alone talk to him. Vox sighed, adjusting his sleeves as he turned to face the demon fully.

She looked up at him, squinting slightly against the sun. Vox's heart stuttered in his chest. She looked... different and it wasn't just because she was fully dressed this time. There was no doubt about it however, this was the demon from the studio just a few weeks before.

None of the playful joy or diligent respect from their last encounter remained in her features, she just looked tired. Black jeans and a leather jacket, hair pulled up and away from her face, not a speck of makeup to be seen besides the smudged remnants of mascara beneath her eyes.

"You... you're that... you're one of Val's..."

"Victims?" she chuckled ruefully, "Yeah. I am."

"You're the one from..."

"Last week? Yep. Sorry about that, by the way. If it's any consolation, it was uncomfortable for us too."

Vox was speechless, stunned, utterly taken aback and completely blindsided. The exact thing he was trying to escape, standing before him and utterly contrary to his every previously conjured image.

"Want a smoke?"

"Uh, no thanks. Don't smoke."

The girl shrugged.

"Mind if I do."

"No."

She took another long drag, watching the smoke she blew out as it hung blue in the air. She shot him a sidelong glance.

"You just gonna stand there?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

She laughed. Vox wasn't expecting her to do that.

"S'pose I do."

The idea of a walk had long left Vox's mind. He leaned against the wall across from her in the cramped ally, watching as she anxiously checked the time.

"Goddamn."

She lowered her arm, shaking the sleeve of her jacket back over the watch and looking wistfully out towards the exit of the ally.

"Val?"

"Val."

"You seem... you're different than I expected you to be."

"Thats your fault for having expectations."

She smiled at him like a shark watching prey and he nodded his head to the side in mild agreement.

"What's your name?"

Her smile fell, eyes widening slightly. One of her ears twitched and Vox could hear the sound of her tail shifting against the wall. The world felt so far away. Right now, there was nothing else in existence except for himself, the ally, and the fox before him.

"Vix..." she bowed theatrically after a moment, "is my porn name."

Her eyes shot up to his as she finished her phrase, the same confident and, he now realized, performative smile curling the edges of her lips.

"But my parents called me Y/n."

The demon straightened herself up, holding a hand out to Vox. He regarded it carefully for a moment before placing his hand in hers.

"Vox."

"I know."

Y/n took a final drag from her cigarette, stamping the butt out on the ground beneath the heavy heel of her boot.

"Well," she sighed with one last look to the shock of sky they could see between the buildings, "I best be going. Nice meeting you."

"Wait!"

Vox hadn't meant to say it, nor had he meant to frantically latch onto her arm. Y/n flinched slightly under the contact, stilling before the door and turning back to him, her brow furrowed.

"Why do you..." he cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly pink, "How'd you end up... working... here."

Y/n laughed again. She had to admit, his flustered state was rather endearing, not at all what she had expected from one of the most feared overlords in all of Hell.

"For Val?" she asked and he nodded in response, "Same as every other wayward soul. He offered me something I couldn't refuse, and I was too naive to understand the price."

It took Vox a moment for her words to register with him, for her cryptic language to translate in his mind.

"He owns your soul?"

Y/n nodded once, all traces of amusement having fallen from her face.

"For what."

"Fame! Money! Riches!" she sarcastically called out with wild swings of her arms.

She stilled in her movements, a wry smile flashing across her face as she met his eyes again, her arms falling to her sides.

"Really?"

"Nah, I'm not that classy. I needed protection."

"From what?"

"Anything. I was new and I was afraid."

"And now you're trapped."

"Now I am trapped." Y/n concurred solemnly, "And I have to go."

"Do you want to go?"

Y/n thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"You're not what I expected you to be."

"Thanks?" Vox questioned after a moment, "I am not sure if you meant that as a compliment."

"Yeah."

It was a noncommittal answer and one that sent sparks of anxiety like shards of broken glass through him.

"I meant more so do you want to go to Val."

"Do I want to go get fucked by twenty guys or whatever he's gonna have me do? Of course fucking not. I don't really have a say in the matter so its not really important what I want."

"Of course it's important what you want."

Vox's mouth was moving a hundred times faster than his head. He couldn't seem to make it stop. Y/n's eyes went wide, she shook her head slightly as if ridding it of a thought.

"Maybe in another afterlife." she joked.

"What if... what if I could... fix this for you."

A pause, tense and full of longing. An intake of breath.

"What do you mean?"

"If you make a contract with another demon, Val's would be void."

"Another demon like you."

"Yes."

"I..."

She trailed off, looking up at him with wide eyes. Her tail wagged once happily behind her before all traces of hope were swallowed once again by the utter desolation.

"I dug my grave, Vox."

"But you don't have to lie in it."

He was practically begging her, his hand on her arm again. He couldn't recall when he had placed it there after her wild movements earlier in detailing her deal had thrown it from her. She looked down, examining the place where flesh made contact with leather. Y/n's eyes met his again, she shook him off.

"One deal is bad enough. Trading chains for chains doesn't change anything."

"But it could."

"Look, Vox. I have to go."

Y/n turned her back on him and opened the door. She hesitated for a moment, leaning on it's edge.

"It was nice to meet you."

Vox watched as she disappeared, the door slamming behind her.

----

A/N It doesn't matter if you guys want a part two or not because there will be one.

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 8 months

Note

Ok! Thanks.

Could you write a story where you and Charles are dating but nobody knows about it because you're a F1 journalist and are afraid to lose your job. On one race, Ferrari fucks him up and you have to interview him after it. You thought he would be mad but instead you saw a sad and disappointed Charles and his eyes and body movement were kinda begging for a kiss and a hug but you knew you couldn't do anything at that moment and your heart couldn't handle seeing him like that. But when you get to the hotel you are all his.

Just Hold Me - Charles Leclerc

A/N - This is Austin minus the DSQ because I could not handle that OK enjoy!

The media room wasn't fun at the best of times, let alone at the beginning of a race while you waited for the five red lights to go out. But, that didn't matter, since you adored your job. You got to live your dream, whilst travelling all over the world and to the most beautiful countries.

You travelled more in a year than some people did in their entire lives, and that was a privilege that you were unbelievably grateful to have. Whether it be the sunkissed sands of Australia, the glittering Monaco Marina, or the festival feel of Mexico, you were always in a beautiful part of the world.

It truly was your dream, and you were able to share it with the most unlikely of people. Athletes and celebrities alike didn't tend to like the press or interviewers. Journalists like you were paid to poke into their lives and ask pressing questions on air.

But, Charles Leclerc had unexpectedly taken quite a liking to the one Sky Sports F1 interviewer who he talked to after every race. Throughout the whole of the 2022 season, he looked forward to those post-race interviews. Yes, last season had been going a lot better than this season, and there were many more positive things to talk about, but he still enjoyed the few moments spent with you.

During the summer break, Charles had reached out to you after you had run into him in Monaco one day. He offered to do an interview about what he was getting up to over the weeks off, and your journalistic heart couldn't say no.

The pair of you had met up at a cafe, but no interview was conducted. You spent your time talking and getting to know each other better. You had talked to him numerous times, but only ever for those 5 minutes or less after a race.

He had disguised your next meet up a few days later as another opportunity to actually get your interview done, but it never came into fruition. You saw right through him, but never said anything. You quickly fell head over heels for the dashing driver just like he had for you, but you had agreed to keep your relationship secret.

It could have put your job in jeopardy, since your boss might think you would ask more favourable questions to Charles, or relinquish honesty in your articles in an effort to make him look good. There was also the added pressure of possibly being asked to write about his personal life, or what he's like behind the scenes just for a few extra clicks on those web articles.

As you were thinking about him, Charles just so happened to pop up on the screen as they showed him, sat in his car, on pole position. Charles' statistics in regards to him being on pole were less than flattering, but you had every faith in him.

It was times like these, as you watched him in his shining scarlet car, that you wished you could have been sat in the Ferrari garage, just like he had asked you to so many times. 'Just tell them it's for one of your articles or something' Charles would say whenever you declined.

If you sat in Ferrari one day, you would have to sit in every other garage. Also, there were people out there who would jump to accuse you of dishonest journalism, and that was something you prided yourself on avoiding. Being indicted of being bribed by Ferrari for information was the last thing you needed.

As the race progressed, it was looking more and more dismal. They had tried to put Charles on a one stop, but he was the only one who stuck to it when everyone else had abandoned the spur of the moment idea for longevity on track.

It didn't help that he had been jumped at the start by Lando, but he could have pulled it back if his tyres weren't dying a slow, painful death. He sounded less than impressed when they asked him to let Carlos by, and it wasn't a good sign when he said they should 'Talk after the race'.

To pin the nail in the coffin, they asked him to come in to change the tyres. You couldn't show any emotion, or cheer him on from where you were sitting. You just had to remain silently seething. You couldn't help but chuckle as he yelled that that would 'fuck up his race' and he just wanted to try.

That was something you admired about Charles. He always tried, even when things were tough like they were right now. When he crossed the line in fifth, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Fifth wasn't bad by any means, but he was hoping for a podium, and so was everyone.

You had to go and get into position, ready with your microphone in the media pen. Drivers rolled around, one by one, and your heart dropped when you saw Charles walking over. You thought he'd be angry, you thought he'd have that scowl of annoyance on his face.

But, he just looked downright dejected. He could barely look you in the eyes as he stood there, really not in the mood to answer your questions. "Charles, you had a tough race out there. How were you initially feeling about the one-stop strategy?" You asked as he listened to your voice.

It was soothing to him in some regards, hearing your voice could lull him into calmness for a short while. However, he wished you weren't asking those goddamn questions right now. "It sounded like a good plan, since George and Lando were on it, but we should have changed when everyone else did," he said, clearly not wanting to elaborate more than necessary.

"How do you feel about the race as a whole?" You asked, this time he was actually making eye contact with you. As he answered, he just had that glint in his eye that was begging for a hug and a kiss, just any form of comfort that he could get.

He didn't care that there were people everywhere, he didn't care who saw. He just wanted to fall into your embrace in search of solace. Just getting to touch you would put him at ease somewhat, but he knew it could cost you your job. Resisting the temptation was more difficult than he could have imagined, though.

You were struggling too. The urge to wrap your arms around him and make the pain go away was becoming unbearable. He needed you right now, but you weren't able to be there for him like you so desperately wanted to.

While he answered your final question before George came through, your job didn't seem all that important anymore. If getting to sit in the Ferrari garage every week, and getting to be with him in public meant you lost your job, then so be it.

Your heart ached for him, and you were struggling to remain a neutral interviewer. It was like it was being ripped out of your chest as you questioned him. Before you could break the facade and embrace him, Charles thanked you and moved on, probably going to have that aforementioned talk with Xavi.

Later on, you arrived back at the hotel before he did and got changed into more comfortable clothes as you waited for him. After what felt like hours, the door quietly clicked open, and Charles trudged through the room.

Neither of you said a word as you stood from where you were sat on the bed, and walked up to him. He fell into your arms, clasping onto you for dear life. You ran your fingers up and down his spine as you kissed the top of his head, glad to have him with you.

Charles was just glad to have your arms wrapped around his weary figure, feeling some of his worries melt away slightly. He had you now, and it made the stress and disappointment he felt somewhat bearable. You made a stormy day sunny for him, and his was pleased that he had found someone who could bring him that consolation. All he wanted to do after that absolute shitbox of a race was crawl into bed, and cuddle with you. "Do you want to order room service for dinner?" You broke the silence, pulling away from him so you could look at his face.

His cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were looking drowsy. They didn't have that usual brightess about them, the glowing joy being replaced by a tired dullness. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled, pressing his face back into the crook of your neck. You weren't too hungry either, so you decided you'd just deal with it. Charles needed you, and nothing was going to take you away from him. "How about you go and have a shower, and then we can just go to bed?" you suggested, as he nodded and hummed in confirmation.

He reluctantly detached himself from you, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. It was time to play the waiting game one more time, but not for as long. It wasn't often you saw him this melancholy and dismal, but even then he was usually more talkative.

Then again, he didn't need to talk to tell you how he was feeling. You could read his face and body language like a book, and it was clear he was very upset. The shower turned off, and a few moments later, the bathroom door opened and Charles emerged.

He clambered into bed beside you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your chest. He breathed heavily as he held himself as close to you as he possibly could.

You hated seeing him like this, and you wished you could unfuck the fuck ups that had happened. Anything to make the pain go away. "It's OK, baby, you did amazing. There was nothing else you could have done," you reassured him, but he didn't respond.

He simply hid his face from you, holding onto you even tighter. "You can talk to me, you know," you prompted, hoping he would open up. It might have made him feel better. "Tomorrow," he said, and you could just about see his eyes closing.

"OK, sweetheart, I'm here if you need me. Do you want a water or anything?" You asked, looking down at him. "No, I just want you to stay here," he said, and you were happy to fulfill his request. Having to wait that long to hold him was agonizing, but you were glad to have him in your arms now.

Maybe one day you'd be able to embrace him in the paddock, or after an interview, but that time wasn't now. Now, Charles needed you, and you would always be there for him.

A/N - Another request ticked off the list! Requests will be probably be taking a bit of time, since I will be writing the two Halloween Specials, but still feel free to drop them! I haven't gotten any Lando or Max ones... So they might be appreciated if you catch my drift. Have a wonderful day/night, and I love you 💖

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787 notes · View notes

bitchiswild · 7 months

Text

Ride

GP Yoo Jimin x F! Reader

Warnings: smut, creampie, racing , and probs other things 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 6.8k 😟

A/n: A LOT OF PLOT AND A LITTLE SMUT 😭

╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮

The night unveiled the mesmerizing beauty of the city as Karina and I zoomed through its streets. The motorcycle's roar echoed, seemingly announcing our presence to the entire city. Yet, in our youthful spirit, we disregarded it. Karina had injected adventure and excitement into my life, making every moment extraordinary. She's what makes my days and nights awesome, always bringing joy. I gotta thank Aeri for introducing me to Karina, even if we didn't hit it off right away.

•·················•·················•

“Wanna come along?” That’s all she said. Life always seems to dangle something new in front of me. Aeri pitched this idea, and I had no clue what was in store. Mysterious. But I trusted her completely; she’d been hustling and making some cash. It was our little secret. A game where the risk just added spice to the thrill. Kind of sketchy but exhilarating, you get me?

“You sure this is the right way?” I asked cautiously. We were heading down these shady, dimly lit stairs where the lights flickered oh-so-slowly."

"Yeah, I know the way. Been here a few times, no sweat!" she assured me, continuing down the steps.

As we got closer to the door, the music’s volume surged. Stepping inside, the booming bass hit us hard. The place was a riot of colorful lights, but there was this pervasive mix of gasoline and weed smell that wasn't too pleasant.

"Is this your usual weekend scene?" I quizzed Aeri.

"No doubt, I do. I'm here to help Karina gear up for her races," she said.

"Are you finally gonna introduce me to this Karina you're always on about?" I inquired.

"Absolutely! I'll take you to her now. Or would you prefer to check out the place first?" she asked.

"Let's take a look around first," I replied.

Aeri gave me the grand tour of this spot. I soaked it all in, kinda interested in this whole new vibe where everything's a bit of a gamble. It's all about the danger and excitement, you know? I find it pretty intriguing. This place, right before the race starts, it's got a vibe. But I did however, noticed how everyone's eyes are on us.

"Hey, what's with all the staring? Starting to weird me out a bit," I mentioned to Aeri, feeling a tad uncomfortable.

"They all know I'm friends with Karina. She's, well, let's just say she's a big deal around here. They call her the 'Queen' of racing," Aeri explained, and it all clicked for me.

"Can we bail, though? Feeling a bit too conspicuous," I suggested.

"Sure thing! Let's get you introduced to Karina; you two will hit it off, I'm sure!" Aeri exclaimed, ready to make the intro.

Aeri dragged me to this garage, all bright and half-open. She went and knocked on it like a maniac. ‘Karina! I'm here! Did you miss me?!’ Aeri shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Aeri! Keep it down! Get in here already,” the girl I figured was Karina snapped.

Aeri nudged me to step in first. I crouched a bit and walked into the garage. The garage was alive with various colored lights, yet one glaring light outshone the rest. Posters and tools adorned the walls, while a car occupied one side and a motorcycle sat on the other. The girl I presumed to be Karina was busy fixing something on the bike.

“Karina! Meet my bestie Y/n! Y/n, meet Karina!” Aeri introduced us, gesturing between us."

"Hey, Karina, nice to meet you. Aeri's told me loads about you, and don't worry, I won't spill anything that might get you thrown in jail," I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

"Hi," was all she replied before returning to her work on the bike, leaving me feeling a bit like a fool.

Naturally, I felt offended. I wanted to confront her, but I held back. I hardly knew her and picking a fight with Aeri's friend wasn't the right move. It'd make me a lousy friend.

"Don't stress, Y/n. Karina's just... like that. She's very... monotone, but she's cool. Give her some time to warm up to you. Honestly, I didn't spill that I spilled everything about her illegal racing," Aeri explained with an awkward grin on her face.

“ It's fine it didn't bother me," I lied, though it bothered me more than I let on.

"So, Karina, when's your next race?" Aeri asked.

"In about 30 minutes. You heading out or sticking around here in the garage?" Karina inquired.

"Since this is Y/n's first illegal race, I'll probably stick around, cheering you on alongside her," Aeri nudged me while saying that.

"Alright, let's head out. I'm all set," she said, wrapping up the final touches on her bike.

We all made our way out of the garage, heading toward the main event. Karina revved her bike, riding off towards the street where the race would take place. The way people glanced at us left me feeling intimidated. Despite my smile, fear crept in. This was uncharted territory for me.

"Hey, Karina! What's up! Ready to race?! There's a hefty pot riding on you, lots of folks betting," a guy shouted as he approached us.

"Absolutely, BamBam. I'm always geared up to win some cash," Karina replied with a grin.

I never thought this girl smiled, but here she was, flashing a smile in front of me. It was kinda cute.

"Awesome! Just remember to stay safe, can't afford to lose our top racer, aka our 'Queen'," The guy I now know as BamBam added.

"Who's that guy? Her boyfriend?" I asked Aeri in a hushed tone.

Aeri stifled a laugh. "Nah, not her boyfriend. That's her childhood friend. They grew up together, got into street racing, and he's sort of her manager. He always bets on her because he knows she'll win. Also, Karina's gay and has a dick," Aeri explained frankly.

The last sentence caught me off guard and I took a double take at Aeri.

“She has a dick??,” I blurted out in surprise.

"Yeah, she was born with it. Why, wanna hop on it?" Aeri quipped, giving me a smirk.

I was flabbergasted! “What? No way!" I exclaimed.

"Sure, just saying, you're not the only one. Lots of other girls here do too," she casually replied.

"Alright, alright, let's stop talking about her dick," I said, eager to change the subject.

"Stop talking about my what?" Karina chimed in, joining our conversation.

I was horrified. If she overheard our discussion, I'd be mortified.

"Your bike," Aeri quickly interjected, coming to my rescue. "Y/n here was just saying how much she liked it but wanted to stop gushing over your bike."

"Thanks," Karina replied, giving me a stare that made me cough in awkwardness. Why did I suddenly feel so awkward? I needed a shot, maybe ten.

"Anyway, I came to tell you guys that the race is starting soon, so get to your spots. And remember, don't accept drinks from strangers. Have the bartender made you the drink, alright?" Karina instructed us.

Can we grab a drink, Aeri? I seriously need one after that almost-embarrassment," I admitted, fanning myself to emphasize the point.

"Sure thing," Aeri replied, leading me towards the bar.

Once we had our drinks, we headed towards the restricted area where only people acquainted with Karina were allowed. There was a large TV screen displaying Karina, geared up with her helmet on, ready for the race. Her eyes reflected unwavering determination, making me equally certain she'd emerge victorious.

The audio from the scene was clear, capturing a guy beside Karina yelling that she was going to lose. Karina, unfazed, remained focused, displaying even greater determination. A girl emerged onto the street, holding a red flag. Raising her arm, she brought it down swiftly, marking the start of the race.

The race unfolded rapidly. Kai, the guy I just learned the name of, initially took the lead, but as they reached a sharp turn, Karina surged past him. Watching her on the screen, it was evident—she had a natural talent for this. Her movements on the bike were graceful, navigating every turn effortlessly. I finally understood why people bet on her. Yet, watching her gave me a mix of sensations, tingling feelings that I couldn't quite decipher—was it anxiety or something else?

As they approached the finish line, it was a dead heat. Anxiety crept up on me, evident in my shaking leg. I desperately hoped for Karina's victory. Beside me, Aeri seemed absolutely chilled, not a speck of doubt in her eyes. I couldn't help but wonder why she was so composed. "She knows something," I muttered to myself, suspecting that Aeri had an inside track on this.

Right after that thought, Aeri did the exact thing I suspected she knew about. With a simple press of a button, Karina's speed surged, propelling her faster than before, and she breezed across the finish line.

When Karina hit that button, everyone was stunned by the speed she picked up. But as soon as she crossed that finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers. Aeri and I jumped to our feet, cheering, hugging, and bouncing around in joy. Karina had not only won the race but also scored a substantial amount of prize money. BamBam, having won all the bets he placed, was also celebrating his success.

After breaking on her bike and removing her helmet, Karina was engulfed by a swarm of well-wishers. Aeri and I maneuvered through the crowd to reach her. Aeri led the way, offering her congratulations with a pat on the back, while I stood there beaming at her. Our eyes met, and she returned a small grin. For me, that was enough. Her eyes spoke volumes, brimming with excitement and joy.

As things settled, Karina gathered her winnings, and we trailed back to the garage together.

"That was one of your finest races in a while!" Aeri praised.

"Thank you. I really appreciate you guys being there, cheering me on," Karina replied, a grateful expression on her face.

"So, when's the next race?" Aeri inquired.

"In two weeks. I need to get some more parts for my bike, upgrade it, and also visit my mom to give her some money," Karina informed us.

"Speaking of your mom, how's she doing?" Aeri inquired.

"She's still working, despite me telling her to retire. That woman is just too stubborn," Karina replied, shaking her head.

"Just like you," Aeri teased with a smirk.

"Hey! I have my reasons, alright?" Karina retorted with a slight glare.

Before Aeri could reply, her phone rang. 'I'll be right back,' she said before leaving Karina and me alone. 'And now there are two,' I murmured to myself.

"So, Karina, you did an awesome job out there! I was really impressed by how you clutch in the end. I was so anxious the whole time, rooting for you, and I just wanted you to win and I was so worried—" I started to ramble.

"Y/n!" Karina exclaimed, gripping my shoulders and staring at me. "Calm down, you're rambling," she urged, trying to rein in my chatter.

Her sudden touch caught me off guard, bringing an unexpected closeness that felt like we were almost within kissing distance. I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts. "Sorry... that happens when I feel awkward or anxious," I explained.

She withdrew her hands and kept staring at me. "It's fine, just take a moment. If you need to ease your anxiety, try dunking your head in ice-cold water. That might help," Karina suggested calmly.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," I replied.

Karina returned to her bike, resuming work by taking parts off, fetching tools and components from her workbench, and moving back and forth between them. Lost in my thoughts, I scanned the garage, wondering where Aeri had vanished to.

"You know, you can sit, right?" Karina's voice startled me out of my reverie. I glanced at her, finding her staring at me and pointing to the chair nearby.

“Oh right, sorry,”I sheepishly grinned in response, taking the hint and finally sitting down. I couldn't help but keep glancing around the garage, occasionally stealing quick looks at Karina. The silence became unbearable, prompting me to break it.

"Do you need any help?" I offered, hoping to engage in conversation.

"Nope," she replied bluntly.

"Can I help you, though? I can't stand this silence, and I want to do something," I persisted.

"You can sit and be quiet," she repeated, smirking as she glanced up.

I remained silent, pursing my lips and continuing to observe her.

"Please, let me help!" I pleaded, growing desperate to do something.

"Fine, come here," she finally relented. I eagerly approached her, thrilled to lend a hand.

"I'm giving you a very big responsibility, okay? Now, hold the flashlight and don't move," Karina instructed, handing me the flashlight.

I felt disappointed; holding the flashlight was something my dad always made me do, and I often got yelled at for doing it wrong. Nevertheless, I was doing something, and for the next 20 minutes, I held onto it diligently. Finally, Aeri returned from her phone call.

"What the hell?! What took so long?" I exclaimed at her, still clutching the flashlight.

"Y/n, hold the flashlight correctly!" Karina interjected. "Oops, sorry," I apologized and adjusted my grip to hold it correctly.

"Sorry I took so long; it was an important call I can't go into details about right now, but I promise it's nothing bad," Aeri explained.

"Okay, I hope everything's alright," I replied.

"Everything's good. Are you ready to leave? Because I am," Aeri asked.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I confirmed, turning off the flashlight and handing it back to Karina.

"Alright, let's go. Bye, Karina! See you soon!" Aeri called out as she exited the garage.

"Bye, Karina, till then," I called out. As I began to duck my head under the garage door, I caught her saying goodbye.

"Bye, Y/n," I heard Karina's voice say as she continued tinkering with her bike.

"Alright, let's head back to our dorm. Don't worry, you'll be back; this is just the beginning," Aeri reassured me as we made our way back toward the stairs we came from.

•·················•·················•

It's the following day, and a strong urge pulls me to return to the garage. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but the desire is there. After getting ready, I head towards Aeri’s room to check if she's around, but her neatly made bed indicates she's probably left for class.

Deciding to go on my own, I recall the location and remember that Aeri had sent me the address. Gathering my belongings, I leave the room and start walking towards the destination.

I'm in the stairwell, making my way down toward the familiar door Aeri had led me through. As I approach, I notice the music still blaring, but today, the neon blue lights replace yesterday's vibrant colors. I glance around before heading toward Karina’s garage.

Suddenly, a random guy yells, "Hey, Beautiful! Come over here and sit on my lap!" I choose to ignore him and keep walking.

"Come on, I know you heard me! Come here!" he yells out again, this time patting his lap in an insistent and uncomfortable manner.

"No thanks, I'm good," I firmly replied, trying to maintain my course toward Karina’s garage.

But, as expected, the guy persists and ends up blocking my way. I look up at him, my expression blank, while he grins down at me. "Can I help you?" I retort, my arms crossed and an attitude evident in my tone.

"Yea, I asked you to do something but you didn't," the musty guy states.

"Yea, I know," I respond bluntly.

"You know... I don't take no for an answer," he declares, his tone suggesting an intent to push the issue.

"And? I do not care," I reiterated, my arms remaining crossed.

He made a move to reach for my arm, but thankfully, a familiar voice intervened. It was Karina. I felt a surge of relief; I was beginning to get anxious at the thought of him grabbing me.

"Nate, what are you doing?" Karina's voice addressed him directly.

"Karina! Hey! I was just trying to get this beautiful lady to sit on my lap and do other things if you know what I mean," Nate replied with a suggestive wink, trying to play it off.

Karina's expression turned serious. "Actually, she’s with me, and she is off-limits. I do not want you anywhere near her," Karina asserted firmly, setting a clear boundary.

"How come? I'm just having some fun," Nate retorted with a smirk, clearly not taking Karina's instructions seriously.

"I don't care. She’s off-limits. Now leave!" Karina's tone grew firmer, her frustration evident.

"Yea, sure, see you around, beautiful," Nate said, smirking as he began to walk away.

Karina gripped my hand firmly, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay? What are you doing here by yourself? Do you realize that if I wasn’t here, things could've gone bad? You can’t be here without me or Aeri, got it?" She guided me towards her garage, still holding my hand.

"I know. I'm sorry. I promise not to come here without you or Aeri," I assured her.

"You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" She pressed for an explanation.

"I just wanted to continue helping you with your bike. Also, I had no class today, so I decided to come here," I answered honestly.

"You came all this way just to help me with my bike?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah, why not?" I replied casually.

Karina chuckled in disbelief. "Okay, fine, you can help. Let's get started," she agreed.

And so, that's what we did. I began coming by every other day or whenever I had free time to assist her in preparing her bike for the upcoming race. Over time, we started enjoying each other's company, engaging in light conversation. However, we hadn't broached certain topics—things I wanted to know, like why she started street racing. I chose to keep those questions to myself, saving them for another day.

One such day, I had no class and was free. I had Karina’s number now, so I texted her beforehand that I was heading to the garage. She mentioned she'd meet me at the door, and true to her word, that's where she was. We walked together towards the garage, and she let me enter first before following. "So, what are we working on today?" I inquired.

"Nothing, because we are finished!" she announced with a grin, a familiar expression that I had come to adore over the past two weeks. That grin, when directed at me, felt unlike any other.

"Really? You finished it?" I asked in amazement.

"No, we finished it," she corrected, her grin turning into a warm smile.

I mirrored her smile. "Does that mean we get to go on a test drive?" I was thrilled at the prospect of riding the bike after investing so much effort into it.

"Of course! Here, let me get you a helmet," she offered, fetching one for me. She returned, placing the helmet on me. The visor was closed, but a simple click opened it, and suddenly, Karina was gazing into my eyes.

"There you are, hi!" she greeted with a grin.

"Hi back," I replied, returning her greeting. She continued to gaze at me for a moment before turning to retrieve her own helmet, securing it in place. Walking over to her bike, she mounted it first, signaling for me to climb on behind her.

Once I was on, I instinctively held onto the sides of the bike, but Karina guided my arms around her stomach, encouraging me to wrap them securely. I held on tightly, feeling the firmness of her toned stomach, grateful that she couldn't see my blushing face.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied, trying to mask any hint of nervousness in my voice.

She ignited the engine, and it roared thunderously, the sound reverberating throughout the garage. As she opened the garage door, the engine revved, and we surged out. The speed we gained made me hold onto Karina even tighter, a sudden fear gripping me.

In my helmet, I heard her voice. "You okay back there?" she inquired.

"Wait, how am I hearing you so clearly?" I asked, puzzled.

"There's Bluetooth connected to the helmets," she explained.

"Ah, that’s nice. And to answer your question, yes, I am okay, just a bit scared at the speed we're going," I confessed.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Then everything will be okay," she assured me, continuing to ride out of the tunnels and onto the main road.

As we navigated through the city, Karina's voice came through the helmets. "I want to take you somewhere, will you let me?" she asked.

Her proposal made my heart melt; it was a simple yet profound request. "Yes, take me wherever you want to go," I responded.

"Okay, thank you," she replied, steering toward her chosen destination.

We ascended a hill with a breathtaking view of the city, but Karina kept driving until we reached our final stop. She parked the bike, removing the key, and got off first. Extending her hand, she helped me dismount as well. "What is this place?" I inquired, following her closer to the view.

"It's a place where my dad brought my mom to confess his feelings to her. It was his spot, and even before that, it belonged to my grandma. After my dad passed away, my mom brought me here because I couldn't get over his death. She shared all their stories with me, and we laughed and cried together," Karina explained, her voice carrying the weight of memories.

I hung onto her every word. Karina paused for a moment before continuing.

"She also told me to come here whenever I feel stressed out or just need to connect with my dad in a way. So that's what I did. I was here last night, seeking guidance. I asked him if I should go forth with something, and I got the answer I wanted," she said, smiling warmly at me as she spoke.

Karina's revelation left me speechless. I sensed there was more she wanted to express.

"There’s another thing Mom told me about this spot. She said if I wanted to confess my feelings to someone, I should come here. It’s a place special to me, where my dad and grandma did the same in the past," she explained, her gaze fixed on me.

My heart raced at her words. She took hold of my hands. "Y/n, over the last two weeks, my feelings for you have grown. It started when I saw Nate getting too close to you. I realized then that I’d do anything to keep you safe. I've cherished every moment we've spent fixing my bike. I’ve come to realize that I have feelings for you. Please, tell me you feel the same?”

I was taken aback by her confession, my mind racing as I processed her words and the depth of my own feelings.

I was taken aback. Karina's confession of her feelings caught me by surprise, but it filled me with joy to know that the emotions were mutual. With heartfelt honesty, I replied, “Karina... from the moment your smile caught my eye, I felt something special. The time we've shared, every moment, it's made my feelings grow stronger. I do feel the same way. I'm grateful you feel it too.”

As Karina's hand cupped my cheek, her touch was gentle yet filled with longing. Our gazes locked, conveying emotions words couldn't express. I leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her hand against my skin. In that silent exchange, the air thickened with anticipation. We moved closer, our bodies drawn together by an invisible force. When our lips finally met, a surge of electricity ran through me, setting my nerves on fire. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness, mirroring the intensity I sensed in Karina. Every heartbeat seemed synchronized, creating an unspoken harmony between us. I withdrew my hand from hers, instinctively wrapping both around her neck, drawing her closer and intensifying the kiss. Simultaneously, her hand moved to the side of my stomach, tracing gentle, reassuring circles. The passionate exchange stirred a whirlwind of emotions between us, each moment pulsating with raw feelings. As the kiss deepened, the need for air became undeniable, forcing us to reluctantly break apart, breathless and exhilarated.

We were both breathing heavily, savoring the lingering sensation of the kiss. I opened my eyes first; Karina's remained closed, a charming smile gracing her face. When her eyes finally met mine, we shared a moment of laughter, both in disbelief and excitement. Karina reached out, taking my hand. "Come on, let's go do something fun," she said, smiling warmly.

I grabbed her hand, and we sprinted back to her bike. She swiftly handed me the helmet, planting one more kiss on my lips before securing the helmet over my head. With her helmet on, she mounted the bike, extending her hand to help me get on. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding on tightly as she revved the engine and guided us to our next stop.

This time, cruising through the city felt different—carefree, even. I felt lighter, more alive, and undeniably happy, all thanks to the girl in front of me. As we reached Imperial, a nightclub, Karina dismounted first and helped me off the bike. She handed the keys to the valet, grasped my hand, and led me confidently toward the entrance. We bypassed any need for IDs as Karina was familiar with the bouncer.

After arriving, we beelined to the bar for drinks. Shots flowed freely, and we lost ourselves in the music, dancing together all night. Carefree and spirited, we moved to the beats, laughing and enjoying the moment. Eventually, we somehow made it back home, and waking up there, I was grateful that we'd safely returned.

I woke up in a room that didn’t seem familiar, but seeing Karina next to me put me at ease. Glancing around, I noticed a picture of her and BamBam on the nightstand. It was Karina's room. I felt a moment of panic, worrying we'd gone too far last night, but a quick check under the blanket revealed I was fully dressed. I sighed in relief and stole a glance at Karina, peacefully asleep beside me. She stirred, and I found myself captivated by her face. She slowly opened her eyes, catching me in the act.

“What a lovely sight to wake up to,” she said, her morning voice soft and gentle.

I grinned and leaned in for a kiss. She reciprocated, but before it could linger, she broke away. “As much as I'd love to, let me brush my teeth first.”

“Karina, it's fine. Come here,” I insisted, trying to pull her back for another kiss. With a laugh, she evaded my grasp and dashed into the bathroom, teasingly repeating, “No, let me brush my teeth!”

I stayed seated on her bed, chuckling at her playful antics, before eventually rising and making my way to the bathroom. While we brushed our teeth, our playful nudges and giggles made it feel like we were back in high school.

Once we finished brushing our teeth, we moved to her kitchen and decided to make some food. Karina prepared some eggs and toast, a simple yet satisfying breakfast.

“Y/n,” Karina said, breaking the calm ambiance of the morning.

“Yeah?” I responded, looking up to meet her gaze.

Her eyes held a mix of adoration and nervousness. “Will you be my girlfriend?” she asked, her voice slightly wavering.

My heart fluttered in excitement. "I would love to be your girlfriend," I replied, rising from my seat to give her a passionate kiss. She returned it with equal fervor.

Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath. "There's a race tonight. I want you and Aeri to be there, please," she requested.

"Absolutely, count on us!" I assured her.

"Great! You guys are like my good luck charms in a way, so I need you there," she said, gently rubbing my sides.

The tension was palpable as the night settled in. Karina had her eyes set on a significant prize this time. Winter, her competitor, was no ordinary racer, having secured victories at a level matching Karina's own accomplishments. When I inquired if Karina felt nervous about this race, she assured me of her composure, having previously met Winter, who seemed amiable.

As we arrived at the garage, the atmosphere crackled with a blend of excitement and anticipation. Aeri and I joined forces to help Karina ready her bike, meticulously tuning every detail for optimum performance. Meanwhile, Karina engaged in a serious conversation with BamBam, strategizing about bets and fine-tuning her approach for the upcoming race.

"Think Karina's got this one in the bag?" I asked Aeri, passing her a wrench.

"I'm not entirely certain this time. Winter's no joke. She's a fantastic racer, saw her work before, and it's impressive," Aeri replied, adjusting a tool.

“She’s really that good?” I inquired, surprised by Aeri’s statement about Winter.

“She’s just as good as Karina,” Aeri confirmed.

Karina returned after her conversation with BamBam, drawing me in for a quick peck to express gratitude for cleaning her bike. Before I could respond, Aeri interjected playfully, demanding her own acknowledgment for the help she'd provided. Karina indulged her with a forehead kiss, a smirk playing on her lips.

Aeri teased about being the matchmaker, observing Karina and me embracing each other. As the moment of the race arrived, BamBam's booming voice signaled Karina to prepare, redirecting everyone's attention to the impending competition.

“Alright guys, let's go race,” Karina announced, setting the momentum for the upcoming event. As we made our way to the race track, Winter appeared, engrossed in conversation with some acquaintances. Aeri departed momentarily to fetch drinks while I stayed by Karina's side.

Karina sought to park her bike beside Winter’s. “Are you okay waiting here for a bit?” she inquired.

“Yes, I'm good,” I replied as she moved to position her bike. In the meantime, Winter approached me. “Hey, what's your name?” she asked with a smile.

“I'm Y/n, and you’re Winter,” I responded.

“That’s me! So… why is a beautiful girl standing alone by herself?” Winter questioned, her expression playful.

“Oh, just waiting on a friend,” I answered casually, trying to keep things light amidst the anticipation of the race.

“How about this? You and I go somewhere together after the race is done?” Winter proposed, her tone playful.

“Umm-” I hesitated, feeling a rush of panic. Where was Karina when I needed her?

“Oh, come on, I don't bite… unless you want me to?” Winter flirted, her demeanor teasing.

"Karina!" Relief washed over me as she arrived, once again coming to my rescue.

"Karina! This is your girlfriend?" Winter's curiosity was evident in her gaze toward both of us.

"Yes, she is." Karina confirmed, wrapping her arms around me protectively.

Winter eyed Karina's protective gesture and then smirked. "Okay then, your girl is a fine dime. I want to make a bet. If I win, you break up with Y/n, and she comes with me. If I don't, we can act like this conversation never happened," Winter proposed, extending her hand for a handshake.

“Deal,” Karina said, her tone firm, as she shook Winter’s hand.

“Great doing business with you,” Winter said with a smirk, winking at me before strolling toward her bike.

My heart raced with disbelief and hurt. “Karina, seriously? You’re just going to let that happen?” I felt betrayed, hurt that she would entertain such an idea without discussing it with me. I began to turn away, but Karina caught hold of my hand before I could leave.

“Y/n listen to me,” Karina pleaded as she held onto my hand.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “No way. I can't believe this. You’re willing to throw away our relationship just like that,” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers in frustration. “We haven't even been together for two days, and now you’re betting on me? If you lose, I’m as good as gone,” I said, my anger palpable, trying to control the quiver in my voice.

“I did it to protect you.” Her voice cracked with an unexpected vulnerability.

“Protect me?” I turned to face her, frustration and confusion mixing within me.

“Winter... She’s a ruthless racer, and she’s been known for her tricks off the track. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you. I had to agree, but believe me, I never meant it. You mean more to me than anything else, Y/n. Please, you have to trust me on this.”

Her words struck a chord, but I was still shaken. “How could you make a deal like that without even discussing it with me?”

Karina's expression softened, remorse clear in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. I panicked. Please, I’ll figure out a way. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

I hesitated, the hurt mingling with understanding. “You promise?”

“Absolutely. Trust me, okay?” Karina pleaded, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I sighed, torn between emotions but wanting to believe her. “Fine.”

She pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Y/n. I promise, I’ll fix this, I’ll win the race for you.”

“I don't want to discuss it further. Let’s just focus on the race. I’ll be there with Aeri cheering you on,” I said, my hurt evident as I gave Karina a peck on the lips before walking over to Aeri, who had our drinks.

“What happened between you and Karina?” she asked, noticing Karina's sad expression.

“She and Winter made a bet about our relationship,” I explained.

“What kind of bet?” she inquired, eyebrows furrowed.

“If Winter wins, Karina and I have to split so I end up with Winter,” I revealed.

“What? Why would she agree to that?” Aeri exclaimed.

“I have no idea, but she’s asking me to trust her,” I replied.

“Okay, then let's try to trust her.”

The race commenced as Aeri and I fixated on the screen, watching Winter and Karina revving their engines atop their bikes. A girl emerged, brandishing a red flag. As she dropped it, signaling the start, the engines roared to life, and the race began.

Initially, it was a tight competition, neck and neck, but Winter skillfully claimed the lead. Her bike navigated every twist and turn effortlessly, gaining ground with ease. Karina trailed closely behind, mirroring Winter's prowess as they maneuvered through the course.

As the race unfolded, it became evident that Winter's racing skills were formidable, just as Aeri and Karina had indicated. The tension mounted within me as I fervently rooted for Karina to win. My feelings for her grew more pronounced with every twist and turn. I didn't want to end up with Winter; it was Karina I truly cared about.

Karina surged ahead at one point, fueling a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived as Winter swiftly overtook her. They were now neck and neck, closing in on the finish line. Karina managed to match Winter's pace, riding side by side. Both racers shared a momentary gaze, a blend of determination and grit in their eyes, each vying for victory.

My heart raced with anxiety as they neared the finish line. Winter had a slight edge, but Karina's resolve was unmistakable. The atmosphere was electric as they crossed the finish line simultaneously, leaving us all in suspense, waiting for the official outcome.

"Did Winter just win?" I asked myself in disbelief, falling to my knees, hurt by the outcome.

"Wait, wait!" The announcer's voice boomed. "Let's have a replay!"

As we watched the replay, it was clear: Karina's wheel crossed the finish line first. "Karina won!" I shouted in jubilation, Aeri joining in.

The crowd erupted into cheers. Karina removed her helmet, smiling. Winter approached her, extending her hand. "Good race, Jimin," she said.

Karina shook her hand, replying, "Good race, Minjeong."

Overwhelmed with emotion, I ran towards Karina, enveloping her in a tight hug. "You won," I said, still in disbelief.

"I told you to trust me," she said softly.

"I'll always trust you," I replied, pulling her into a passionate kiss.

The kiss was interrupted by Aeri's arrival. "AYYY, Karina!! YOU WON!!" she screamed, rushing to hug her. But then, Aeri punched Karina's arm hard.

"Ouch! What was that for?!" Karina exclaimed.

"That was for accepting the bet," Aeri retorted.

Karina sighed. "At least I won, and it's over now."

"Yeah, it's in the past. Let's focus on the present and work towards the future," I chimed in.

Karina went to collect her winnings, and we all headed back to Imperial to celebrate her victory. Imperial was alive with music, and we lost ourselves in the beats, dancing and reveling in the energy of the night. Karina and I moved together on the dance floor, the heat of the room adding to the charged atmosphere. The way she looked at me sent shivers down my spine, her desire unmistakable.

As our bodies moved in sync, the electricity between us intensified. Karina leaned in close, her voice a seductive murmur in my ear. “You look amazing tonight,” she whispered, her hand tracing a tantalizing path across my skin.

Unable to resist any longer, I pulled Karina closer to me, breathlessly murmuring in her ear, “Let's get out of here.” I could see the immediate spark of desire in her eyes as she eagerly took my hand, leading me out of the club. Outside, she hailed a cab, and within 10 minutes, we arrived at her house.

Pressing against her door, our passion intensified. Karina momentarily paused our embrace to unlock the door, and as soon as it swung open, she pushed me inside before closing it firmly behind us. We resumed our fervent kissing as we made our way upstairs to her room.

Karina shoved me onto the bed and removed her bra and shirt. She returned to kissing me, making tracks with her lips as she kissed down my neck. She broke the kiss and gripped the bottom of my dress,asking for permission to take it off. And I let her. I reached back to unhook my bra when she removed my dress. Allowing it to descend before me. After everything was off, she teased my nipples and kissed every part of my body, leaving as many traces as she could.

With my panties still in the way, she began to kiss her way down my body, reaching closer to my heart.

"Please," I whimpered.

Karina pulled down my panties and planted a kiss on top of them. began removing her boxers and pants. "Anything for you baby.” She muttered.

She gently brushed her cock's head on my pussy. “Fuck baby you’re so wet. Who makes you this wet” Karina Moaned.

"You!" I groaned, "Please, Karina, do something.

She began to break my pussy apart with her cock as she pushed it through my hole. She groaned, "Fuck you're so tight," and began to thrust in me. I felt amazing the way Karina was touching all the right places inside me. "Harder," I moaned.

Karina pounding me harder. We both moaned loudly. I was getting close. “Fuck Karina I’m close” I gasp out.

She groaned, continuing to thrust, "Me too."

I groaned, "Fuck Karina, you feel so good," as tears streamed down my cheeks from the pleasure she was giving me.

"Baby, where do you want it? Karina groaned, "Where do you want my cum?"

I moaned out, "Please cum inside."

Karina pushed herself closer to me. She reached down to my clit and gave it a few rapid circular rubs, and that was it for me.

I cried, "Fuck Karina, I'm cumming."

“Cum for me baby” She husked.

I squeezed Karina’s cock while I came hard. Sending her over the edge, she shoot ropes of cum into my pussy painting my walls white. I groaned at the warmth. Karina stood steady inside me for a second before releasing her grip and pulling out. She takes a deep breath and settles down next me, drawing me very close to her chest.

“Sleep now, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning,” Karina whispered, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

•·················•·················•

“Hey, whatcha thinkin' about?” Karina asked, gazing at me with affection. We had just arrived at our spot. I hugged her tight. “Just thinking about when we first met, that's all,” I replied.

She leaned in for a peck. “Thanks to Aeri, I met the love of my life,” Karina said, smiling.

“Agreed,” I chuckled, drawing her into a kiss.

“I love you, Y/n,” she murmured against my lips.

“I love you too, Jimin.”

╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯

#jimin x reader #Karina x reader #Yoo Jimin #aespa x reader #GP Karina #aespa x fem reader #aespa #aespa smut #yoo Jimin x reader #bitchiswild #BIW. WRITES #Spotify

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itsmealaiah · 4 months

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would you be able to do a switch Johnnie smut with a reader who has a scene bimbo type style

yes i can! 💗 💋

I think you're hot

Tags/ warnings: reader having a bimbo style, sub! johnnie, riding johnnie, begging, holding hands during sex.

MDNI ⚠️

pairing: johnnie with a goth bimbo girlfriend

summary: after a tiring day of filming a video, johnnie comes to reader and his shared bedroom, needing intimacy.

Your POV:

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I waited for him to come into the bedroom. It was always like this after he finished filming one of his videos. The anticipation, the excitement, the need for him to be inside me. It was more than just physical; it was like we were two halves of a whole, always seeking completion in each other's arms.

As the door clicked shut behind him, I felt my breath hitch in my throat. There he was, my Johnnie, his hair mussed from running his hands through it so many times while he filmed. He looked at me with those familiar eyes, filled with love and desire. Without a word, he crossed the room in a few long strides, his strong hands cupping my face as he leaned in to kiss me tenderly. Our lips moved against each other, a dance of sorts, and I could feel the heat between us building with each passing second.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck to my collarbone. "You are so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His hands moved lower, unbuttoning my top slowly, revealing more and more of my skin to the cool air in the room. I arched my back, wanting him to touch me, needing him to make me feel wanted and desired the way he always did.

As his fingers brushed against my breasts, I gasped, my hips pressing forward into his touch. "Please," I whispered, my voice trembling with need. "I need you, Johnnie." He smiled down at me, his eyes darkening, and then he was there, kneeling in front of me, his strong hands cupping my breasts as he took one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking gently at first and then with more urgency.

I cried out, arching my back as the sensation overwhelmed me. I could feel myself growing wet between my legs, aching for him to be inside of me. "Fuck, Johnnie," I moaned, my voice barely audible over the sounds of our heavy breathing and the wet noises he made as he sucked on my nipple. "Please, I need you." And then, without another word, he stood up, guiding his hard length to my entrance.

As he pushed inside of me, I let out a deep, shuddering breath, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I held on for dear life. He began to move, slowly at first, his hips meeting mine in a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. I threw my head back, lost in the sensation of being so completely connected to him, my body responding to his every touch. "Johnnie," I breathed, my voice ragged and raw. "I love you." And with those words, we fell together into a passionate, all-consuming love affair that only seemed to intensify with each passing moment.

His movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed deeper inside of me. I could feel my own orgasm building, growing closer with each thrust, each touch. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, our skin slapping together in a wet, desperate rhythm. "Oh God, I'm close," I gasped, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as I tried to hold on to the feeling, to the moment, just a little longer.

And then he groaned, his hips stuttering as he came inside me, his warmth filling me up in a way that made me feel whole. I could feel my own orgasm crashing over me in a wave of pure pleasure, my body convulsing around him as I cried out his name. "Johnnie," I moaned, my voice cracking with emotion. "Oh, Johnnie."

As he held me close, his strong arms wrapped tightly around me, I felt my breath begin to steady, my heart rate finally returning to something resembling normal. But even as my body recovered from the intensity of our lovemaking, I couldn't help but savor the feeling of him inside me, of being so completely connected to him.

He leaned in, kissing me softly on the lips, his tongue tracing the outline of my mouth. "You're amazing," he murmured against my skin. "I love you so much." And then, with a final groan, he pulled out of me, rolling us over so that I was now straddling him. His hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs circling my nipples as they hardened to peaks.

I arched my back, feeling the sensation of being so close to him, of having his body wrapped around mine. My breasts swung gently with the movement, teasing his face, and I couldn't help but let out a small giggle as I watched his expression change from one of tenderness to one of desire. "Like what you see?" I asked, a mischievous grin spreading across my lips.

He growled, his hands moving lower, his fingers slipping between my legs. "God, yes," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "You're so fucking beautiful." He thrust his fingers inside me, finding my sweet spot with ease, and I moaned, arching my back further, meeting his touch with a desperation that seemed to fuel his passion.

As he touched me, as I felt the warmth of his skin against my breasts, the wetness of his mouth on my nipples, I couldn't help but feel a sense of power, of control that was as intoxicating as it was addictive. I could feel the tension building inside me, a tight coil of desire that threatened to unravel at any moment.

I leaned forward, my body pressing against his as I rocked my hips against his fingers, the friction sending waves of pleasure through me. "Fuck, Johnnie," I gasped, my eyes locked on his. "I need you inside me." And with that, I positioned his hard length at my entrance.

He groaned as I guided him inside, the tightness of my body enveloping him in a warm, wet embrace. I threw my head back, arching my back as he began to move, his hips meeting mine in a rhythm that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat. He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine as our bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

The sounds of our lovemaking filled the room, echoing off the walls and mingling with the scent of sweat and sex that filled the air. I could feel the tension building inside me, my body on the verge of surrendering to another intense orgasm. I tightened my grip on him, my nails digging into his shoulders as I urged him on, desperate for the release I knew he could give me.

His thrusts grew deeper, harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to maintain control. I could feel the tension building inside him as well, and with each passing moment, it became clearer and clearer that the passion between us was only growing stronger. His pace began to quicken, his hips slapping against my ass in a rhythm that was both brutal and beautiful.

With a final, guttural groan, he tensed, his body going rigid as he let out a long, shuddering breath. His seed spilled into me, filling me up in a way that made me feel completely and utterly connected to him. As his hips stilled, I could feel the aftershocks of our passion coursing through my body, my muscles twitching and contracting in response to the overwhelming sensations that raced through me.

He collapsed below me, his weight pressing into the mattress, his breath hot and fast.

I lay on top of him, our sweaty bodies still connected, my heart racing from the intensity of our lovemaking. I couldn't help but smile as I felt the warmth of his skin against mine, the firmness of his muscles beneath my fingers. He looked up at me, his eyes still glassy from the pleasure that had just consumed him.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You'd find a way," I teased. "But it might not be nearly as much fun." I leaned down, capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

a/n: my first fic abt johnnie, can't wait to write more for you all 💋 love yall

#johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #itsmealaiah #emo #scene #punk #love #smut #first johnnie post!

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