Just sit in my lap (tyriq withers x reader)
A/n: Guys this is my first time writing all i had was google docs, grammarly and a dream. I have no idea what im doing so requests or tips would be helpful!!! Im not gonna proofread this cause im going to sleep… Anyways thank you for reading🫶🏾
Tags: Forced Proximity, Lap Sitting, Teasing, Car Ride, Mutual Pining, And Idfk
The Golden Star Awards had finally wrapped. You were there as Tyriq’s plus-one; you guys didn't have a formal title yet, but the world knew you were inseparable, and his fanbase adored you, which meant zero drama.
Before leaving, you, Tyriq, and a few of your closest friends finalized plans for the afterparty, agreeing to ride together. As you watched the entire ballroom population start filing out, realizing every major celebrity was headed to the same bash, you knew you needed to move fast before it got impossibly crowded.
Your friends started grabbing their things, eager to leave.
"Guys, can we seriously take a breather?" you pleaded, sinking back into your seat. You were completely exhausted from hours of standing, walking, and smiling.
"Nah, girl, we are not trying to be late," Marsai said firmly, reaching for your hand to pull you up.
You resisted, slumping dramatically back against the velvet seat. "I can't feel my feet."
Tyriq paused, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Come on," he chuckled, stepping over. Before you could process it, he scooped you up in one swift motion, one hand supporting your back, the other cradling your knees.
The action happened almost too fast for a proper reaction, leaving you momentarily breathless.
As he lifted you, he let out a loud, exaggerated groan and pretended to stagger a step to the side, his whole body shaking as if your weight was crushing him.
You immediately swatted his shoulder, rolling your eyes. "Boy, stop playing!" you said jokingly, a genuine smile breaking through
He laughed, the rich sound vibrating through his chest. He readjusted his grip, holding you effortlessly now. "I know, I know. But seriously,
Your friends, who knew you guys were not officially a thing, exchanged shocked, knowing glances and huge smirks. This level of casual intimacy was new, even for the
You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, your head settling against the comforting warmth of his shoulder. He started walking toward the exit, carrying you right
through the thinning crowd.
You guys rushed outside and piled into the waiting SUV. Tyriq gently put you down while your friends quickly squeezed into the rows. Tyriq was the last one to slide in.
You turned to get in, and you immediately realized the problem: the entire rear bench and every other seat was completely taken. There was no open spot left.
"It's fine," you said, backing up slightly. "I’ll take an Uber or something. You guys go."
"Don't be ridiculous! Get in," your friend Maya insisted from the back.
"Yeah, we're not leaving you here!"
You stood firm on the edge of the car.
"Seriously, I'll catch up. Don't worry about me."
Tyriq turned his body to face the opening, his eyes locking with yours. His voice dropped to a warm, non-negotiable command: "Just sit in my lap."
Before you could argue with that tone, he reached out, pulled you toward him, and gently set you down squarely onto his lap.
"Problem solved," he murmured, his hands settling possessively low on your waist, the subtle pressure locking you in place as the driver pulled into the night traffic.
You were suddenly, intimately close, and your friends were all staring at the floor, pretending very hard not to look.
The car pulled away from the curb, and the immediate, suffocating closeness of sitting in Tyriq's lap made the air thick. Your friends, bless their hearts, were doing a fantastic job of staring resolutely at the windows or at their phones, but the tension was unavoidable.
Then Marsai did what she always does: she reached forward and cranked the radio. Of course, the first track blasting through the speakers was "Take Me Thru Dere" by METRO BOOMIN.
The change in atmosphere was instant; the entire SUV immediately started rapping and shouting along to the track.
You and Tyriq were no exception. You leaned your head back to meet his gaze, both of you laughing as you tried to hit the lyrics together.
The energy of the music was contagious, and you started bobbing your head and moving your shoulders along with the beat.
As you moved, the reality of your seating arrangement slammed into you.
You were acutely aware of the solid length of his cock beneath you, and the way your body settled perfectly over his center.
You froze for a split second, realizing exactly what you were feeling beneath the silk of your dress.
A playful, wicked thought took over. If everyone else was busy shouting out the chorus, why not mess with him?
You slowly, deliberately, began to bounce subtly with the beat a soft, rhythmic movement that was impossible to mistake.
His hands, still resting low on your hips, immediately gripped you harder, anchoring you in place. You felt his body tense beneath you even more, and as you hit a particularly strong downbeat, a low, ragged moan escaped his throat.
You stiffened, your eyes darting around the car. Your friends were still screaming the lyrics, totally lost in the music. It was clear the sound was muffled against your clothes, a private secret meant only for you.
You should stop. You really should sit perfectly still. But the music was loud, his hands were warm, and this was too much fun. He started this by demanding you sit here anyways. So let's see how he handles it.
You grinned, bouncing again. This time, there was no mistaking the immediate, sharp change beneath your weight. It wasn't the soft linen of his suit anymore; it was a sudden, unmistakable ridge of pure heat and pressure that pushed aggressively against the seam of your skirt. His muscles went rigid, locking his entire lower body.
His gaze snapped down to your face, his eyes dark with a mix of shock and challenge. He leaned in, his lips just grazing your ear as he tried to speak over the music, but all he managed was a choked, hot exhale.
His knuckles turned white as he squeezed your hips the grip was light enough not to hurt, but firm enough to convey a warning, a promise, and a need all at once.
When he finally could get his words out, all he could say was:
"Wait until we're alone."