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ridingthatd · 5 months

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✧༺ CRAZY CHOSO

chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, possessive choso, crazy choso, choso eating it out

choso stare down at his phone, his heart is empty, he feels like it isn't even here anymore- you stole it from him. you stole it from him a week ago, the day you decided to break up after a heated argument, and what bothers choso the most is that- he knows, he knows it his fault, you have always been patient with him, you have always showed your love to him- showered him with it.

even when- choso heart tightened, even when he never did- tears swell his eyes, even when all you received was a cold hearted jerk who doesn't know how to love, choso choke on his breath, tears running down his eyes- it finally hit him like a truck, after he finally lost you, after you finally realized he isn't worth your love, reality hit him.

he can't breath, fuck he can't breath, choso grab a hold of his dark locks, tugging them hard, fuck how could he- how could he treat his baby like this, how could he never say a simple i love you, even when you said it hundreds, thousands, millions times to him, even as- he chokes on his sobs, even as you left this door, your final word was "I love you, choso" and he didn't even go after you he just stood there, staring at you dumbfounded, why couldn't he just return your i love yous, is he this fucking much of a loser to be embarrassed to show his love to you?

the house was so quite without you, the only sounds that filled it was his choked sobs, he feels like he'll throw up, choso hurriedly made his way toward the kitchen to grab a cup of water- but what catch his attention as he was opening the freezer, is the sticky notes- your sticky notes, that you never forgot to leave for choso everytime he left to work, his hands shakily grabs into one of them.

"hope you enjoy the lunch i made you love ya :p".

a tear runs down his face.

"i left you some sweets today, even if you don't like them eat them love yaaaaa >:(".

another tear roll down.

he clenchs them against his heart- the heart that is bleeding sorrow, he slides down the fridge, hitting the cold kitchen floor.

it's been a week since you left choso, for a break as you're calling it, you sigh even though it's only been a week you miss your grumpy man. even though he might be cold in front of other peoples eyes- to you he was just a comfort person- a comfort pillow, cuddling him every time you can, choso was like the comfort blanket that people keep with them from childhood- no matter what other people say, you still love your little comfort blanket- your choso.

you look outside the window, it was raining, you couldn't help but think about how you would be cuddling with choso right now in this rainy day- while you tell him to read you whatever book he has in his hands, you listen to his rough voice, while he gently stroke his hand down your spine, putting you to sleep.

you wipe your tears immediately once you hear a knock on your door, you frown making your way to see who is it, at such weather, you were stunned to see chosos wet figure at your door, his clothes were snugged into him from being wet, his hair was dripping a few dots of water down his face, and your heart clenchs as you stare at his blood shot eyes.

"choso-"

he didn't mutter any words, he just simply held you up by your hips grabbing you so hard that you're sure that it will leave red marks on your sensitive skin later on. placing your heavy thighs on his board shoulder like they weight nothing, his face making direct contact with your bare pussy- regretting masturbating and forgetting to put your panties on.

"what are you doing?"

you couldn't finish your sentence because he's already shoving his tongue up your pussy, sucking, licking the juice from the orgasm you had an hour ago, an orgasm you had thinking about him, he clearly wasn't here to talk- he was here to do a lot more than talking.

it's been a week since you had something this good on sucking on your clit- something as good as chosos tongue, suckling on your clit like it's a nipple- like he's trying to get milk out of it- but the only difference is that he isn't trying to get milk, but he's trying to rip an orgasm out of your cunt.

and of course he did, you grasp hard on his long black hair, gasping out to the ceiling, arching your pussy into his mouth, making sure he drinks all of your juice and he glady do. like a starved man who hasn't had water for day, and your pussy was a river of water for him.

you look at him, thinking he will let you go by now, but he didn't, he keeps his face shoved into your pussy, it drives you crazy the way his nose brush against your clit everytime he breaths.

"could put me down, please?"

he clearly had no intentions of putting you down anytime soon, because he selfishly licks, slurps at every drip of arousal that leave you. you weren't sure what to do, you always knew that choso was obsessive in his own way, but you only got to experience a bit of it, but now that you left him you're sure it triggered a part of him that you've never seen before. he keeps sniffing, trialling his nose on your clit, wetting his face with your wet cunt.

"darling" you moan out.

he simply lock his lips on clit again sucking on it, his eyes are closed as if he's a youngling sucking, his long eyelashs tickling your belly, ripping a giggle out of you, making him finally look at you, with his red-puffy lips wet from your juice.

"can you put me down now?"

he pulled you from his shoulders but kept you in his arms. as he led you into the bedroom, glancing at your underwear that you left on the floor. choso placed you on the bed and pressed you against it with his body. he was cornering you, engaging in some primal display of possessiveness that he never showed you before.

his hands were roaming around your body, he was clearly trying to in print you again, feel your warm skin against his hands again, he keeps his face inside of your neck rubbing his face on it, as he stroke his hand from your thighs to your ass, just to make his way to your breast, as soon as he feels the fabric of your bra- he doesn't like it one bit, so he simply rip it off, out of his way.

cold air hit your nipples making them harden, he trails his face from your neck slowly to your breast, brushing his lips softly against your nipples, breathing in but not taking it inside of his mouth. he just wanted to feel you, feel your skin against his again, because he clearly thought he won't get to feel that ever again.

your heart clenchs at the thought of what he might have felt, the feeling of being left all alone, choso never acted like this before- right now he's acting like a baby he never was able to act like, he was always putting a hard on act.

you quickly snatch his head closer to your body, holding him close, so close that you can listen to his pluse "it's okay baby, I won't ever leave you again."

you can feel it pick up, quick, clearly affected by your words, you smile knowing it always made him shy whenever you called him baby no matter how many times you say it, he still gets frustrated. he doesn't say anything, he just look up at you, before he opens his mouth that was brushing against your nipple and place it inside his mouth, his tongue was quick to circle the bud.

"we- we should really talk about..."

he makes sure to coat both of your nipples with his silvia, leaving your nipples all swollen and red, before he picks you by your hips again and placing you on his, clearly didn't have enough.

you were suffocating his face. again. choso was a 6 feet big guy, so that clearly didn't bother him.

he kept on slurping on your pussy, till it's silk with your orgasm and his silvia, making sure to print your taste against his tongue so it will last for weeks.

"okay," you panted, your sweaty forehead now resting on the cool sheets, while your defeated cunt hovered over his mouth.

"we need to talk now. you've spent half the day licking me."

but the only words choso mutter out were- "sleep now" he horsely says. as he snuggle his face into your boobs, you were about to complain till you felt wet drops slide down your cleavage, you shut your lips together, gently stroking his hair pushing him further into you.

but choso didn't have any intentions of sleeping because you feel his rough, huge hands make their way toward your wet pussy drenched with your orgasm and his saliva. he slowly warped his lips around your nipples, drawing circles with his tongue.

you felt him tug his pants down, as he frees his huge leaking cock out of it, he slowly shove his cock inside of your tight cunt and he couldn't help whimpering on your nipples, missing your warm, wet pussy.

"shh it's okay baby, I'm here- I'm here" you whine out, drunk on the feeling of being stuffed with his cock.

it only takes him a few rock of his hips before he's spilling his hot cum inside of you, you thought he was gonna pull out- he didn't he kept his cock inside of you all night, while your nipples brushed against his lips as he softly breath out, sleeping in your embrace.

you can feel him get hard again inside of you every once in awhile so he just jults awake, stare at your nipples with hazy eyes before he takes your fat hard nub into his mouth, suckling, biting on it while he start rocking his cock into your already cum filled pussy, till he fill it again, fall asleep and the process repeat till the next morning.

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boggyboats · 1 year

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I think, personally, my favorite thing to do as a teacher for older kids is to purposefully use slang wrong

For example, I bought new clothes and went into class the other day and said, “now aren’t these such a yass pussy-slay girlboss moment? 😚”

I’ve never felt so satisfied to see a group of teenagers so close to tears

#another one of my favorites is when a lot of them don’t do very well on an assignment and go #’this is so cringe-fail of you guys 🙄’#they know I’m joking of course #we immediately go into where I might’ve gone wrong in explaining and help them to do better #then I like to go ‘yaaaaas slay 😍 you guys are so good at this!!’#personally- why hate being a teacher when you can do things like this?#it’s my last year for being with high schoolers- so I gotta soak in every chance I can to embarrass them #I’ll miss those brats #I love seeing them die a little on the inside each time #they deserve it though 😭#I love them but DAMN they give me a run for my money at times 😭#teacher #teacher life #school

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tramaqueen · 2 years

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“Honey, I’m home~” (shaun)

Faora found herself back at the trailer Shaun and her shared together in search of the things they hid in the walls and floors all those years ago. It wasn’t the same home they shared that was for certain. Completely new tenants left the place renovated to match. All the little cracks and loose floorboards were sealed and set in place. Besides the extra work to undo what was done, none of it mattered as she hyper focused on knowing the truth. Everything ended so suddenly, and they had to. Operating from one place, no matter how secluded, things catch up with you when you’re a criminal.

There was a good 40 minutes where she was alone. Lost in thought she kept swinging the ax to destroy the walls, moving down to tear up some of the floorboards. With no luck one could say Fae was spiraling. It was an unfortunate line of events as the person that was paying their say witnessed her ruins and tried to stop the chaotic brunette mid psychosis. “Where the fuck is my stuff?!” Her and the confused tenant get into a game a tug-o-war over the ax before she head butts them. Taking full advantage of the discombobulated other stumbling over the shards of wood the murderess swings, landing a fatal split in their brain. Waiting for their weight drop to the ground she smiles, releasing a deep sigh, watching the crimson pool at her feet gets her to relax.

The sound of Shaun’s voice snaps her at attention, and she doesn’t believe it right away. With her hallucinations at their peak, and the drugs she was using to cope eating away at the line between reality and delusion, she couldn’t. Faora hated the word fate, it seemed too close to hope, but if there was anyone that made her feel the despised word it was Shaun. And if this was real, the chances felt so slim fate had to be real too. “No way.” Possessed, she drops the ax, stepping over the corpse and debris. Fae couldn’t get to her fast enough. “No fucking way!” Cupping her face with both hands she gets lost in her eyes like she always would. In this moment she could feel her throat tighten, trying not to cry she wraps her arms around her. The dripping with blood becomes irrelevant as Faora holds her tight. “Where? How? Did you?” She sniffles, looking around then back to her. “How long you been here?”

@funnylilfamily

#funnylilfamily #tw gore #tw blood #tw drugs #i mISS THE GIRLSSSS YAAAAAS #Faora 🖤 Shaun

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heeracha · 2 years

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#yaaaaas i miss lino #Spotify

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bruh-changbin · 1 year

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sweet tooth

pairing: park jay x waitress!afab reader

genre: smut, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe), public sex, creampie, finger sucking, minimal food play, lots of mentions of food, brief mention of male masturbation, jongseong is kind of a big desperate loser, lmk if i’m missing anything

word count: 6.7k

a/n: writing this killed me idk why it took fucking forever dawg. but hey, i’m finally giving you all an enha fic without a depressing ending!!! here’s a fun drinking game to play while you read this: take a shot every time jay says a variation of ‘uhhh’ (you will die) ALSOOOO this is for my bae’s @k-ingzo @lix-ables thank you guys for hyping me up to write this bc if you didn’t I’m 90% sure I would’ve scrapped it 😻 LOVE YAAAAA

waiting.

the most painful game one can be subjected to.

seconds stretch into minutes stretch into hours and soon enough the whole concept of time is but a mere social construct that holds no real value.

surely his coffee’s gone cold by now.

the view from the window to his right has progressed from one filled with gold, yellow and orange to one filled with blue, black, and indigo. one by one the neon signs of nearby businesses have flickered on to attract the nighttime crowd.

he tries to ignore the way his heart is sinking in his chest, much like the way he himself is sinking deeper and deeper into the red vinyl cushion of the booth he’s seated in. the overhead speakers have been blaring elvis for the past half hour and he wants to scream and smash a plate on the floor in frustration. if they play hound dog one more time i swear i’m gonna-

jennifer. 20. single. 2.3 km away. her bio read: only swipe right if you like puppies!!!!!

he does like puppies and found her to be quite pretty, so he did as he was instructed. his heart did a small flip in his chest when his phone screen lit up reading ‘it’s a match!’. he got to talking to her and things were going smoothly. well, at least he thought they were. now he’s alone in a booth constantly refreshing their online chat with some sliver of hope that she may still be coming. the same three messages stare back at him:

[5:17 pm] jay : hey! I got here a bit early so i’m just waiting in the car. let me know when you get here and we’ll go in together.

[6:03 pm] jay: it started getting busy so i snagged us a booth, i hope that’s ok… anyways, i’ll see you soon.

[6:49 pm] jay: hello?

whatever, her loss. fuck dating apps.

and fuck jake sim for making him sign up for one.

maybe tinder just isn’t for him. maybe he needs to find love the old fashion way: bumping into someone on the street; locking eyes across a crowded room; both of you reaching for the last bottle of wine at the grocery store and then just insisting that the other takes it. you know, the kind of shit you see in movies.

the only thing is he’s tried the old fashion way for years to no avail, with tinder being his last resort. things like these take time, he tries to remind himself. you can’t rush love, that’s the magic of it!

but now, seated in a booth at an obnoxiously retro themed diner with his head hung low, he has lost all faith in love. he picks up the porcelain mug to his right and downs the dark liquid; cold, just like his heart.

he should just leave. i mean it’s obvious at this point that he’s been stood up so he should just head home where the teasing and nagging from jake that will bruise his ego even more is iminent. there comes a time in life where one must accept defeat and move on with-

“would you like a top up, sir?”

a sudden interjection from a saccharine voice to his left is what pulls him out of his trance of self pity. woah, hello you.

it’s been a long time since he’s been rendered speechless, but you do that to him. you, looking like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine as opposed to serving coffee in a diner. a white button down hugs your torso in all the right ways and he’s envious of the red apron that’s tightly wrapped around your waist because that should be him. the blue ballpoint pen tucked behind your ear somehow makes you 10x more attractive and he can feel his throat close up at the sight of you.

your skin looks smooth and your lips look plump and thank fuck jessica bailed on him because now all he can think about is bending you over this very table and fucking you raw. top up? more like top me, please!

the glint of the gold name tag pinned onto your shirt catches his eye and he reads it: y/n. pretty.

he notices your eyes shifting around anxiously and reality comes crashing down on him. stop drooling over her tits and answer the question you perv. focus!

“i u-uhhh yes, uh yes please that’d be great,” he stutters out embarrassingly, prompting you to bend over and refill his mug with steaming hot coffee from a pot that you hold with a perfectly manicured hand.

“can i get you anything else while you…” your eyes dart to the empty seat across from where he’s seated, “wait?”

god this is so embarrassing. now the cute waitress thinks he’s a fucking loser who got stood up (that is exactly what happened). could this day get any worse? he was just about to leave, spare himself from more agony when you waltzed into his life and made his brain a complicated, frazzled mess.

“uhmm no that’s ok,” he’s trying very hard not to trip over the simplest of words, “just the bill would be great.”

you nod, about to turn around and head over to the register when jay speaks up again in an attempt to preserve his image.

“it was supposed to be a-a work meeting,” he starts while motioning to the still empty spot across from him, “but my uh….. business partner… couldn’t make it, so..”

he’s lying. you know he’s lying. someone waiting for their ‘business partner’ to show up wouldn’t be checking their phone every 1-3 minutes while intermittently wiping their clammy palms on their slacks every time the doorbell jingles and a new customer enters.

but he doesn’t need to know that, so you paint on an understanding smile before heading over to the diner counter, sparing him one final glance over your shoulder.

it’s a sad sight to see; a handsome boy patiently waiting for someone who’s clearly not going to show up. so you bring him a slice of red velvet cake dolled up with cream cheese icing and waive the two cups of coffee that were tacked onto his bill for the evening.

“it’s on the house,” you practically whisper into his ear while placing a comforting hand on his sturdy shoulder.

“oh!” his voice cracks, “t-thank you so much i-” he calls, but you’re already walking away to assist another table.

his hand instinctively reaches to where yours was placed on his shoulder only moments ago. he could sense the warmth radiating from your palm, feel the stray hairs of your bangs tickle his ear, smell the artificial strawberry scent of your lip gloss.

either someone decided to crank the heat up in the diner or he’s becoming extremely flustered (it’s the second one). he scoffs down the cake you left him with flushed cheeks and tight pants, visions of himself prying your legs open and indulging in something sweeter plaguing his mind.

with a hefty sigh he throws on his coat before making his way out of the diner and into his car that’s parked right out front. from behind his windshield he watches as you greet a group of other customers before turning his keys in the ignition and peeling out of the parking lot.

he doesn’t even make it home before he’s pulling into an empty parking lot and jerking himself to the thought of you and your work uniform and your glossed lips.

covet. desire. yearn for. crave.

all very real tertiary emotions that park jay would use to describe his current feelings towards you - a server who he spoke to for two minutes max and now can’t seem to move on from.

unsurprisingly, jake teased the fuck out of him for getting stood up in the way that friends do. but he doesn’t know that jay views his failed date as a complete success.

albeit he is still mildly salty over the fact that he got stood up, all negativity is washed from his brain the moment he pulls into the familiar parking lot in front of the familiar diner and he feels the familiar pitter patter of his heart quickening its pace from behind his ribcage.

he tried to hold off on returning the literal day after he was just there, he really did, but he simply couldn’t bear it. the urge to see you, to observe you interacting with other patrons to know if you’re nice to everyone or if he got special treatment is too strong to ignore. it’s for science! he assures himself.

the dulcet jingle of the bell as he opens the door to the diner rings in his ears, and he waits to be seated. the hostess that shows him to a booth similar to the one he was in yesterday is pretty, but she’s not you. only then does jay realize that the possibility of you not having been scheduled to work today is very real. this is only worsened by the fact that he decided to come in the late morning today as opposed to the evening like yesterday. stupid, stupid, stupid!!!

while feeling like a complete and utter idiot he decides to get to work, whipping out his journal, writing utensils and laptop for the sake of not looking like a weirdo. what kind of person goes to a diner and just…. sits there. he’s gotta keep up a facade.

things are starting to look grim for jay as he sits and works and waits for the object of his desire to appear in front of him. while the retro cat clock on the wall continues its relentless ticking he attempts to swallow down his dismay.

alas, the universe must be on his side after all for soon enough he catches a glimpse of you through his peripherals. yes! you seem to be a little frazzled, gnawing on the inside of your cheek before grabbing a mop to clean up the chocolate milk that a toddler has decided to decorate the floor with; your shift must have just started.

he keeps his head hung low while intermittently scribbling in his journal or scrolling on his laptop, opting to steal an occasional glance as you assist a plethora of other patrons. the coffee he was served upon his arrival is starting to go tepid, much like yesterday, and he’s practically praying you’ll soon stride over and ask if he needs a top up.

“more coffee…” you pause briefly, “jay?”

hold up, how’d you learn his name?

his brow quirks upwards in confusion and with your hand - the one that’s not holding a boiling pot of coffee - you point to his leather bound journal that’s splayed across the table, opened to the first page. property of park jay is scrawled across the top in his sloppy handwriting akin to that of a first graders. he’s surprised you can even distinguish what it says to be completely honest.

“ahhh,” he remarks in understanding, smiling ever so slightly because hey, now you know each others names. that’s a step in the right direction.

“were you looking to order something? you know, other than black coffee.”

as if on cue his stomach growls (luckily quietly enough for you to not pick up on it) and he fumbles for the plastic covered menu to his right that slips and slides in his sweaty grasp.

“i would love to but uhh, i’m not sure what i’m in the mood for… what do you recommend?”

you roll his question around in your head for a moment, “were you thinking sweet or savoury? or if you want both, we make a pretty mean monte cristo.”

at this point if you told jay to walk off a cliff he would do it, so he orders your recommendation without hesitation.

“good call,” you purr before waltzing away from his booth and into the kitchen, leaving jay to erupt in a fit of goosebumps on his own.

while he waits he busies himself with reading an article on his laptop, getting halfway through before realizing he hasn’t actually been taking any information in the entire time. but can you blame him? his brain is… preoccupied with other thoughts.

soon enough you’re striding back over to where he’s seated, placing a steaming monte cristo with so much confectioner's sugar on top it looks as if there’s been a mini avalanche in front of him. he thanks you and is about to dig in before he realizes you aren’t leaving.

“is your business partner coming today?”

…what?

“my business partner? i don’t- OH! fuck, uh y-yes my business partner right! uh no, no he’s not coming today. i usually come here to work on my own though.”

for a moment he forgot about the blatant lie he spilled to you the last time he was here to save face, but he thinks he saved himself with that last bit.

a playful yet triumphant smirk makes its way onto your face, “that’s funny, i’ve never seen you here before yesterday.”

his eyes widen and his palms become impossibly sweaty. caught in a lie, great.

before he can come up with a witty response you just shoot him a knowing look as you walk away from the booth he’s seated in, your strawberry body spray wafting behind you and infiltrating his senses, rendering him immobile.

ugh how you make his teeth ache! he longs to douse you in syrup and powdered sugar, drag his hot tongue across your skin as you squirm and twist in pleasure underneath him. he’s sure you’d be sweet enough to give him a cavity. he finishes his monte cristo with gusto and attempts to do more work on his laptop but finds his brain to be far too frazzled to do so.

when he decides to call it quits, he leaves you a hefty tip before driving home with the taste of sugar coating his lips and the inside of his mouth.

over the span of a few weeks the two of you become accustomed to a game similar to the likes of cat and mouse.

he shows up to the diner in the late morning/early afternoon and prays that you’re scheduled for a shift; you usually are. through the course of a few hours jay manages to get minimal amounts of work done while you check on him occasionally, offering your opinions on different menu items and then placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh when he trips over his words.

he’s sure you can sense the tension as well, but in case you can’t he keeps his thoughts to himself. you could just be doing your job for all he knows.

nevertheless, it feels as if all aspects of jay’s life now revolve around you. when he falls asleep at night you’re the last thing on his mind and when he wakes up you’re the first. when he gets himself off he has to think of you or else he won’t feel satisfied, and he can only hope and pray that one day he’ll be able to feel your body against his, the warmth radiating from your body making him feel like a cake in an oven.

sure he’d love to take you out, shower you with gifts and spoil you by taking you to expensive places that would surely break the bank, but he just can’t seem to push away all of the hardly appropriate thoughts and feelings he harbours towards you. it’s becoming quite an issue, honestly.

he thinks of popping the buttons on your blouse open one by one before diving in, scattering bite marks and bruises across your tits and neck and collarbones as you writhe and plead underneath him. i need more jay, please give it to me…

god you would sound so perfect.

his fantasies don’t stop there though; they never do. he can’t help himself from imagining what it'd be like to reach up your skirt and peel your panties down your legs as if they’re strands of red licorice. he’d go so slow, taunting and teasing you before slipping himself inside of you and feeling your cunt suck him in as if you crave him like oxygen.

you smell of strawberries and he’s sure you taste like them too. the stripper red polish on your nails would pair so well with the scratches he’s sure you’d leave across the expanse of his back and shoulders. he longs to dig his teeth into your plush thighs like they’re mochi, snapping a picture of his bite mark embedded in your perfect skin to save for later use.

down bad is an understatement when it comes to jay’s desire for you. infatuation is more like it.

today starts off like every other day. the smell of burnt coffee is what pulls him from his slumbers, and the clock on his bedside table tells him he managed to sleep in until one in the afternoon. when he trudges into the kitchen he sees his roommate and friend jake, who likely also just woke up and still doesn’t understand how to properly operate a coffee machine, staring at his phone.

it’s then that jake reminds him of the plans they made to spend the afternoon at their friends house playing video games before grabbing takeout for dinner. jay curses his past self for agreeing to these dumb plans with his dumb friends since he was planning on heading to the diner today to marvel at his favourite waitress! oh well, he can still head over for an hour and a half at most before he has to return and uphold the prior promise he made.

he turns down jake’s offer of a cup of coffee and, after a quick shower, he’s flying out the door.

when he finally makes it to the place where he spends most of his days now he doesn’t even wait to be seated, just slips into the same booth as always and waits for you. the little ritual the two of you have fallen into now so ingrained into his brain he can’t imagine straying from it. alas, it’s decently busy today so he busies himself by scrolling through his instagram feed while waiting for you to grace him with your presence.

when you finally appear in front of him you don’t say anything, just shoot him your usual friendly smile while precariously placing a napkin and mug of black coffee in front of him before leaving as quickly as you came. this sends jay into an emotional spiral. oh god, did i do something wrong? he ponders to himself, brows furrowed as he tries to remember everything he said to you during your last interaction that could have potentially been misconstrued.

only then does he notice the blue ink poking out from the napkin tucked underneath his steaming mug of coffee. with shaky hands he pulls it out and reads the short message written in your refined penmanship:

my shift is done at 10:00 pm.

wait for me? :)

y/n

and just below your neat scrawl he can make out a sticky lip gloss print, a faint hint of the fake strawberry scent that plagues his mind day and night still lingering.

in this moment he should be happy, ecstatic, victorious even! his constant and obsequious devotion to you has not gone unnoticed, and at long last he’ll be alone with you in a place that doesn’t have checkered tile floors and posters of pin ups on every square inch of the teal coloured walls. but no, all he feels is embarrassment.

embarrassment because he was too much of a wiener to actually do something so you felt the need to take matters into your own hands. and embarrassment because your little napkin love letter signed off with your glossy kiss is making him excruciatingly horny. it’s like he’s in highschool all over again - yikes.

he glances at the face of the silver watch that he scarcely takes off, the leather wrist strap now feeling uncomfortably tight considering his recent spike in blood pressure. with some reluctance he decides to leave early, tucking your napkin note into his pocket before driving home while barely focusing on the road and cars in front of him.

the hangout with jake and the rest of his friends is excruciating as expected. time seems to both fly by and drag on simultaneously, and he watches the hands on his watch tick down the hours, minutes, seconds until he can finally be with you - alone. when jake finally throws the towel in jay all but runs out of the door, speeding down the now far emptier city streets before pulling into the dining parking lot and waiting (he’s 23 minutes early).

with every passing minute his heart rate quickens and, when the time reads 10:06 pm, he thinks he’s going to faint when he sees you exit your place of work and scan the parking lot briefly before making your way over to his car. the sound of his passenger side door opening feels far off as he tries to make sense of the fact that you are about to be in his car, right beside him. what the fuck.

“hi.”

“i like your car.”

“oh, you do?”

“yep. it suits you.”

“really?”

you only nod at this, flashing him a subtle grin before flipping down the sun visor in front of you to tidy up your appearance after a long and tiring shift (he still thinks you look pretty). it feels as if his fingers aren’t his own as he fiddles with the radio while gazing at you through his peripherals, watching as you rub the smudged mascara from underneath your eyes before applying a final coat of the lip gloss that he loves oh so much. how on earth is he going to last longer than 5 minutes without falling at your feet?

“sooo what do you wanna do?” jay questions, unsure if his eagerness to hear your response is because he’s genuinely curious or because he just likes the sound of your voice.

“you choose, take me anywhere,” you offer with a smile, “surprise me!”

“okay!” he responds, narrowly escaping a voice crack as he shifts his car into reverse.. he has just the place in mind.

the drive is somewhat of a lengthy one, although you don’t seem to mind. it’s warm enough to have the windows down, and jay greedily gulps down deep breaths of the fresh night air. from your spot in the passenger seat you ramble about your day at the diner, complaining about an old man who held the ketchup bottle the wrong way and promptly squirted it all over you when you came to ask how he was doing. despite all, you still manage to have a positive attitude.

soon enough he’s pulling off of the main road into an opening surrounded by woods, killing the engine and the car lights and opting to bask in the natural glow of the night sky.

“wow jay, way to be subtle.”

“what!!?”

“what do you mean what? you bring me to the city’s unofficial official makeout spot and expect me to not be skeptical?”

fuck. for the entirety of the drive over he was hoping that you wouldn’t know about the promiscuous reputation this spot has garnered over the years. he can’t give up this quickly though, he must play innocent!

“i- woahh, is that what this place is? i genuinely had no idea i just-”

“shut it jay, the first thing i noticed about you was that you’re a terrible liar.”

you’ve got him there, deception is not his strong suit. he’s about to explain himself when he notices you unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of his car, prompting him to do the same.

“i just thought it would be a nice, secluded space where we could talk and hang out… nothing more.”

silence settles over the two of you and, upon noting jay’s queasy expression, you decide to indulge yourself and tease him (just a little bit).

“what are you trying to say?” you bat your eyelashes and fake being in thought, “that you don’t wanna fuck me on the hood of your car?”

he chokes on his saliva.

“w-what i’m trying to say is that i’m a uhhhh gentleman. i’m a gentleman.”

yeah right, you think to yourself. a gentleman and a major fucking hypocrite.

“okay jay, if you’re such a gentleman then why do you have a raging hard-on from literally just talking to me?”

in the pale moonlight you see his eyes widen before he scrambles to cover his crotch, not doing much to conceal his erection that’s straining against his slacks.

“oh god i’m so sorry i can explain uhh-”

“i’m just fucking with you,” you taunt before petting his hair affectionately, attempting to quieten your giggles while jay plasters on a fake smile even though he looks like he’s about to puke. in an attempt to garner the little composure he has left he turns away from you, the cool night air soothing his heated cheeks.

from where he’s standing he’s granted an overarching view of the city he calls home. against the nighttime sky he can decipher the suburbs, the downtown area, the cafe district. upon each building there’s a small rectangle filled with yellow or white light, windows in which individual people are carrying out their individual lives; it makes everything seem so… miniscule. i mean, aside from you, nobody even knows he’s up here - and he’s still trying to decipher if that’s a good thing or not, seeing as tonight all he’s done is embarrass himself.

when he looks back you’re leaning against the hood of his car, your arms folded across your chest which sequentially shoves your tits together in a way that makes him wanna plunge his face in between them and give you a good old fashioned motorboat.

his thoughts are cut off when you speak up.

“i brought you something,” you announce before turning and opening the passenger side door of jay’s car, trifling around in your before before pulling something out and heading back to where you were standing before, leaning against the hood of his car. in your hands is a toppled over piece of red velvet cake protected by a clear plastic takeout container coupled with two disposable forks.

“sorry it’s kinda smushed…. i forgot about it.”

“no, that’s ok!” jay thinks you shouldn’t have to apologize for anything ever, “thank you.”

with a crisp pop you open up the container, moving it to sit in between the two of you before passing jay one of the flimsy plastic forks. he lets you take the first bite, stating that after a long shift you need to get your blood sugar back up. you laugh before complying, watching as jay takes a bite right after you do, his eyes rolling back as all of the sweet, rich flavours dance across his taste buds. despite the piece of cake not being in the best condition, it still tastes like heaven.

jay’s caught off guard when your hand suddenly swoops in just as he’s about to spear another piece of cake with his fork, collecting a dollop of icing on one of your nails. he should’ve seen it coming when you reach up and wipe it on the tip of his nose with a playful laugh.

“wow y/n, so original,” he sneers while wiping the cream cheese icing on his nose onto the back of his hand.

he attempts to do the same to you, dipping his finger in the thick frosting before moving to wipe it on the tip of your nose, but you suddenly latch onto his wrist. he watches with hungry eyes and an erratic pulse as your tongue comes in contact with his knuckle, licking all the way up to his icing-coated fingertip before taking his digit inside your mouth. the thick muscle of your tongue wraps around his finger, sucking away the sweetness before you pull yourself off of him. a faint pink ring of lip gloss on the base of his knuckle now present.

fuck me.

not a single word is exchanged before jay pushes himself onto you, prompting you to lean back against the hood of his car that’s still slightly warm. with your body weight resting on your elbows and your legs spreading to accommodate jay’s torso, you finally let him taste you.

your lips are soft and warm like a pastry fresh out of the oven, and when he pulls away he heaves a heavenly sigh filled with pleasure and contentment and thank fuck this is finally happening. it’s not long before you’re pressing your lips to jay’s again, one of your hands moving up to caress the shell of his ear before resting against his face.

you can feel his jaw move against your palm when he opens his mouth and drags his tongue across your sugar coated lips, inducing you to do the same. when his tongue pushes past your teeth and brushes against yours you groan in pleasure, the fingers previously gracing his face dipping down to undo several buttons of your work shirt. with his lips against yours and his tongue down your throat you can feel him giving into you, as if you’re a delectable piece of his favourite candy and he has a raging sweet tooth.

when jay pulls himself off of you you think you might just cry. luckily you don’t go without his touch for long, for when you open your eyes you watch him dip two fingers into the frosting on top of the forgotten slice of cake before smearing it across the exposed flesh of your tits and down your sternum. he promptly shoves the two frosting coating fingers into your gaping mouth, gazing at you with heart eyes as you suck them clean.

only then does he dip his head down, the tip of his tongue teasing the sensitive skin of your right breast before licking the stripe of icing off with one broad swipe of his tongue. he gives your other breast the same treatment before giving it teasing nips and kisses, using his tongue to soothe the pinch of his canines.

once he licks the rest of the frosting from your sternum he continues his descent, not stopping until the insides of your thighs are brushing against his pierced ears. in one swift movement he flips your skirt upwards, your pretty panties with a subtle wet patch now on display for him and only him.

not being able to resist seeing your bare cunt in all of its glory, jay eagerly digs two fingers into the waistband before dragging the fabric down your legs. your lacy pink thong gets all twisted and tangled around your ankles as jay struggles to pull it off, eventually managing to get it around your sneakers before tucking it into his pocket for safe keeping.

he feels his pants grow impossibly tights as he stares at you on the hood of your car with your legs spread, quite literally something that could’ve been torn right out of a playboy. without missing a beat jay dives into you, flattening his thick tongue and licking you like he would a dripping ice cream cone. it catches you by surprise and you instinctively tangle your fingers in his ebony tresses, a needy moan making its way past your lips and into the air. jay uses the tip of his tongue to explore your needy pussy, lapping up your juices and revelling in the taste on his tongue. i could die like this he thinks, and he digs his blunt nails into your thighs while shoving his head impossibly deeper.

it’s somewhat sloppy, but what he lacks in technique he makes up for in enthusiasm. it feels like he’s practically making out with your cunt and you can’t help yourself from tugging on his hair in approval. the groans he emits in response have you shuddering, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and tremble as you struggle to keep them pried open. in your lower abdomen you can feel the pressure of an impending orgasm begin to brew.

this sensation only doubles when jay shifts his focus to your clit, sucking on and toying with it like it’s a sugar-covered gumdrop. his actions have you arching your back off of the hood of his car, eyes squeezing shut as you cry and plead, “p-please don’t stop jay… never stop.”

your pleas boost jay’s ego to the max and he eats you out with unrestrained passion, alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your hole until you finish all over his mouth with a canorous cry that reverberates between his ears. he hopes to never forget that sound.

with reluctance he pulls himself off of your sweet pussy, having to push your legs apart slightly to free himself from the way they were clenching around his head. he stares at you in awe as you bask in the post-orgasm sensation, mouth agape and chest heaving faintly. your eyes, when you finally pry them open, are slightly glassy and it looks like it takes you a second to come back to earth.

your grip on jay’s hair loosened but you never fully let go, and soon enough he feels you tugging at his roots in an attempt to get him to hover over you once again. without hesitation you press your lips to his once again, tasting yourself in and on his mouth as you kiss him until you can’t breathe.

his curious hands never stay resting in one spot on your body for longer than a second before he’s exploring somewhere else, his mouth making a path from your lips down to your jaw and neck. the tips of his fingers finally stop when they reach your hips, gripping onto your and flipping you over so your chest is against jay’s car and your ass is up in the air.

he can’t help himself from ogling at your perfect form all splayed out for him. the curve of your ass is to die for and jay starts subconsciously unbuckling his belt, easing the strain of his pants against his painfully hard dick.

from your spot on top of the car you begin to grow impatient. your tits are smushed and your neck is craned and even though you just came you’re already ready for another one if it means you get to feel jay filling you up like a cream puff. luckily, you soon feel the tip of jay’s cock dragging through your folds, your still-sensitive clit throbbing slightly when he bumps into it. the sound of jay spitting into his palm joins that of the crickets and your erratic breathing, soon replaced by his sighs of delight as he strokes his cock with his spit covered hand to help lube it up.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in when you finally feel him prod your entrance with his tip, although you can sense some hesitancy. it’s not surprising when the silence is broken by jay asking: “...are you ready?”

he feels his chest tighten when you make a noise of approval followed by a meek nod, your starry eyes glancing back at him as much as you can in this particular position. with a hefty exhale he nods back before slowly starting to sink into you, a low groan making its way out of his chest as he pushes deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with your ass.

once fully inside of you he remains stagnant for a moment, needing to adjust to how incredibly warm and tight you feel if he wants to last longer than three seconds. soon enough he feels he’s garnered enough collectedness to start moving, so he does.

his movements are small, almost timid at first. like he’s testing the waters, garnering enough confidence to go harder, faster. your hushed whimpers of pleasure ring in his ears and he teasingly rolls his hips in an attempt to have you feel him impossibly deeper inside of you.

“j-jay!” you cry when he seemingly bumps your g-spot with the tip of his cock, the muscles of your waist tensing up when he does. wanting to provide you as much pleasure as possible he continues his ministrations, not altering them in any way out of fear of doing something wrong.

jay feels his stomach start to seize up as a pleasurable burn takes hold in his lower stomach, his vision blurring slightly at the edges as he shifts between groaning aloud and biting his lip so hard he’s worried he’ll break the skin and draw blood. with exercised caution he picks up the pace, ensuring that in this moment you’re still feeling as good as he is.

his cock slips in and out of your desperate, dripping hole with ease, your hips banging against the unyielding metal hood of his car with each and every thrust. it’s hardly comfortable, but at this moment in time you think you’d rather die than have jay stop - so you persevere.

“god you’re so good jay, so fucking big,” you praise as you feel your second orgasm of the night approaching steadily. most of your limbs have started to go numb from the position you’re in yet you can feel each and every nerve end slowly begin to burn up, to bring you closer and closer to release. when jay reaches down to toy with your aching clit, you’re done for.

the slight ache from the way your cunt is stretched around his cock adds to the jolting sensations that come every time he bumps your clit has you so close, so close you can taste the sweet promise of an orgasm dancing on the tip of your tongue. jay feels it too, for he throws all inhibitions to the wind and fucks you from behind with no restraint.

he can feel his release creep up his spine and spread through all of his limbs until it’s all he can see, taste, and feel. groans continue to spill past his lips as white hot light floods his senses and a blinding orgasm washes over him, which is only strengthened by the sensation of your pussy clenching around his cock as you finish underneath him. he cums inside of your wanting cunt, filling it up to the brim before collapsing on top of you with a grunt.

seconds turn into minutes and the two of you remain in place, breaths and pulses struggling to return to normal as you come down from an intense high. jay can feel his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and he scrambles off of you when he realizes he was quite literally resting all of his weight on you.

with a helping hand he helps you sit up, chuckling slightly when your knees turn to jello when you try to stand up. so, you opt to stay seated on the hood of jay’s car for just a few more moments, patting the spot beside you to get him to sit down. you’re sure you look like a mess, but jay gazes at you with something that can only be described as awe.

smitten. captivated. enraptured. allured.

the pale light of the moon casts a heavenly glow across your face, and he kisses your lips like they’re covered in strawberry syrup.

a/n: tumblr’s editing system is the biggest piece of garbage i am so sorry if there are any weird glitches or anything but i am literally seconds away from whipping my laptop at the wall out of frustration as i edit this so pls lmk if anything looks weird when this posts lawl thank you

#enhypen smut #park jay smut #park jongseong smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen blurbs #enhypen x reader #park jongseong x reader #park jay x reader #jay park x reader #park jongseong fanfiction #park jay fanfiction #park jongseong blurbs #park jay blurbs

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yamujiburo · 1 year

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The mother's day comic makes me cry; not only did Ash call Jessie mom, it makes me realize how many mother's days Ash probably missed and Delia had to spend alone! T^T

YAAAAA that boy is never home! poor delia's probably never been celebrated for mother's day 😭

#ask yam

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stnaf-vn · 19 days

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PEEPAW I MISSED YOU IM SO GLAD TO HEAR FROM YOU AGAIN!!! SENDING LOTS OF LOVE TO YOU AND MY BBY FRIEND 💞💓🩷

Get that degree, you’ve this 💪

Love yaaaaa

#sjdbdjhshs #thank you all for the warm welcome back #🤪 peepaw thing

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putting-it-into-parc · 2 months

Text

jealousy, jealousy - chapter 9: and history repeats itself

previous chapter | next chapter

summary: charles decides that he is done wasting time.

chapter 9: and history repeats itself

By a mysteriously popular request, the choice of a nightclub for the Chinese GP post-race party was quashed in favor of a much more relaxed outdoor patio. A bonfire crackled merrily as the drivers lounged on cushioned wicker couches with beers or, in the case of Lando, Pierre, and Yuki, neon cocktails with silly little umbrellas stuck in them for good measure. String lights snaked through the trellis and hung from the trees surrounding the gorgeous terrace.

“These two give me whiplash,” Alex muttered, watching Max grab Charles by the bicep and steer them towards the only couch with two adjacent seats left.

“I meeeeean…what else did you expect after that crash?” Lando responded, rudely gesturing with his toothpick umbrella for emphasis.

Both drivers sighed, remembering the dramatic scene of Max running for his life to rescue Charles from the burning wreckage of his car. The incident had spurred a whole lot of controversy regarding the speed of responses to driver accidents. Max, with his ankle, and Charles, with the inhalation injuries he’d sustained from the smoke, both sat the Chinese GP out entirely. The grid privately joked that the Max Verstappen Podcast would go right on airing episodes, just from a different location, because wherever Max went, Charles did too. They were relieved that the pair of them were inseparable again—the drivers had realized that the alternative was so much worse.

But then, an interview aired that stunned everyone.

“Max, glad to see you’re on the mend but so unfortunate about your injury. How does it feel to have to give up an entire race weekend after that DNF in France?”

Max didn’t even hesitate. “It feels great. I have a lot of trust in Red Bull’s reserve driver. I would do it again in a second.”

The reporter was clearly caught off-guard by Max’s uncharacteristically chill response to missing a race, no less. “Well, that’s quite the honorable response from Max Verstappen, everyone.” His eyes narrowed at Charles ambling towards them. “Charles Leclerc! If you have a second, can you share some of your thoughts about having to forfeit the Chinese GP?”

Charles plopped down on the seat as close to Max as he could without earning himself any raised eyebrows from the nosy reporter.

“I just feel lucky”—he gave Max a meaningful look—“to be alive.”

Yuki and Pierre screamed into the microphones so loudly that Charles rubbed his temples, wondering if his ears would ever be the same again. He glanced at Max, who was singing along and swaying to the music. Every so often, their shoulders brushed.

“It’s official,” Carlos declared exasperatedly, “from now on we’re calling you guys the Karaoke Twins.”

Unfortunately, that only seemed to boost their confidence.

Charles looked around, his heart swelling as he took in the grid. The guys who spent ten months out of the year together, the highs exhilarating like no other, the lows subterranean. Oscar trying and failing to surreptitiously brand Zhou and Logan’s backs with McLaren stickers. Checo and Carlos roaring with laughter at a TikTok of Checo’s face superimposed onto Surprised Pikachu. Alex doing a spirited impression of Lando pummeling Max’s trophy in Hungary, Lando insisting it was “not his fault” and that “Max was the one that put it on the edge”. George gazing at Alex with something in his eyes Charles could only call pure adoration. He felt a pang at the sight. He couldn’t believe that he’d never noticed before.

By midnight, most of the guys had started to filter back to their hotels.

“Seeee yaaaaa,” Carlos sang as he herded Lando and the (extremely inebriated) Karaoke Twins out of the patio.

George didn’t miss a beat. “Hey Alex,” he smiled. “Let’s go back and hit the sim with Lando, shall we?”

Alex tried to remain put, clearly not ready for the night to end, but an insistent tug on his sleeve from George compelled him to get up with a sigh.

Charles saw George open the gate and wave Alex through first. He slowed down, and turned to give Charles a lingering look. The firelight flickered in his huge blue eyes. Good luck mate, they seemed to say sadly.

Of course, Charles thought, his chest tightening a little. Always there for Charles, always listening to him cry and talk about his unrequited feelings for another member of the grid…how could it not have given him some serious déjà vu? George wasn’t exactly forthcoming with his feelings with anyone except maybe Alex, who of course happened to be the source of his own emotional turmoil. Add that to the fact that he was tall, handsome, and generally projected an air of utter confidence through the sunglasses that were, at this point, a fixture on his face, and Charles realized that it was George who picked other people up when they were down—rarely the other way around. As George walked through the gate, Charles swore to himself that he wouldn’t ever let him feel alone again, not as long as they were on the grid together.

And just like that, it was only Max and Charles. Charles and Max. Just the two of them on the couch.

History could not have repeated itself any better, and George had been the narrator all along…

“We were alone…” Check.

“At a party winding down...” Check.

Charles forced himself to meet Max’s gaze, even though he was terrified that when he looked, he would see those beautiful blue eyes flat, impassive, closed off…like they had been for so long.

But staring back at him was a ferocious intensity that sucked the very air from Charles’ lungs. Until this moment, Charles had never thought that anything but scorching tires on a hot track could bring that kind of fire into Max’s eyes. The kind of intensity that didn’t just want him…it needed him.

Suddenly, Charles knew exactly what George meant. Max was giving him those eyes.

And if he just sat there, and let this moment pass…everything would just be wrong.

So he reached out just like he did in the sauna, a million years ago. But this time, he let his entire palm cradle Max’s cheek.

“I don’t want to be tired anymore,” Charles breathed.

And he closed his eyes as he finally, finally, finally touched Max’s lips to his.

The kiss lasted an eternity. Or maybe a split second. Time was meaningless; his entire reality was the the feeling of Max’s rough stubble on his fingers, Max’s arm coiling tightly around his waist, and of course, Max’s lips. Instinctively tensing, then relaxing, then daring to press first gently, then harder against Charles’. Even though his eyes were still closed, Charles felt like the ground was shifting beneath them.

Just as he was starting to think that he might actually pass out, Max’s grip slackened, and they broke apart. Blue met green, unblinking.

“So this is what it feels like to be awake, then,” Max replied.

Charles was undone. He launched himself into Max’s arms, letting himself drown in the silky folds of Max’s polo, the spicy cinnamon of his cologne, feverishly drinking in anything and everything that made him Max. “Yes,” he whispered into Max’s chest. “There is no world without you, Max Verstappen.”

notes: WOOHOOOOOOOOOO so much ✨positive✨ scenery here: yuki and pierre, surprised checo, lando annihilating max’s trophy

one more chapter, y’all. it’s been an honor. 🫡

taglist: @fangirl-dot-com @spacegirlstuff @vroomvroomgang @perfectlyrainywerewolf

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