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jamminvroomvroom · 5 months ago

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as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 1

LN x fem!leclerc reader

part 1 of 2 -> find part two linked HERE!

in which you just can’t help yourself and neither can lando…

I’M BACK BITCHES!!!! hi sorry it’s been a while but we are back with what i hope is a bang lol. i’ve missed writing so much and as stressful as this was, i’m so so glad to be uploading something! i worked hard on this one and, of course, now i hate it whoops, but my girlie @lavenderlando made this possible and worth it. that’s my hype woman fr fr. N E WAY enjoy! lemme know what you think, and use some imagination for the timeline…

songs to set the vibe: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams, 2hands by tate mcrae, love in the dark by adele, illicit affairs by taylor swift, think twice by suki waterhouse

warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!),

part 1: 10.3k words

1. oncoming traffic

“hey, osc, who’s that girl hanging around leclerc? thought he was still with alex.” lando tries his best to sound nonchalant, but oscar can see through him like a freshly buffed window, the way lando clears his throat and nervously ruffles his unruly hair.

“mate, i know you’re not the sharpest but i didn’t think you were that slow.” oscar laughs, side-eyeing the brit. he was baffled that lando was even asking. lando just shoots him a glare. “wait, you really don’t know?” lando’s glare hardens further, his eyes demanding an answer and oscar just laughs. “that’s his sister, you idiot. how have you never seen her?”

lando didn’t know how he’d never seen her. this year had been nonstop, what with the pseudo-championship battle and the never ending media shitstorm that rained on him whenever he reared his head. he’d also learned in his years of racing never to look too closely at the women in another drivers entourage. that’s how you ended up in the wall during a race. but charles’ sister? how had he never noticed?

“maybe i should go and introduce myself.” lando trailed off thoughtfully, his voice remaining playful. oscar snorted beside him, adjusting his racesuit.

“ooh, yeah, send twitter into a frenzy. it’s been boring lately.” the aussie driver drawls sarcastically, successfully dodging lando’s rapidly approaching elbow to his ribs.

“glad to know that you take pleasure in my never ending public humiliation!” lando grins maniacally, sauntering out of the garage, no longer any intention of seeking out the pretty girl in the short, black skirt. it was for the best.

he’s passing through the pit box, immersed in a groupchat thread with max and p about a trip to portugal that he didn’t really want to go on, and bam! like the idiot oscar had just accused him of being, he slams blindly into oncoming traffic.

oncoming traffic: the pretty girl in the short, black skirt.

“are you incapable of looking where you’re going?” your accent comes out thick, low with rage. it tickles his brain, like he’s heard it before. lando opens his mouth, like a fish out of water, closes it again pathetically. “seriously, for a pilot you have abysmal spacial awareness!”

“sorry… what the fuck.” lando mutters. why is this woman shouting at him like she knows him? like he regularly barrels into her?

“lando, yes?” you’ve calmed down a bit now, but you still speak through gritted teeth.

“…yes?” he replies like he’s not so sure.

“learn to look where you’re going.” you wrinkle your nose, composing yourself before stepping around him and strutting down the pitlane as if nothing had happened.

lando stands there, fixed in place, watching her walk away in utter confusion.

“smooth!” oscar calls from inside the garage, flanked by several laughing mechanics.

“go fuck yourself!” lando’s flushed red, now, and beeline’s for the pit wall.

he’s out of earshot when oscar says it.

“think he just met his wife, boys.”

lando is staring at the data on the screen when it hits him, will’s voice somewhere far away all of the sudden.

the mysterious leclerc had every right to reprimand him, because she was right. he did need to learn how to look where he’s going.

she’d told him that already, during their actual first meeting.

2. the first collision

the music was too loud, suffocating him along with the overbearing smell of cheap perfume, but the alcohol in his system and the outpouring of validation kept lando going.

three time race winner, lando norris.

five years of clawing back points and grabbing at podiums with two impatient hands had built up to this, to the incomparable glory of gracing that prestigious top step, and lando wasn’t about to let go of this moment just because of a pressing headache. max and pietra were waiting for him in a booth, surrounded by the rest of lando’s touring entourage. he was wracking up quite the tab, but it was all worth it. every slap on the back, seductive grin sent his way, made it worth it.

he’s stumbling over his feet, wasted, or close to it, grinning lazily, peering through hooded eyes. the vodka cranberry in his hand is sloshing dangerously around in the glass, his careless movements propelling him towards disaster.

lando hears the splatter of liquid, first, the scoff of disgust immediately after. long hair whips against his face as she turns, eyes wide with fury, set into a face that was never meant to look angry. he can smell vanilla, flowers. she’s an angel, turned devilish under the strobe lights, her delicate face morphing when he takes in the sight of him.

“are you fucking serious? mon dieu!” her accent twists his tummy, as does the increasingly see-through material of her tight white dress, layers of chiffon turning transparent with the stark red liquid. it’s all over her back, running slowly down the length of her exposed thighs, sticky. lando stands there, utterly transfixed and useless. she looks like she might slap him; he kind of wants her to. “of course, just stand there. fucking pilots.”

she mutters the last part and lando gulps. what does she know about other drivers? the implication makes his skin crawl for no reason, the idea of this nameless, mystery woman being familiar with his co-workers. he’s flushed with embarrassment for a multitude of reasons, opening his mouth just to close it again.

“‘m sorry!” he finally calls out to her, over the music. can the dj turn that shit down? “can i buy you a drink?” she just glares at him, gesturing at her ruined dress. “or… a new dress?” lando tries again, flashing what he hopes are puppy dog eyes.

he wants to take her back to his hotel room, lick the sweet liquid off of her frame, lap at her til she’s clean and crying. he wants to peel the stained white material off, tear it a little - it’s already ruined anyway! he can’t, though, because she’s wrinkling her nose at him, eyebrow raised, judging, and he’s awash with embarrassment all over again. the club spins and he feels nauseous. he finds max’s eyes on him, his friend stifling laughter at the tragic scene.

she’s gone when he looks back, seems to have disappeared into a cloud of distinctly expensive perfume, and her friends are curling their lips up at him, dismissive. they don’t care who he is. he wonders if they’re redbull fans, ferrari fans, perhaps.

he’s met with hoots of laughter as he slumps into the booth. he grabs a shot without a thought, doesn’t even register what liquor it is as it slides down his thick throat.

“can’t believe you just did that. only you would spill a drink all over leclerc’s sister.” max teases, elbowing him playfully.

“wha- he has a sister?” lando slurs, spluttering.

he doesn’t remember much after that.

youruser just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others.

youruser: shoutout to the guy that spilled his drink all over me!

francisca.cgomes: so beautiful so slay i miss u already

alexandrasaintmleux: love you!!!

charles_leclerc: delete this 🤦‍♂️

and other comments.

3. the watchful eyes of the big, black horse

your arm is linked with kika’s, giggling with her as you walk through the paddock.

“what about him?” kika whispers, pointing her chin towards one of the passing alpine mechanics. he’s blonde, pale, eyes dark. “pierre said he heard that he’s good with the ladies.” she wiggles her eyebrows and your cheeks heat up, swatting her playfully.

“i am not about to get a reputation for sleeping my way through the paddock.” you scoff. “plus, he’s not my type.” you shrug.

“you need to start putting yourself out there more, you keep saying you want someone.” the portuguese girl reasons. you nod sheepishly.

“i don’t wanna look for something, i want it to find me. is that pathetic? i just see how you are with pierre, how alex is with charles, and that’s what i want. something… real.” you sigh. kika sees the way your eyes gloss over with sadness.

“it’s never as easy and as perfect as it looks, babe, trust me. and anyway, maybe just focus on… the thing you were telling me about.” kika lowers her voice, giving you the look.

“shut up!” you squeal. “god, i am not discussing that here!”

“discussing what?” you hear pierre before you see him, hot with embarrassment. you’ve know him since before you could even walk, which is why you have no problem voicing your deepest, darkest shame.

“how i’m not getting laid, apparently!” you drawl sarcastically, slapping your hand over your forehead.

a poorly concealed laugh that you don’t recognise has you whipping around, eyes wide with bewilderment. it’s hearty, smooth, surprisingly warming. you practically growl when your eyes land on the source of the noise, standing next to pierre who looks embarrassed for you, his lips pressed thinly together to prevent himself from cackling.

“why is he here?” you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes so tightly shut that you feel a pang in your temples.

“as polite as ever.” lando smirks. you open

your eyes just in time to catch him eyeing up the skin of your thighs that your skirt doesn’t quite cover. is he checking you out?

“says the drink spiller.” you bite back, rolling your eyes.

“hey, i tried to pay for the damage.” lando looks utterly amused, pink lips still twisted into a punch-worthy smirk.

“so, you’ve met lando, then.” pierre grins, staring between you both. you don’t register the way he’s trading looks with kika, watching whatever this scene is unfold.

“unfortunately!” you smile tightly at the racing drivers.

“pretty sure you walked into me that second time. distracting me in the workplace, or something.” lando chimes in, enjoying this all a bit too much.

“if you did a better job at looking where you’re going-“

“okay, so this has been delightful!” pierre buts in, knowing that you have the shortest temper of all the leclerc offspring. “you,” he points at you. “get laid. you,” he points at lando. “don’t piss her off, you won’t like the result.”

kika can only send you a sympathetic smile, and remind you of the coffee date you have scheduled for tomorrow morning, as she’s dragged away from your place of social suicide. pierre winks, tilts his head far too pointedly for your liking towards lando. you fantasise, in that moment, of clawing his eyes out.

“i am sorry, for the record.” lando smiles at you, genuine and gleaming. something inside of you twists.

“for which time?” you’re just teasing now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“you have quite the attitude on you. that why you’re not getting any?”

you’re about to rip his head off and give max an even easier ride towards the championship, but lando steps forward. you can smell old spice, tangy and alluring and masculine.

“how fucking dare you-“

“because most men don’t know what to do with a woman like you. don’t know how to treat them right.” he’s so confident when he says it, leaning towards you in a way you can only describe as enticingly.

“oh, and you do?” you scoff, arms crossed. you must remain combative, or else you’ll give in. is this rock bottom?

“i’m free tonight if you wanna find out.”

“i’ll be far too busy doing literally anything else.” you can only pray he hasn’t caught the tremble in your voice, the ever so slight quiver of you bottom lip. you chew it into your mouth to stop yourself.

“but not anyone else.” lando doesn’t pose it as a question. it seems that he’s got you all figured out.

“whatever helps you and your hand sleep well tonight.” you spit. there’s heat between you, sparking into a flame that could burn down your whole life. you feel eyes burning into the back of your head - green ones that match yours. you falter. “i’m done here, lando. have a fantastic evening.”

he takes another liberty, leaning in even closer. spearmint and the idea of a million bad choices flood your every pore. you can feel the big, black horse watching over you, now, set into bright yellow, adorned with ferrari red. looming, warning, turning you in.

“you know, something tells me i will.”

lando disappears first, not even giving you a chance you spin on your heel and storm off. you want to kill him, hurt him, sink your teeth into that bronzed, thick throat, claw into his back, down, down, down… until you’re on your knees and-

“why were you talking to lando?” charles’ voice cuts through your filthy thoughts and you sign yourself over to god immediately, purifying yourself as you banish the visions of delicious sin. after all, you’re standing in the presence of il predestinato, the prince of monaco, a saint to many. but to you, he’s just your brother. your big brother, always in the way, always meddling, always, always watching. you sigh.

“friendly conversation.” you quip, short. you love him dearly, would take bullets for him, but, god, he keeps you on a leash. leo’s has more give than the conceptual tether charles has to you, keeping you close, boyfriendless, out of “trouble”. you know why, and deep down, you’re beyond grateful, all things considered. you can’t admit that, though.

“that’s not how pierre described it to me.” charles raises an eyebrow, voice bitter despite the clear attempt he’s made to try and hide it.

“fucking pierre.” you grunt. “it’s nothing, he came over with pierre. i was with kika. first time i’ve ever even had a conversation with lando.” that didn’t result from a drink being spilt over you to the point of transparency. you leave that bit out - charles really doesn’t need to know that.

charles mulls over your words, eyeing you suspiciously. you want to stomp your heeled foot like a child, a brat, scream and shout and kick and wail that he has to back the fuck off eventually, but you just smile innocently and pray he believes you.

“okay,” he mutters, making his peace. “i don’t want you getting too… familiar with him. bad reputation. he used to be quite sweet until his last breakup and now he will fuck anything with a pulse.” you wrinkle your nose at your brothers crude words, feeling the need to jump in and object. but why? you don’t know lando, you don’t care about lando. you press your lips into a thin, painful line. “you should go back to the hotel with alex. looks like i’ll be here late.” he rolls his eyes, you know how it is.

“sure, good luck.” you offer, smothering the rage that pools in your belly. let me fucking live, you think. just because he’d had to swoop in and save you from yourself once before, didn’t mean that you could live like this forever.

he has lit a spark under you, one that spreads like a wildfire towards the flame that lando ignited minutes before. if only your brother knew how to keep his big mouth shut, you wouldn’t be spurred on to bad behaviour.

if only lando hadn’t spilled that drink over you, maybe you wouldn’t be opening his instagram profile and sending a message request.

a place. your room number. a time.

you only wish you’d gotten to see the devilish grin on his face when he received it.

lando can’t want you for the reasons that other guys do. your status as charles leclerc’s little sister, and the gateway to your brother that you provided, meant nothing to the brit. that’s why you’d let him have you; he wouldn’t try to take more than you wanted to give.

4. generous

the knocks are soft against the door, yet they manage to have every hair on your body standing to attention. you’re quick to let him in, itching to get him inside and away from prying eyes. this is clandestine, secret, could even feel somewhat sacred once it’s over, and the last possible thing you could ever need is for another soul to know what you intend to do with lando, what you intend to let him do to you.

“hey.”

“hi.”

you stare at each other.

he steps forward. you don’t move away. he takes it as an invitation to close the space entirely, so close that, there it is again: oldspice, except this time it’s mixed with something fresh, shower gel you guess, sea salt. his curls are crisper than they were a few hours ago, still damp from the shower he must have just taken.

“what changed your mind?” he asks.

“i was feeling generous.” you deadpan. he bites back a laugh.

“generous, huh?”

“very.”

“considering your alleged dry spell, i’d say i’m the generous one, no?” his voiced is edged with something dark, dropped a few octaves. you could absolutely squirm under his gaze, but you hold strong.

“you know where the door is if that’s how you’re gonna be.” you coo, mocking his seductive undercurrent. all he does is flash his teeth, grinning cheekily, his way of accepting your challenge, your attitude.

“i think you want me to stay, honey.”

honey. you fear it works on you. the gap closes even further, you fear it’s your doing.

“you’re only getting this opportunity because i invited you here.” your resolve is slipping. you’ve admitted that you want him in your pathetic bid to hold the power, when the truth is, you want him to pounce on you, strip away every layer and barrier and make you see stars, feel euphoric.

“okay, honey, whatever you say.” he chuckles, cruel and taunting. “so, how dry of a spell has it been? wanna know what i’m working with.”

lando touches you then, lightning shooting down your arm as he traces from your elbow down to your fingers, featherlight, barely there, a ghost of a touch that haunts you so deliciously. your fingers intertwine. you initiate it, but really, it’s his fault. this is all his fault.

you try and laugh, but it sounds broken, quivering it’s way out from your dry throat.

“dry.”

he just stares at you, expectant. he needs to hear more, needs to know. he craves details about you, has ever since you body slammed him outside his garage - leading to some very covert instagram stalking on his behalf and his oh so convenient way of worming his way into a conversation with pierre when lando could see that the other driver was on his way over towards you. it’s pathetic, maybe, but he craves you the way one craves nicotine forever after just one puff of a cigarette. he has you, just for tonight, maybe longer if he gets this right, so he will know everything he needs to know so that he can touch you just how you need.

“i’ve only… it’s been a while.”

he sees right through you.

“you’ve only what?” he presses. he needs to know.

“i’ve only done this once.” you whisper. it’s the meekest he’s seen you. he loathes it.

“and was it good?” lando murmurs so attentively that you want to cry.

your fourth interaction with this man, and he has you melting.

“not really.”

“do you trust me?” his nose is bumping yours. you’re locked in, twitching. he has both hands on you, now, one still laced with yours, the other trailing up your arm, tempted to brush his fingertips against the taut skin of your neck.

how the fuck can i trust you? i don’t know you! what the fuck are we doing? what the fuck am i doing?

that’s not what you say, though, because for some reason, you are so sickeningly comfortable and okay that you worry that something is wrong with you.

“yes.”

“then this time will be so, so much better. i’ll make it all better.”

when his lips meet yours, you’re surprised at how good it immediately feels. you don’t know what you were expecting, but his lips are plush, enveloping yours softly, but firm enough that you sink into him, allowing him to cement that grip on the side of your neck that he’d been taunting you with.

he kisses you like he’s sure of everything, like this is second nature and you’ve done it a thousand times. you want to kiss him a thousand times. why it’s so good, you’re not sure, but it gives you the confidence to lean into him, grab the bottom of his hoodie in your hands and tug.

“be patient, ‘n i’ll make you feel so good, honey, i promise.” he mouths down your cheek, nipping at your jaw, down your neck until he finds that special spot below your ear. he nibbles there, lapping his tongue over your sensitive skin like he already knows your body. you want to see just how familiar with you he can get. “but,” he punctuates the word with a sharp bite. you both dread and revel in the mark it will leave. “you have to behave for me, okay?”

his words are whispered against the shell of your ear and you shiver, eyes rolled back already. you wonder if he’ll get them to do a full three-sixty rotation in your skull.

“‘kay.” you breathe, mindless, floating away. it’s already better than last time.

“‘kay’?” he mocks. “no, honey, you gotta promise me. can you promise me?”

“promise.” you lock eyes, conveying your obedience. his eyes blow wide, pupils dilating to shove away the mysterious bluey green. his teeth grit. he knows he’s hit the jackpot.

“good girl.”

you’re stripped naked, mustering all of your energy to shove his clothes off, his hoodie flying away, his sweats kicked into a faraway dark corner. you’re left naked, him in some increasingly tight boxers, and you tumble into the freshly made bed. he slinks over you, crawling on his hands and knees, predator stalking prey.

he stains your inner thighs purple, tugging your legs over his shoulder, huge hands warm and rough as they manoeuvre your malleable body to his liking. lando presses kisses to every inch of skin, dragging his tongue over your bare flesh before he spreads you open, sucking and tasting and savouring. he moans into you, open and wet, and it ricochets off of every nerve ending, sending your body taut and arched, catlike. you’re trying to get away, whilst simultaneously grinding yourself closed to him, feeling that broad, sharp nose of his bump messily and firmly against your clit, an ache spreading through your pelvis that makes you shake and shake and whine his name out to the gods.

“taste like heaven.” lando’s words are simple, straightforward, make you bite your lip so hard you taste something metallic seeping over your tongue. “so tight, even around my tongue,” he slurs, drunk, lost. “gotta stretch you out for me. that okay, honey?” you can just about make it all out, and you nod furiously, pleading.

his teeth graze your clit.

“say please.”

“putain! please!” you kick your feet out when all he does is laugh into your wet flesh.

one finger grazes through your folds, parting them and collecting a mess of your slick. he looks transfixed as it drips down his finger.

honey.

you watch him watch how he opens you up, revelling in the utter fascination painting his features, pussy drunk and curious, transfixed.

“can’t believe you’ve never been fucked right.” he coos, breathless, genuinely shocked. you quake under his skilful hands and his awful, sinful, dirty mouth.

“more.” you plead, not ashamed by your crude begging. you’re a mess for him already, might as well get the full experience.

“think you can take another?”

a second finger slides in, rocking against your walls, testing the waters. you writhe, meeting his movements with shallow thrusts of your hips.

“faster, i need- mon dieu! anything, lando, please just-“ he really goes to town then, scissoring your dripping cunt open, curling and twisting and grinding the two digits so deep that you see white, hazy chocolate coloured curls and deep, glazed over eyes.

“that’s it, honey, there you go. so fucking pretty for me.” lando whispers the last bit, awestruck, and you’d take the time to wonder why if you weren’t on the verge of tears, overstimulated, ears ringing. your orgasm crashes over you like a surge of electricity, tearing through your body like it’s trying to escape and take cover. it’s so strong that you’re damp everywhere, sweating and crying and so fucking shocked that it can feel like this.

“lando.” you pant, mouth dry, voice hoarse.

“you did so good. was it okay?” he rubs small circles into your hips, eyes flitting between your own and where you’re still leaking for him. he manages to tear his eyes away, like a trance has broken, snaking up your body until he’s laying next to you, propped up on his elbow. he hovers over you, raking his eyes over the rising and falling lines of your body.

“pretty good, i guess. didn’t know you had it in you.” you tease, smirking lazily up at him.

you want to keep staring at him but your vision is blurring as your eyes begin to droop. what a long day it’s been.

“high praise coming from you.” lando reasons, laughing lightly. he strokes over your hipbone and you jolt, curling around onto your side. his skin is warm against yours, soft and smooth, and you dare you press your even closer, shy, as if he wasn’t just buried mercilessly between your legs. you hum in response, spent and languid. “you wanna get some sleep?” he asks.

“we didn’t… i mean, you didn’t…” you trail off, awkward, gesturing towards his middle.

lando just smiles.

“guess i’ll just have to come find you in monaco.”

you flush, cheeks burning as you consider the fact that you’re gonna be in the same country, a very small, very private city. who knows what could happen?

you fall asleep quickly, easily, far too comfortable next to the british driver. if you were to ask, he’d say he left immediately. he watches the way you breathe far too intently, ever so slowly pulling his clothes back on. he doesn’t know how long passes, but what he does know is that he can’t wait to have you like this again.

5. some guy

you sink into the oversized armchair, sitting back and letting kika and alex talk, nattering backwards and forwards about nothing in particular. or, maybe you’re just zoned the fuck out.

you can’t stop thinking about the way he touched you, your body littered with evidence, dark purple bruises turning a stale green between you thighs. when you woke up, you initially wondered if it was all a dream, but the dull, sweet ache thrumming through your bones told you just how real it really was. you went through the motions, embarrassed momentarily before deciding to just embrace it, try to bask in the way he’d made you feel: sexy and desirable and electric.

it was just a shame that it had to be him. that’s what you kept telling yourself, at least.

kika’s nodding along to a story alex is telling about leo, about to respond with a similar anecdote about simba but she gasps instead, almost spilling her americano all over herself. this gets your attention and you open your mouth to ask her is she’s okay, but she beats you to it.

“my god, what is that?” she chokes, staring at you. or, well, your neck.

you flush, heated, blood pooling in your cheeks.

you’d tried to cover it up, seriously, applying layer after layer of concealer and strategically placing your hair in such a way that you prayed it wouldn’t be noticeable, but nonetheless, there it is, clear as day. red raw skin tinged purple around the seams, branded into your neck like some kind of public humiliation ritual.

fuck you, lando fucking norris!

you avert eye contact, leaning away from alex who is now making a point of leaning in, going as far as to push your hair back so she can get a closer look.

“oh my gosh!” she squeals, giggling with kika.

you take a long, slow gulp of coffee, not caring that it burns your tongue.

“who was it? holy shit, was it lando?” kika whisper shouts and you officially drop dead on the spot, watching her connect the dots so easily.

“oh jesus, no! no!” you lie, feigning offence, your leg bouncing shamefully under the table. the two girls eye you suspiciously, but you assume you’ve played it off well.

“who, then?” alex asks. you wonder if kika has told her about yesterdays interaction.

“just- i don’t even know, some guy.” you huff, playing with a loose thread hanging from your jumper.

“some guy? after what you were saying yesterday? okay, babe.” kika teases sarcastically. “no, cmon, who?” she pouts, leaning in as well.

“just… someone.” you squeak, unable to look up at them.

“okay, well, we will find out eventually.” alex wiggles her eyebrows and you stick your tongue out, mock-glaring at your sister in law.

“no, the fuck you won’t.” you try and fake some confidence, scrapping for a mere shred of control.

yes, the fuck they will, because when you leave for the bathroom, you leave your phone unlocked like the utter fool you are. god has it out for you, you figure, because that’s when he chooses to strike.

the message lando sends you is short and sweet, and alex chokes on a piece of cake when kika starts gesturing wildly at the notification that pops up on your screen.

for when you’re lonely at home and can’t find anyone to fuck you right.

attached is his address.

they don’t breathe a word when you come back, but they share a knowing smirk when they catch you smiling at your phone, and again when you ask if either of them have anything with a higher neckline that you can wear for the race.

youruser has just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and others

youruser: race day, big slay

user1: LEO!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest girl in the world

user45: lando what are you doing here 🤔

6. manners

“are you even listening to me right now?” charles scoffs, finishing off his drink out of annoyance. your eyes snap back to him, the thumping music vibrating through your body.

“sorry, just tipsy.” you purse your lips, attempting to lock back in on whatever he’s saying, but it’s hard. it’s hard, because sprawled out in a booth across from where you stand at the bar, lando is watching your every move.

you’ve managed to avoid him thus far, no contact since you’d liked the DM he’d sent you a few weeks back. you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t think of him and what you’d done at literally every waking moment, so the way he’s watching you, hooded eyes sparkling under the strobe lights, has you squirming. it was easier to tell yourself that, surely, it wasn’t that good when he wasn’t right in front of you in a half unbuttoned shirt. the navy blue fabric is wrapped around his body deliciously, taut where his muscles are, the colour popping against his tanned skin - which you can practically feel writhing against yours.

you wish charles would go away so you could crawl into that booth and commit public indecency.

speak of the devil, your brother seems to have clocked that you have zero interest in what he has to say so he huffs, ordering another round for the table and telling you he’s going to find alex. he shuffles away and you subtly search for the british drivers mindful eyes, but he’s disappeared, left his entourage in the booth. you swallow disappointment that makes you feel pathetic, head in your hands against the bar top, but the lightest brush of fingers against your waist drags you out of your spiral. you know immediately.

“did you dress like that for me, or are you just a slut?” he’s grinning, light and teasing, surprisingly sober, tipsy at most, just like you.

“i could ask you the same.” you smirk, blatantly eyeing his exposed chest. he shrugs, leaning in.

”might have left an extra button undone just for you.” lando winks and you hope the lights hide the way you flush.

“sure you did, just for me and every other girl in here.” you challenge. his eyebrows furrow.

“nope. just for you.” his eyes darken, just a tad but enough that you notice. your mouth runs dry. “you never replied to me.”

“not true, i liked the message.” you smile coyly, sipping your drink. your lipstick smears against the rim of the glass and you watch him stare at the print, tongue wetting his lips.

“you are something else.” he shakes his head, pushing his curls back. it could be frustration, but he still seems at ease, like he’s enjoying your combative nature. you smile into the glass, hoping he doesn’t notice. he does. “how much have you had to drink?”

“this is my second.”

“you sober enough for me to take you home?” lando’s face is mere inches away from yours now, and you can feel the pull, desperate to crawl into the space that still remains and lose yourself there.

“depends.”

“on?” you truly exasperate him, but he thinks he loves it.

“if you’re actually gonna fuck me this time.” you casually take another sip, playing it off as if your crude words had no impact on you.

lando’s eyes widen at your bluntness, and so does his grin.

“meet me by the valet.”

lando leaves, and you quickly follow, downing the remnants of your glass and touching up your lipgloss.

alex watches from her booth, and pulls out her phone.

to: kika gomes

oh, she’s deeeeefinitely sleeping with lando!!!

pietra leans towards her boyfriend, close enough that he can hear her over the noise.

“isn’t that charles’ sister?” she shouts, pointing to the bar, where lando is stood.

max analyses the way he’s stood, leant against the bar, nice and close to the ferrari drivers little sister. he knows that look on lando’s face, and he knows it far too well. max pinches the bridge of his nose.

“oh for fuck sake.”

it’s weird, sitting with him in silence. he’s only had half a drink, able to drive back through the winding hills to his apartment. you stare out the window, mostly, when you aren’t staring blatantly and curiously at lando. you can see the sea, glistening under the moonlight and you wish you could focus on that instead, but he’s there, and you have to admit - begrudgingly, albeit - that he’s stunning. his hands wrap around the wheel tauntingly, as if he’s trying to convey how he’ll touch you, all consumingly. your thighs press together, your fingers clasping together as if you’re subconsciously stopping yourself from reaching out for him prematurely.

as if he can hear your thoughts, his palm smoothes over the skin of your bare thigh, right where your dress has ridden up, without a second thought, nothing tentative about the way his digits curve around your skin.

“so, you’ve been thinking about that night, then?” he breaks the silence, glancing over at you.

“what makes you say that?” you whisper, not even meaning to but the silence had been so heavy.

“well, you only left with me on the condition i’d bend you over.” he laughs loud, whole and warm. you fight it, just for a second, but then you join in, giving in to him. you can’t help it, he makes it easy.

“you got me.” you concede, rolling your eyes. without realising it, you’ve relaxed completely into his touch.

he pulls off of the road and into a private garage. you breath hitches.

“do you want a drink or…?” lando gestures blindly towards his kitchen, walking further into the apartment.

he’d spent the elevator ride up to his place leant against the opposite wall, taunting, making you wait. he’d let himself look at you, totally unabashedly, raking his eyes over your frame, meekly tucked into the corner, shy under his intense gaze but frustrated by his lack of urgency.

“i’m good. didn’t come here for a tea party.” you hope your words push his buttons. they must, because he turns on his heel, facing you again, suddenly towering over you.

his eyes are steel, face serious, and you don’t know what to do. you’ve never seen him look at you like this.

“i think we need to work on your manners.” he speaks condescendingly, down at you, and if you weren’t so needy, hadn’t been waiting weeks, you’d turn around and leave just to really prove his point. but you stay planted, looking up at him through mascara coated lashes, softening you gaze until you’re sure you’re conveying faux innocence.

“maybe we can work on them in your bedroom.” you truly don’t know where you get this confidence from, he’s the second man to have ever touched you so intimately, but he’s magnetic, drawing you out of your own head and straight towards him.

he tugs you towards him, kissing you messily, right there in the dim light of his kitchen, pawing at your waist hungrily. his tongue brushes your and you moan, humming into his mouth at the faint taste of mint and vodka, long gone but you can taste everything. his thick fingers find your ass, hoisting you up until you have no option but to wrap your legs around him, your dress scratching at your thighs the higher it rides up, but all it does it turn you on more, rough sensations on sensitive skin.

lando walks you blindly to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and you wonder how many times he’s done this to get it down to muscle memory. the thought makes you nauseous, drags you mercilessly right back into your head, and you pull away, your lips barely brushing his.

“why me?” you breathe, panting into the shallow space where your mouths have parted.

“what?” he whispers, confused.

“why do you want to do this with me?” you have to check, past insecurities rising to the surface like bile in the back of your throat. he looks genuinely baffled and you feel foolish for ruining the moment.

“why wouldn’t i? you’re gorgeous and-“ he cuts himself off, his eyes glazing over. the demeanour slips and you’re stuck, his arms still tight around you, holding you close in the empty space at the foot of his bed.

“what?” you whisper.

“you’re part of the same life.” the way he looks at you says words that he can’t.

words that will sound too shallow and too selfish and too meaningless, even though you will understand them because you’re here for similar reasons, and therefore, they will mean too much.

you can’t take things from him. you can’t fake it. you can’t break him into a million pieces when he finally discovers that you want him because of what he can give you.

you nod once, firm.

“i get it.” you smile sadly. lando wants to know more. he can find out some other time. a moment of clarity passes between you. “kiss me, again?” you ask. he delivers immediately.

kisses you all the way onto the bed. kisses you while he helps you take off your heels, while he drags the zipper of your dress down. you both feel safe now, understood, and that really moves things along.

“so pretty.” he mutters into your skin, shedding you of your tight dress.

your shaky fingers work over the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off of his broad shoulders, taking in the sight of him all over again. you’re left in your panties, braless already, and he gawks down at you, like he’s seeing everything for the first time. it makes you feel powerful.

“can you hurry up?” you writhe, arching into his touch. he smiles, covering his body with yours and pressing a kiss to your lips. his fingers slide over the curves of your body, finding the band of your underwear and toying with it.

“want me to take them off?” he purrs, trailing his lips down your jaw to just below your ear.

“now.” you beg, eyes fluttering closed as his warm breath pricks at your skin, teeth nibbling. “no marks.” you whine, flashing back to the weeks over knowing looks and attempts at covering the last one up.

“what were we saying about manners, hm? gonna need to start hearing some ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’, okay, honey?” he bites down again, harder this time, and you squirm underneath him, your soft belly moulding to each dip of his abs.

his fingers dip into your panties, finding your clit amongst your wetness. you just about bite back a moan, but you can’t help but roll your hips into his hand, his fingertips gliding easily through your folds.

“va te faire foutre.” you mutter, teeth gritting at the pleasure and his words. go fuck yourself.

“i’ve lived in monaco long enough to know what that means.” lando whispers, pinching your clit once before plunging a finger inside of you.

you hiss, head thrown back, the feeling of him smiling against the hickey bittersweet. and to think, it was almost healed. you can’t help but keen into his touch.

“more,” you pant. “please.”

“you learn fast.” lando approves, and quickly fulfils your request, adding another finger.

they flex inside of you, grinding deeper and deeper until you’re whimpering his name and leaking down his wrist. your arms wrap around him, nails digging in to his smooth back, his ropey muscles tensing under your firm touch. his thumb bumps your clit, over and over, pushing you to the precipice, so close you can taste the impending orgasm on your tongue.

“it’s so good, merci, god.” you sound wrecked already, and lando can’t wait to see how far he can push, how far apart he can take you.

“that other fucking loser didn’t know what he had, jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” he rasps, admiring the rise and fall of your chest, how your breasts bounce with every thrust of his fingers, the way his hand is glistening in the low light of his bedroom. his words are your undoing, the awe in his voice sending sparks shooting through every nerve ending.

“lando, ‘m gonna… putain!” the way you switch languages is sexy to him, tells him how scrambled your brain is, and he twitches in his boxers. when you cum, it’s as gorgeous and as enticing as the first time, and he jolts against your hip, desperate to get inside of you finally.

“you’re so beautiful.” he groans, pulling his fingers from your entrance. he stares blindly at the mess you’ve made on them, salivating, remembering the way you taste. it’s a no brainer for him, and he licks both digits clean, giving you just a moment to recover.

“i need you.” you whisper, your legs still spread, quivering slightly.

you pull him in once more, his covered crotch grinding against your slick and you cry out, the friction sending you into overdrive. his teeth dig into your shoulder, the sensation entrapping him, leaving him weak, ready to give you whatever you ask. he pushes his underwear away, and your eyes go wide.

“you can have me,” he grunts, running his hand over himself. “think you can take it?” he wets his lips and you think you could cum again at the sight of him. sweat slicked, tight curls falling over his eyes, lips licked pink and kiss swollen, hard and heavy in his own hand, body curved over yours possessively. you’re a simple woman, really.

“i think i can try.” you want to sound confident, but it comes out as a squeak.

he sits back on his knees and brings his free hand to cup your jaw.

“i’ll go slow with you, honey, okay? you can tell me to stop.” lando promises. “you sure you want this?”

you nod, pouting up at him.

“i want you, i can take it.” you manage through a deep breath.

the stretch is brutal, splitting you in half. all you can do is breathe, watching the way he watches you, and that’s what you hone in on, his pretty eyes watching where he’s filling you up. when he bottoms out, he stops for a second, scanning your face for discomfort.

“are you okay?”

“c’mere.” you coo, and he falls back over you, paws at your waist. “move, lando.” you plead.

it’s slow, deep, makes your toes tingle. you can feel each and every drag of him against your walls and it makes you dizzy, a knot twisting and tickling in your belly. your fingers are twisted around him, around his biceps, crumbling a little bit every time he flexes in your grip.

“oh, mon dieu.” you’re whimpering, legs wrapping around him like vines, tighter and tighter with every buck of his hips.

“‘s it feel good, honey? yeah? you’re so fucking tight for me.” lando chokes, licking over the sweat on your collarbone. “‘m i making it feel good?” he sounds so cocky, sexy, but there’s a soft edge around his words. it matters to him, how he’s treating you, this, a certain delicateness hanging around your intertwined bodies like a cloud.

“so good, lando, so fucking good.” the words scratch your throat raw, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

“no, no, lemme hear you, pretty girl. can feel how close you are for me.” you can hear the edge to his voice, can tell the end is near for both of you, the way his words wobble despite his best attempts at hiding it. “need you to look at me, and i need to hear you.”

you don’t even realise until then that your eyes are shut, screwed up tight as the pleasure rolls through your body, flooding each and every one of your senses. you free your lip, and everything pours out, whines, raw slurs of his name.

“i’m so close.” he grunts, watching the way your face moves, hanging on to every micro expression, the way you battle to keep all of your attention on him.

“fill me up.” you urge, squeezing his hips between your thighs. his eyes widen, the request slowly registering, and he blinks away the voice in his head telling him to do it.

“you know i can’t.” he’s firm, sensible even if you aren’t.

“want it so bad, lan, please, wanna feel it.” you reason, cupping his face and pushing his curls back.

“not tonight.”

“yes, tonight. give it to me.”

“i said no, don’t be a fucking brat.” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

“know you want it.” you whisper, seductive and devious. you can see his resolve slipping, tightening around him.

before you can say anything else, your hands are scooped up, pinned above your head. he’s right over you now, your hips perfectly aligned, and he’s driving so deep that you swear you can feel him in your tummy. his thrusts resort to a harsh grind, digging into each other with every snap of his pelvis.

“you want it so bad? huh? fine.” he growls, forehead resting against yours. “want me to cum in you, fuck it all back in? yeah, honey? you gonna keep it all in for me?”

“whatever you want.” you promise, eyes rolling back in your head. “just- please, please do it.” you pant, mouth dry.

“that’s it, pretty girl, take it all for me.” he buries his face in your neck, nipping at your collarbone. “doing so good.” the words fan against your throat, hushed, leaving you warm from the inside out, brainless.

when you spill around him, it’s at the same time as he lets go, and he fucks you through your orgasms. you go limp beneath him, taking it, letting it all wash over you, letting him wash all over you. you feel like you can’t breathe, suffocating under the weight of him and the reality of what you’ve just done. again. for some reason, you don’t care, and decide that you’ll do this again and again, anytime he’ll have you. not that you’ll ever tell him that…

“fuck.” he exhales, rolling off of you carefully, but the overstimulation - and then lack thereof - makes you wince, and he strokes your hip gently in apology.

“that was better than i thought it would be.” you grin, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“you know, these are starting to sound kinda backhanded.” he beams, laughing breathlessly, but just as he begins to relax into his bedspread, he remembers. “oh fuck, shit, we need a pharmacy!” lando bolts up so that he’s sitting, scanning the room blindly for his clothes. you giggle and he snaps his head towards you, panicked.

“no, lando, we don’t.”

“all of that ‘uh, fill me up, please lando you’re so sexy’ talk means that, yes we absolutely do! fuck, how much is plan b these days?” he’s spiralling now, tugging at his curls.

“first of all, i’m on birth control. second of all, i don’t sound like that, and most importantly, i did not call you sexy.” you smirk, stretching out your tight muscles.

“that’s the most important part? woman, you nearly killed me.” lando gasps, slumping back down into bed.

“‘m sorry, couldn’t resist playing with you a little. good to know we share a kink, though.” your smirk turns into a coy smile, and you swing your shaky legs out of the bed, your feet sinking into the plush rug.

“oh, yeah? what other kinks are you hiding from me?” lando sits back against the headboard, tucking his hands behind his bed. you have to look away, or else you’ll accidentally fall back into his bed.

“guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” it makes him quirk an eyebrow, a look of understanding settling over his face.

“so this is gonna be a regular thing, yeah?”

you’re putting your underwear back on when he says it, searching for your dress, but his words make you freeze. he sounds hopeful, and it makes your chest pang… wait, is that your heart?

“i don’t… i mean, as you unfortunately know, i haven’t done this before. i don’t know how this works.” you say it so earnestly, so innocently, that his whole face softens, awestruck and boyish.

“i want it to be a regular thing.” he says it gently, like he’s offering it to you, to the universe.

“okay. me too.” you whisper back, shy under his gaze.

“are you… like, do you think you’ll be sleeping with other people?” lando squeaks, doing a terrible job of playing it cool.

“for so many reasons, no.” you grimace. “but if we’re doing this then i wouldn’t want to anyway.” you say softly. your dress is back on now, but he has you flustered, and you can’t quite get the zipper.

“lemme help.” he offers, and he’s out of bed and before you in a matter of seconds. his calloused fingers graze your skin as he pulls the zipper together and up, adjusting your dress back into place. it feels so terrifyingly intimate, exciting, and you can’t bring yourself to move away. “i wouldn’t want to either.” he breathes the words quietly into the small space between you.

“okay.” you don’t even try to hide the way you beam, staring up at him.

“i’ll take you home, yeah?”

“yeah.”

7. worth it

and so, begins a clandestine affair, touches in the shadows, subtle glances, watchful eyes.

one of you calls, the other comes, sneaking through doors that neither of you should enter, leaving bars a few minutes apart, making up excuses to get out of plans.

there’s the time lando has you bent over the end of your bed, tears leaking into the mattress, slick everywhere. he’s so deep this way, hammering away at the special spot nestled within you that he’s become very familiar with. one of his hands is dragging your hips back to meet his thrusts, the other splayed out across your back, holding you down.

your phone rings. it’s alex. you were supposed to be a brunch twenty minutes ago. you groan out, frustrated in every sense of the word.

“answer it, honey.” lando grunts, pulling you towards him even harder. you whimper, shaking your head, words dying on your tongue. “go on, i know you can do it. wouldn’t want alex to worry, would you? let her know you’re okay.” he coos, condescending.

he’s so arrogant, full of it, and you like the challenge. you can’t let him win, can’t let him revel in how fucked out he has you, so against your better judgement, you grab the phone, fingers shaking as you answer.

“hi, love. i know, i’m late! ‘m sorry, i’ll be there soon!” you wince at the way your voice shakes. you hope she can’t hear the way you’re panting, or the sound of his hips hitting yours.

lando slows his hips, hitting deep at such a torturously slow pace that feels a million times better than it already did. your free hand flies back, swatting at him.

“where the hell are you? i was worried!” alex sounds relieved, but there’s something else in her tone that you can’t quite decipher.

“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.” you lie, throwing your younger brother into the line of fire. you know, for credibility. alex is silent for a moment.

“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” and with that, she hangs up the phone. you release a breath you were holding, crying out when lando immediately speeds up again.

“i hate you.” you choke, grinding your hips into him. lando just scoffs, sliding a hand under your belly, flush against the mattress. he finds your clit, playing with it, urging you quickly towards your release.

“no, you don’t.” he laughs. “you better cum for me, pretty girl, i think you have somewhere to be.”

“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.”

alex has to bite back a laugh. she stares across the table, where arthur is having an avid debate with charles and joris. arthur, who had been with her and charles for hours.

“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” alex hangs up the phone, giggling to herself. leo stirs in her lap.

“what’s so funny?” charles asks her. she shakes her head.

“oh, nothing, she just overslept.”

there’s the time where he has you hiked up on your kitchen counter, messy curls tickling the insides of your thighs. he’s licking at you ravenously, dragging his tongue up and down, twisting around your clit in circles.

you’re tugging on his hair, holding him close to where you’re aching, dripping, slicking up the lower half of his face. he’s groaning into you, starved and desperate. it’s been a week since you’ve seen him, had him like this, the longest you’ve done without him since the first time you’d had sex. its untamed and needy and you fear what it means, the way you’re so addicted to one another.

you also haven’t seen your brother for a week, something you realise when you hear a key turn in the lock, down the corridor. you have seconds to react, the noise washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water. you squirm, pushing a very confused lando away, managing to kick him lightly in the head as you leap from the counter.

“mon dieu! fuck, i’m sorry!” you gasp.

“what the fuck is going on-“ you cut him off, slapping your palm over his mouth.

you glance around frantically, looking for a way out of this. there is but one option available.

“the balcony! just- fuck, get out there!” you shoo him over to the small window, begging him with your eyes. “please! i’ll get rid of him!”

you can hear footsteps approaching. you’re sweating now, smoothing down your skirt and your hair anxiously.

charles calls your name, rounding the corner and walking into your kitchen, just as you pull the window closed again.

“shit, you scared me!” you fake, clutching your chest. you can feel your heart hammering.

“i did knock, sorry!” charles looks you over, scanning the kitchen. “are you okay?”

“yeah, fine, sorry, i must have been out of it. i’m in the middle of an assignment.” you lie.

“oh okay, well i can always go…” he’s looking at you weirdly, and you fear he knows something, that he can tell.

“can we get dinner tonight? i’ll book.” you offer, scratching your neck.

“yeah, that’s great. are you sure you’re okay?” your brother asks, turning to leave.

“promise, yeah, i’m just so busy with work, deadlines and all that.” you wrinkle you nose, feigning distaste.

“well you can tell me all about it later, okay? love you.” charles says sincerely, smiling.

“love you too.” you call, listening for the sound of the door closing behind him.

you immediately rush for the window, throwing it open, peeking your head out. lando stands with his back against the wall, shivering in nothing but a t-shirt. you look at him sheepishly.

“get back in here.” you tell him, standing back to give him space to crawl back through. “‘m sorry.” you giggle.

“you’re lucky you’re worth it.” lando teases, stalking towards you and wrapping you in his arms. his skin is cold against yours, and you huff, try and push him off. “hey, i’m cold!” he pouts.

“you know, you’re lucky you’re worth it, i could have just let him murder you.” you reason, looking up at him. your hands slide around him, returning his embrace, warm hands skating up under his shirt.

“you wouldn’t.” he says simply. “i’m way too good in bed.”

“you keep telling yourself that, norris.”

“i don’t need to, you tell me more than enough.”

lando leans down to kiss you, then, nothing all that unusual but it always feels like a step too far, intimate in a way that you two usually aren’t. you kiss him back regardless, because really, you love it. he always tastes minty, divine when you let him lick into your

mouth.

“i believe we were in the middle of something.” he whispers.

“remind me.” you breathe.

and there’s also the time where he’s fucking you in his drivers room, the massage table thudding dully against the wall with every hard thrust.

his race suit is pulled down just enough, your dress bunched around your hips, and he’s slamming into you mercilessly.

the whole thing was a blur, really; you’d always vowed that you would never have sex at a race track, but that promise was old news, now, broken the very second you caught the way he was staring at you. his eyes were hard, unreadable, jaw clenched as he glared at the man talking to you. you were just being friendly, catching up with franco, but lando wouldn’t have it, not after such a shitty race. one harsh snap of his neck towards the mclaren motorhome had you quickly excusing yourself. you knew what it meant.

“you don’t talk to me at the track but you let him?” lando growls, rutting into you wildly. you cling onto the damp material of his racesuit, head thrown back.

“was just saying hello.” you gasp out, opening your eyes to look up at him. he’s staring down at you, angry. it’s hot.

“i don’t wanna see you talking to him. you see how he was looking at you? fucker should know who you belong to.” he hisses, sliding his hand between your legs. “you’re gonna cum for me when i say, okay? and you’re gonna be nice and loud, honey. no holding back.”

“lando i’m-“

“when. i. say.” he cuts you off, punctuating each order with a snap of his hips.

all you can do is take it, dripping all over him. you can hear it, the wet squelch of him filling you up.

“should mark up this pretty neck, yeah? let everyone know that you already belong to someone.”

you barely register what he’s saying, but the words leave you hot, pushing you even closer to the edge and you clamp down around him.

“squeezing me so tight, bet you’ve wanted me all day, huh, honey? saw you looking at me earlier, pretending like you weren’t when i caught you. couldn’t just asked and i would’ve fucked you right then.” lando grunts. you wail out, thrashing against the makeshift bed and he nods, letting you know it’s okay.

“that’s right, pretty girl, that’s it. been so good letting me have you. cum for me, baby.”

baby.

it’s the first time he’s ever called you that. it’s the final push you need.

he collapses into you as he finishes, sweaty curls plush against your bare shoulder. you’re both panting, spent, basking in the moment of silence.

“thank you.” he whispers, sealing it with a kiss against your neck. it tingles, a foreign feeling settling in your belly, shooting through your veins.

“you drove really well.” you reply, quiet. his breathing halts, a self deprecating laugh filling the room.

“don’t do that.”

“what?”

“act like you were watching my race. charles have a great drive, that must have been a lot more interesting.”

“maybe, but i was watching you.”

your words hit him hard. he can’t help but kiss you. you swallow a moan, and a whole heap of feelings that you’re too scared to tackle.

“you better go. will i see you in brazil?”

“yeah, lando. you will.”

youruser just posted on instagram:

tagged: francisca.cgomes

liked by: alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

youruser: hola chica 🤭

francisa.cgomes: my love my loveeeee

user21: once again i am asking. why are you here lando? 👀

user56: stop inventing!

alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful girlies

user66: icon mother slay incredible

PART TWO IS HERE!

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devotion-disorder · 9 months ago

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be careful what you wish for...the village Killian's from is having a bit of a population crisis right now, and having a nice little human come by could be just what they need...

Oh noooo....I'm just a naive human lost in this big forest with no one waiting for me...would be a shame if some beautiful elves whisked me away and brainwashed me into thinking I'm their pet/breeding machine and only need their "love and devotion". That would be terrible /silly

- 🩵

wdym the beautiful elf men do not, in fact, have my best interests in mind and were planning something nefarious from the start </3 I was just gonna write down some quick thoughts but it kinda got out of hand LOL

Content warning for: implied drugging (hypnotics, aphrodisiacs), dubcon/ noncon touching (nothing explicit though), manipulation, slight obsessive/ yandere themes, general elven condescension?

Imagine that you’ve accidentally wandered too deep into the forest and lost your way, your shoes hardly holding up in the rough terrain, and the last remaining rays of the setting sun are snuffed out by the overgrown foliage…

To make things worse, you walk right into some sort of trap - a stumbling step is all it takes to activate the runic trip switch, and a suffocating cloud of purple gas is the last thing you remember before things fade to dark…

How clumsy of you! Good thing Priest Killian happened to be on his evening walks when he spotted your pitiful form twitching and writhing in the hunting trap he’d set up; carefully he scooped you up and went his way back to the village. Only the most observant would be able to discern that the Priests’ unmoving smile seemed a bit wider than usual.

It was a trap the elves set up for hunting animals, he’d explained. The poison was almost enough to be fatal, had he not been there in time to save you. It’ll also take a bit for all the toxins to be out of your system. No worries though, because Killian offers to take care of you in his quarters until you’re up on your feet again.

You don’t even remember if you’d managed to give a response, what with lead-heavy limbs and relentless migraine pulsing in your head. Luckily, Killian treated you with utmost care. 3 meals a day (along with the antidote treatment) brought to your bed (well, his bed), and spoon-fed to you because you were too weak to even sit up. He massaged your stiff muscles and brushed your hair. He ran warm baths and washed you – and even then he never opened his eyes – so at least there was some comfort in that.

Under Killian’s care you gradually regain your strength, save for the occasional dizzy spell and fatigue. But he saved your life after all! Feeling indebted to him, you offer to stay longer in the village to help around. While Killian’s expression is ever-unreadable, you can’t help but sense a bit of…amusement from him upon your suggestion. Regardless, he agrees – so long as you agree not to wander too far outside the village, because it’s very dangerous out there, he said.

And of course, he maintained a watchful eye over you, shadowing your tottering form as you went around introducing yourself to the other villagers. How cute.

You worked whatever odd jobs the elves had for you. which isn’t much at all. Mostly just menial tasks, or perhaps relaying messages. Things that they could’ve easily done themselves with their magic, but it’s fun watching an over-enthusiastic little human do it instead, so eager to please. You would say they are…endeared, perhaps. Or maybe they’re just looking out for you, what with your unfinished recovery. Anyhow, the elves are charmed by the newfound presence in the village.

Killian gifts you a new set of clothes, made by the local tailor (you don’t remember visiting a tailor for measurements at any point though, strange). To help you feel more at home, he said. It's pretty, a delicate garment that flutters cool against your skin in the warm summer heat, with an unmistakably elven style of elegance. It is a little short but, well, elves are known for being tall so maybe they're not used to human proportions? The white silk is a bit sheer in places, and you tried to ignore how it clung to the contours of your body when you sweat…

You hadn’t expected elves to be so openly affectionate. Being a long-living race known for their high culture and intelligence, it made for the perception that they were maybe a bit prudish, engrossed in their endless pursuit of finer things to care about lowly desires. But you suppose the elves are as curious of you as you are of them. You got to know some of them quite well, and soon it was routine for them to envelop you in their embrace. They pet your hair and nuzzle into your neck (Killian said something about how common skinship is in elven culture), at times slipping their digits beneath your clothes…sometimes you don't really remember, because the medicine still made you a bit sluggish. But it's ok! Their affectionate nature is a surprise but one you welcome. You think.

During all of which, your treatment continued. Just a little longer, Killian promised. The side-effects seem to show no sign of waning, if not worsening at times. Sometimes you struggle to recall what has happened and what has not. The elves didn’t seem to mind, gladly cradling your tired body when you are overcome with sudden bounds of weakness. You poor little thing, they cooed, one hand combing through your hair to distract you from their other that wandered along your body.

Some days the medicine leaves you feeling more flushed than usual, and a strange feeling you can’t quite place invades your senses; a deep, frustrating kind of yearning that throbbed in your core. You assume it's the side-effects of advanced elf sorcery/ enchantment in your antidote treatment. It’s a tad embarrassing, but you can’t really do anything about it when the elves (if not the Priest himself) check in on you so frequently.

Your only reprieve comes when Killian slots himself snug against your smaller form at bedtime. Were you always this close? You’re not sure if you recall, trying desperately to suppress the suggestive thoughts flooding your brain. His cool hands trail over your body, and it feels way too good against your overheating skin, so good that you can’t even think about resisting as his lips come crashing on top of yours, when he slips his arm underneath your waist to push you closer, closer against him.

Stumbling out of Killian’s quarters in the dead of night, confused, and your vision blurred by hot tears, all you can think about is getting away from him, from this godforsaken place. The other elves stepped out of their houses from the commotion. It was as if something in the air shifted. Their friendly, curious pretenses have dropped completely, leaving a ravenous hunger and unyielding need in their place. The way they leer at your body, the disheveled elven outfit failing to provide much cover, makes your hair stand on their ends. The elves close in on you, their concerned voices laced with something unmistakably sinister. You’re trapped.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you out of your stupor.

“Now, now, I’m sure we’re all very excited about our little one here, but everyone will have their turn sooner or later.” Killian explains. He leans close to your ear, whispering in a volume only audible to you. “Look at you getting everyone so riled up already. Aren’t you such a needy little pet?” You’re paralyzed in fear, but his husky voice in your ears is still setting your nerves alight.

“I’ll give you two choices. Either you let me 'take care of you' back at home,” his arms snaked around your body again, lithe fingers fanning across your thighs. “Or we’ll give everyone a show, and maybe let them get...a preemptive taste, as well. What’ll it be?”

#ask #🩵anon #Killian posting #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #elves don't really do hunting because they have livestock btw. and it was Killian that set up the trap 😔#elf fever hours

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1800-fight-me · 5 months ago

Text

Safety in Your Arms

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, threats of violence, stranger danger i.e. stalking but don't worry Logan saves the day Word count: A bit over 2k Synopsis: Logan protects you from the unwanted advances of another man and shows protectiveness and care you didn't know he had for you. Author’s note: I'm thinking this might need a part two, let me know what y'all think- I hope you enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

There was a cold panic that shot down your spine. Fight or flight, you’d learned the technical term, but now experienced it for yourself.

The five minute walk between your work and your apartment had never felt so long. It all started with a creepy customer- which was a regular occurrence at your job- but this customer took it far beyond creepy.

He tried to make too much small talk, stared too much, made a few too many over the line comments, and was entirely too pushy when asking for your phone number. Your one male coworker escorted him out and you thought that was the end of it.

Hours went by, you assured your coworkers multiple times that you were fine and you were safe, and eventually you were the last one left to close and lock up.

But only one block away from your workplace, you had the feeling of being watched- of being followed. And it was just your luck that your phone was dead and you’d forgotten your charger at home.

You changed your route, taking one that was a bit longer but also more well lit and populated. With a glance back you confirmed your worry, that it was in fact the same creepy guy from hours before.

Your heart pounded with terror as you contemplated every option for safety. Your apartment building required a code to enter, so you sped your walk, hoping if you slipped into the building and shut the door behind you that it would be enough.

“Hey,” the man’s voice called out, but you refused to look back.

Your apartment building was within sight, but the man’s catcalls and jeers were also getting louder and closer.

“Hey, c’mere pretty lady! I’ve got somethin’ for ya!”

Your whole body shuddered in fear. Your next door neighbor stepped outside of the front door of the apartment building and you nearly sobbed in relief.

“Logan!” you called out.

He looked up in surprise, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he saw the stress in your entire demeanor.

You practically ran to him and threw your arms around his torso in a hug he clearly did not expect. He hugged you back, but you felt him stiffen as he looked behind you.

That was one thing about Logan, he was extremely perceptive and quick to notice any form of danger.

“Hey bub, what can I do for you?” he said to the man behind you in a gruff tone that was not at all welcoming as he gently maneuvered you so that you stood safely behind him.

You gripped Logan’s strong bicep as you peered around his shoulder at the stalker.

“I was just-”

“Just nothin’. You better leave her alone,” Logan interrupted.

“C’mon, I was just inviting the pretty lady to have a good time. Does he speak for you?” the creep asked as he made eye contact with you. The malice in his eyes made your heartbeat spike again.

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” you said nervously.

He glanced between you and Logan as if uncertain.

“She just told you, she’s mine- so fuck off,” Logan growled. A different kind of shiver went down your spine.

“You live here?” the man asked.

“No,” Logan growled before you could even open your mouth. “But I do, and if I see you around here again it’ll be a problem.”

The man looked at Logan and finally seemed to take in the gravity of the situation, the danger that the large muscled man protecting you could pose.

He gulped and nodded, yielded a step back as Logan took a step forward- muscles tense and fist clenched.

The man turned and scurried away. You took your first full deep breath in several long minutes.

Logan watched the man until he was completely out of view before he turned to you. He placed a large comforting hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

“Princess,” he said in a gentle voice.

He pulled you into a hug as a tear fell from your eye and made its way down your cheek. You were enveloped in his warmth and woodsy masculine scent and finally felt safe.

“Thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend,” you said as you pulled back and wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk. Your breath caught and you bit your lip as you looked up at him and saw such care and concern on his handsome face.

“Who was that guy?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Some crazy customer from earlier today, my coworker made him leave, but I guess he came back and waited until I was leaving alone….”

Logan’s brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth. “That motherfucker,” he growled, “I’m walking you to and from work tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I do. And I’ll do it until I’m sure he isn’t gonna bother you anymore. And if he shows up again…” he trailed off as his claws extended from his fist in an action that seemed involuntary due to his rage.

A shiver ran down your spine. You had no idea Logan felt so protective over you.

“Thank you,” you said in a soft voice, “I appreciate it.”

This was not helping your ridiculous crush on your neighbor. From the minute he moved in with your friend Wade, you had heart eyes for him.

The Wolverine, he took your breath away without even trying. With his large stature, huge muscles, and handsome face- you were a goner. It didn’t matter that he was older, way out of your league, and generally altogether grumpy. You were head over heels for him, and you were certain he had never noticed you before, that he merely thought you were Wade’s annoying friend.

But you adored him, you adored the gentle heart you knew he buried under that gruff exterior, and displays of protectiveness such as this only proved what an amazing person you already knew he was.

“I’m headed to meet Wade at the bar, d’you wanna come?” he offered.

You nodded eagerly, not wanting to be alone after the stress of the day.

“Lead the way,” you said with a smile.

—--------

“Look who I brought,” Logan said as you walked behind him into the bar and approached a booth in the back corner.

He stepped to the side so your friends could see you. Wade, Vanessa, and Dopinder sat at the table, already laughing and drinking beer.

Wade gasped dramatically and exclaimed, “Princess Cupcake!”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed you and showed your amusement.

“Hey Wade,” you replied then greeted the others.

“What? No comeback? I’m hurt! What’s wrong?” he asked, speaking in that way too fast pattern that was his norm.

Logan placed a hand on your back and leaned down closer to your ear as he asked quietly, “You wanna sit down? I can get you a drink- what do you want?”

You smiled and sat down as you were told and told him your drink order.

Wade wiggled his non-existent eyebrows at you in a rather suggestive manner.

“What’s up between you and peanut? Did you finally fu-”

“No,” you interjected quickly.

“Wade, she’s clearly upset and Logan is helping her,” Vanessa said as she elbowed her boyfriend.

You sighed and explained the events of your afternoon. During your explanation Logan came back to the table with two drinks and sat next to you. His large form crowded you into the corner of the booth, but you didn’t mind.

“That motherfucker,” Wade said in anger at the end of your story. Vanessa gave you a look of solidarity, you knew she had experienced plenty of creepy men in her life.

“That’s what I said,” Logan replied, clearly somewhat amused.

“We should kill him,” Dopinder said.

“Calm down wannabe-vigilante,” you muttered which caused everyone to chuckle.

“Don’t worry cupcake, ole honey badger and I will make sure you’re safe,” Wade reassured.

You nodded and said, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think he’ll return. Logan can be pretty intimidating, it was amazing - I’m sure he scared him off.”

Logan grunted in agreement, although when you looked at him you could’ve sworn there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

As the evening stretched on, you were thoroughly distracted from your troubles and amused by Wade’s antics and Dopinder’s stories.

“So, Princess Cupcake, any luck on the dating front?” Wade asked.

You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt- a nervous habit, and without looking up from the table said, “Nope.”

Logan let out a soft sigh of what your aching heart could only hope was relief.

“I’ve never asked, what’s with the nickname?” Dopinder asked.

You shrugged and gestured to Wade.

“When Blind Al and I moved into our apartment this sweetie pie here brought us cupcakes!” Wade explained.

“Good thing it was cupcakes instead of a pie because being constantly called sweetie pie would make me want to die,” you muttered and everyone laughed.

“What about the princess part though?” Dopinder asked.

“Just look at her,” Logan mumbled and you and everyone at the table looked over at him in surprise.

“She’s got that innocent sort of pretty you only see in big bright eyed animated Disney princesses,” Wade said.

Embarrassed at the attention you changed the subject immediately. Your constant filthy thoughts about Logan proved you were anything but innocent.

“But why is Logan’s nickname peanut?” you asked quickly.

Wade shrugged, “Just fits.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

You smirked and said, “I bet we could come up with a hundred nicknames for him that would fit better.”

“Like what?” Wade challenged.

You glanced over at the large handsome man sitting next to you as your face warmed.

Daddy was the first word that came to mind. Wade chuckled in a way that made you momentarily worried that mind reading was one of his mutant abilities.

The silence at the table stretched on, becoming a tad awkward, before you said, “Nevermind I’m not very good with nicknames anyways.”

“Yeah, it’s probably best to leave choosing nicknames to the professional,” Vanessa said in a joking tone to ease the tension. You shot her a look of gratitude and she winked at you before she effectively changed the subject all together.

Eventually, after enough drinks and conversation, you declared that it was time for you to go home.

“C’mon!” Wade protested. “The night has just begun!”

“I wish I could stay but I’ve got work in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Logan said in a soft but firm tone that left no room for argument as he stood and took a step back to give you room to get out of the booth.

You nodded in agreement and smiled in pleasant surprise as he offered you his arm. You wrapped your arm around his large bicep and linked your elbows as you followed him out into the cold winter air.

The city glowed in warm orange light that reflected on the wet pavement. Your breath was visible in frostbitten wind, and you shivered slightly which caused you to burrow further into your coat and move closer to Logan and the heat his body provided.

He then pulled his arm from yours, causing you to momentarily panic, but just as swiftly he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

You smiled and filled the short walk with endless chatter, you used to worry that your yapping irritated him, but the small uptick of his lips- the ghost of a smile- showed fond amusement and filled you with warmth enough to make you forget about the cold.

“What time do you leave for work in the morning?” Logan asked as you reached the door of your apartment- his apartment door only a few steps away.

“Eight o’clock,” you replied as you unlocked the door.

“But really, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll see you then,” he interrupted in a tone that indicated you would not win this argument.

Then he did something you didn’t expect at all, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead.

You grinned, your smile wider than probably ever before as you said, “Goodnight Logan, see you bright and bleary eyed tomorrow.”

He chuckled as he bid you goodnight and you walked into your apartment and shut the door only after he smiled at you again before disappearing behind his own door.

You shut your door and locked it before leaning against it. You muffled your squeal of excitement with your hand- all too aware how thin the walls are. The stressful events of the day completely forgotten.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan wolverine #logan x reader

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monstersholygrail · 9 months ago

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A Surprise Visit (1k Celebration Fic)

Tentacle Monster x fem!reader — multiple orgasms, breeding, primal play, aphrodisiac injection, rut, dub con, bondage, double penetration, aftercare

a/n: Also just wanna thank you guys for 3k as well! Sorry it took me so long to get to this

The clock ticks by, the noise echoing throughout the empty room. You tap your pen against your desk in time with it as your thoughts drift past your home and go to your Tentacle Monster bf. The house far too quiet without him around.

You should’ve been used to this by now, you really should’ve! Your Tentacle Monster bf always traveled back home around this time of the month. Always very insistent to keep up visits with his family.

And you totally understood. You’ve met his parents and family members a handful of times. Never on their homeland but here in your home with your bf. Tentacle Monster bf was always very firm about the dangers of the swamp in which his family lives in its depths.

So you let it go, believing he of course knows best. Every month you wave your bf off as he leaves home and disappears for about a week or so. Always coming back right when he says he will. But something was… strange this time around.

It seemed to hit your bf about a week earlier than usual. His moods and behaviors changing as they always did around the time he left to go see his family. Growls so low you almost couldn’t hear them leaving him whenever he sees someone else looking at you. Making sure to rub himself against you until you were fully drenched in his scent. Always keeping at least three tentacles on you at all times, his clingy behavior somehow worsening these last few days.

In fact, he couldn’t keep himself off of you. Always squirming into your clothes as soon as you walk in the door, slipping them off with ease. Before you knew it he was fucking you on every available surface until you two got into the bedroom where he brought you to orgasm after orgasm until you passed out wrapped up in his slick tentacles.

After about five whole days of this, your Tentacles Monster bf brought up the idea of him leaving for his trip early, sitting you down in the breakfast nook, his tentacles wrapped around your hands. Though he respectfully discussed it with you, you still felt a bit ambushed— like it came out of nowhere. You tried to be as understanding as always but seriously, what the hell was going on with him? You were seriously worried, he’s never gotten so wound up to this extent.

His abrupt departure only made you worry more, not wanting to assume the worst but it’s as though your thoughts have a mind of their own as they travel down those dark pathways anyway. All with absolutely no way of getting answers due to your bf being miles away while you’re stuck here sitting at home.

Well fuck that.

No longer fine to just wait around, you want to take action. You want to be with your bf and help him through whatever’s going on with him. As well as get some much needed answers. Your determination fuels you, causing you to charge in head first.

Right into the Eternal Swamp, a home for a large portion of the Tentacle Monster population. Mostly due to its natural resources…and the fact that it makes any human who dare enter to go insane. All to feed the land’s inhabitants.

You look out the window of your car as you arrive, the edge of the swamp barely even visible over the fog. Bringing with it a cold sense of anticipation that you chalk up to nerves. What the hell are you thinking going in there? This is crazy, you’ve definitely gone crazy. But your heart beats wildly in your chest, urging you to go to your bf.

Not letting another moment of hesitation take you, you swiftly exit your vehicle. Walking with steady and firm steps into the swamp. That strength and courage slowly leaves you the deeper you go into the swamp. The fog growing so heavy you can no longer see the sun or even what’s standing right in front of you.

You make your way through the swamp as best you can, peering down at the ground to make sure you don’t deep dive into its waters. You can’t help but start second guessing your choice again. The anticipation building the longer you’re in here. Why? You’re not sure but it sends a chill running down your spine.

Tentacle Monster watches you through the fog, his vision blurry with the haze of lust clouding his mind. His rut sending him spiraling into insanity, surely. It was worse this month, that was a given. For one it hit him sooner than usual and now here he was, conjuring your figure before him just so he can find a little bit of relief.

But your scent was so potent, your form so vivid, and your voice as you call out his name so clear. It takes a moment for it to click in Tentacle Monster bf’s mind that you’re actually here. And when it does, his brain goes haywire. Nostrils flaring, body crouching into position. A predator posed to strike and take down its prey.

You remain as clueless as ever. Hopelessly trying to look through the fog and find your way to your bf. Praying he finds you before you’re eaten alive. A snap of a branch echos throughout the swamp and you gasp, head jerking toward the sound. Your body’s frozen as if staying still might hide you from any lingering beasts. At a subtle swish within the fog your mind fires off alarms, body forcing you into flight or fight. And boy do you fly.

Bolting forward you suddenly couldn’t care less what you might run into. And it’s a good thing as a second later a ferocious growl rings across the swamp, making your stomach drop. Your bf chases after you, all that’s processing is that his mate is running from him. Tempting him with your sweet pussy in order to drive him mad.

Pumping your legs as fast as they can go you stumble through the swamp. Cursing under your breath in a panic as you smack into branch after branch. It’s slowing you down and whatever’s after you must know this place a lot better. Just as the thought occurs, a tentacle snaps out, curling tightly around your waist. It’s caught you.

A scream rises from your throat as you thrash around, desperate to escape. Tentacle Monster bf growls in appreciation as your body grinds against his long tentacles. First with your little game and now this, your bf is more than ready to take you and ask questions later. He needs inside of you. More of his tentacles eagerly wrap around your enchanting body, sharply pinning you down onto the swamp floor and spreading you open.

For a moment a spark of familiarity shoots through you but you’re a little too busy freaking the fuck out to pay it any mind. Your thoughts are quickly diverted anyway as you feel tentacles sliding your panties to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to open air. Tears spring to your eyes, this can’t be happening.

Tentacle Monster bf plunges inside you with one swift thrust, his tentacle’s slime acting as a natural lubricant as well as an aphrodisiac. Getting you all nice and ready for the fucking of a lifetime… Now that he’s inside you, your bf’s mind clears a little. Allowing his curiosity and fear for your safety to mix amongst the lust. His big body leans over you, noting your shaking form with unease. “What are you doing here, my mate?”

You gasp, your body instantly relaxing as your eyes shoot open to be met with the lovely vision of your bf. It was him. It was him the whole time and it’s him now inside of you. Tears of relief quickly replace tears of fear and your bf is quick to comfort you, his tentacles caressing you in a way that’s now soothing instead of suffocating.

“W-was worried about y-you. Acting weird. Needed to understand,” you stammer out, your body slowly ceasing in its shaking. Tentacle Monster bf sighs, knowing he can no longer hide this from you.

“Every month my kind go through an intense need to breed their mates. We cannot stop pumping our seed inside their fertile wombs until it takes or the week ends. During that time I come here to relieve myself.”

Even now your bf is slowly rocking his tentacle inside your pussy but you don’t think he notices he’s doing it. Meanwhile you can’t help but moan, the aphrodisiac causing your body to tingle and your mind to grow hazy.

“I-I can help you,” you offer and you can see your bf’s eyes flashing with barely controlled restraint.

“But I would not want to break your fragile human body, my heart,” he grits out. His tentacle picking up pace anyway and you arch into it, body squirming against his tentacles again.

“Can handle it. Promise,” you whisper as the aphrodisiac swells across your body, making your pussy slick with need and your veins run hot with lust.

That’s all the restraint your Tentacle Monster bf has. The moment the words leave your lips he’s withdrawing his tentacle only to thrust two more in your pussy. You cry out as he takes you like a feral beast, fucking his tentacles into your perfectly restrained body.

Your bf growls, the heat of his rut roaring to life and pumping through him with urgency. His tentacles move you at a brutal pace. Forcing you to meet his every thrust without being able to escape anything he’s giving you. Using you like his perfect little fuck toy as he takes his pleasure from your body and returns it to you tenfold. And you love it, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as your body jerks in time to his rhythm.

With his tentacles plowing inside you, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build. And god is it good, the way he’s fucking you taking you to heights you’ve never known. Your cries of pleasure charge the air around you and your bf lets out a rumble as he ruts into you even harden until you’re thrown off the edge.

But he doesn’t stop there. Tentacle Monster bf keeps fucking into you, never letting the pressure ebb away as your essence coats his tentacles. Needing more. “Come again for me, love. Come on, I know you can do it. Just one more,” your bf snarls like a monster possessed.

His words repeat in an endless cycle as he snaps his tentacles inside your cunt over and over again. Working you through so many orgasms you lose count. You release all your senses to him and happily. Getting completely lost in the feeling of him as his tentacles fill your every hole till you’re squeezing down on him in every possible way.

The sky is dark by the time your bf gives you his final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and spraying your fertile womb with his seed. Chilling noises rip from your boyfriend’s throat that you’ve never heard before yet you can’t help but feel turned on by it as your body twitches with overstimulation.

Tentacle monster bf slumps on top of you, his tentacles covering every inch of your body in a way that has you smoothly falling down from relentless pleasure. Both of you finding peace in a place you once thought could drive you mad. Maybe it has. But as your bf whispers words of affection and praise in your ear saying how well you handled his rut and how he can’t wait for his eggs to grow inside of you… you don’t really care if you have gone mad.

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mariasont · 1 month ago

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dangerous currents

sharing a wall with hotch means resorting to a midnight swim, you weren't expecting him to join you

pairing: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warnings: fem!reader, midnight swim, reader alluding to some naughty thoughts, hotch accidentally grabs readers ass prompt: here wc: 1.2k

Honestly, you don’t recall consciously deciding to go swimming. One minute you’re wrestling with sheets that somehow manage to be both itchy and disappointingly thin, trapped in the endless loop of your overly chatty brain, and the next you’re thigh-deep in moonlit waves, saltwater lapping around you like a peace offering for your misery.

If you’re being brutally honest (and lately, brutal honesty seems to be your new best friend), your insomnia might have something, just a smidge, to do with Hotch lying just inches away, separated by drywall and what might as well be actual paper for insulation.

Your hearing has leveled up overnight, picking up every breath, every toss and turn from his side.

It feels wrong, intrusive even, but also exhilaratingly intimate.

Which explains why, at two in the morning, you’re out here, counting on saltwater to settle your overactive mind and extinguish the stubborn heat flooding your face.

You’re mid-float when your instincts snap you upright, adrenaline spiking so fast you almost inhale a lungful of ocean.

There’s a shadow on the shoreline.

But then it steps forward, moonlight carving out the unmistakable angles of a handsome face that sends your stomach tumbling into your feet for a different but no less stressful reason.

Hotch.

You could laugh or cry, but instead, you quietly make your way towards the shore, waves breaking around your ankles.

“You scared me half to death,” you mumble, hugging your arms around your chilled body and feeling every bit like a reckless kid who’s just disappointed the one person she desperately wanted to impress.

“Do you know how unsafe it is to swim alone at night?” His lips press into a straight line. “Anything could’ve happened, and none of us would have any idea.”

“Sorry,” you exhale, sincerity tangled up with humiliation as your gaze flickers upward through wet lashes.

You mean it. Of course you do — he looks worried, and that worry always seems worse when it’s aimed directly at you.

Hotch studies you for a second, then asks, “Do you plan on coming inside anytime soon?”

Going inside would be simpler. Easier. You could neatly sidestep this entire messy situation.

But the moment you close the door behind you, it’s back to square one — too quiet, too dark, thoughts screaming at you in surround sound.

A single creak of his bed, and suddenly you’re in dangerous territory. What if he sleeps shirtless? Or in boxers? What if that sound he just made is the result of an indecent dream?

And then, somehow, you are the indecent one, palms tingling with a restless need that used to feel rare but lately shows up with frustrating frequency.

All because of him.

“I think I’ll stay out for a little longer,” you say, tossing a forced shrug. “The ocean hasn’t tried to kill me yet, so I figure we’re on decent terms.”

Hotch arches a brow at that, clearly unamused. He glances at the ocean, then back to you, a silent calculation taking place behind dark eyes.

Then, without warning, he grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion, folding it once before tossing it onto the sand.

“What are you doing?”

He gives you a faint, reckless half-smile. “Making a bad decision.”

You laugh, more out of shock than anything else.

He steps toward the water, shirtless, and suddenly every thought you’ve ever had vacates your head.

Sure, yesterday you’d seen him on the beach, but that was distant and crowded, shielded by sunglasses and casual team conversation.

Here, now, it’s just you, him, and the unsparing glow of moonlight revealing every agonizing thing you absolutely shouldn't notice. Like the dark dusting of chest hair, the disciplined sculpt of muscle across his torso, the line of hair drawing your gaze lower, lower —

You swallow roughly, stepping deeper into the water to physically pull yourself out of danger, but your gaze betrays you once more, darting sideways in helpless fascination.

“How did you know I was out here?”

“You’re not exactly quiet.”

Your blood turns to ice, then instantly flares hot. How did it never occur to you that if you could practically track his breathing patterns, he could easily have heard your shifting, your whispered curses, or worse, that one barely suppressed sigh when your imagination got carried away earlier.

“I guess not,” you mutter, “I didn’t realize you were listening.”

His laugh is quiet but genuine, and you’re surprised to find yourself smiling in return. How bizarre yet wonderful it is to witness the softer version of Hotch, miles away from the person he has to be at Quantico. You suddenly want very much to keep him like this.

“Funny,” he murmurs, “I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Your face instantly burns, and you’re suddenly extremely grateful for the darkness, although knowing your luck, that probably isn’t really doing you any favors. You force a shaky laugh, pretending you didn’t just hear the tease in his voice, or at least pretending it didn’t affect you.

“You really didn’t have to come out here,” you say, eyes fixed stubbornly on the horizon past his shoulders. “I would’ve been fine, you know.”

The water rises around your collarbones, licking under your chin with every small movement. Hotch stands barely submerged past his chest. Even nature is unreasonably biased toward him.

You dig your toes deeper into the sand, resisting the tide and the impulse that keeps nudging you closer to him.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t drown.”

You open your mouth — to protest, maybe flirt (wishful thinking, obviously), or perhaps just awkwardly deflect — but before you can embarrass yourself further, a sudden wave crashes forward, knocking you straight into him.

Hotch barely budges, absorbing most of your momentum, but your hands land catastrophically. One lands safely on his chest, but the other falls disproportionately lower, fingers splayed over the enticing line of hair disappearing beneath his waistband.

Simultaneously, his own hand catches your hip, then slides, firm and unintentional, on your ass.

Both of you freeze.

“Sorry — I — um, the wave.” As if that clarifies anything at all.

Beneath your hand, his stomach tenses, his chest lifting with increasingly rapid breaths.

Still, Hotch doesn’t move, doesn't shift away. His palm stays exactly where it landed, warm, and surely, he has to know exactly what he’s doing. He has to.

“You’re freezing.”

“I —,” you start but whatever you meant to say disappears before it finishes forming.

He slowly, almost reluctantly lifts his hand from you. Your skin sparks at the loss, hypersensitive where he just was.

When you meet his eyes again, something new flickers there — something you’re certain wasn’t present before tonight.

Want.

It’s a look he’s taught you to recognize — eyes darkening, pupils dilating, respiration just a bit quicker. Except this isn’t an interrogation room, and the person in front of you is not a suspect, he’s Hotch.

And this want feels very, very personal.

But he only nods once, then glances toward the beach house.

“We should get out of the water.”

You don’t want to get out. Every part of you rebels at the idea of leaving this bubble. This fragile space that’s somehow made everything else feel distant, unreal.

But you can’t deny the truth in what he doesn't say. If this boundary were broken tonight, there’s no going back, no returning to the careful neutrality you’ve both perfected.

So, you nod slowly, forcing acceptance as your heart protests.

He moves first, and you fall into step beside him, close enough that your shadows merge.

join me at the beach for my 1 year/4k event!

day 1 extras

💌 click here to check in → confirm your room (and crush)

maria's spring break getaway masterlist

#mariasspringbreakgetaway #mariaversegetawaytrip #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader #aaron hotchner x sweetheart reader

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linkons-most-wanted · 1 month ago

Text

LIs Build IKEA furniture

I couldn’t get this out of my head, so enjoy 🤣

Zayne ❄️

Immediately takes charge of the process, doesn’t realize he’s doing so until you tease him about it

Treats the process like a surgery, you become the assistant. “Hex wrench. Number sixteen screw. Panel C in a vertical orientation.” When you tease him, he pretends to brush it off but then leans into the bit. “Phillips head screwdriver, stat.”

Never gets confused by the diagrams. Quietly notes errors and typos in the instructions. Seems to be able to use the tiniest details to know the correct orientation for each piece

Somehow had sandpaper on hand for when the pieces don’t fit perfectly

You hardly got a chance to look at the instructions but he still made you feel like an essential part of the process

Furniture is assembled perfectly in record time

Xavier 💫

Happy to help you out, starts reading the instructions while you sort the parts

Falls asleep reading the instructions

You take charge, waking him up on step 3 when you need him to hold something. He falls asleep holding it but somehow doesn’t drop it

When you ask for a part he just stares at the pile and picks up random things to offer you until he gets the right one or you point directly at it

Ask for the same part a second time, “Which was it again?”

You attach the last part and turn to high-five him—he’s sleeping again

Rafayel ��

“You want to spend time on this weird project instead of hanging out with me?” “This is us hanging out.” “What? But it’s boring. Can’t we, like, get someone else to put it together?”

You start building anyway

When you ask for something specific (“hold this”) he does so without hesitation but keeps complaining

“If I have to hold this board up any longer I’m going to get wrist cramps and then I won’t be able to paint for a week!”

“Ow ow, I think that gave me a splinter! Look at it! It might get infected! I need first aid, like, immediately.”

“This color is boooring, we should paint it later.”

This might be taking longer than if you just built it yourself

Sylus 🚗

“Did you steal this?” “No.” “Then why is it still in pieces?” “It’s how they sell it. It saves money.” “Why didn’t you say something? I’ll take you to a real furniture store.” “I want this exact one though.” “Can’t you pay them to assemble it?”

All you have to say is “I guess you’re not up for the challenge” and then he’s sitting on the floor next to you, also staring at the instructions

You both get confused on the same steps. Which side goes up again? Can you tell by the number of holes? Eventually you both shrug and hope for the best. Sylus brute forces a few pieces that probably don’t actually go together.

You realize you put a piece on backwards three steps ago and Sylus patiently helps you backtrack and fix it

“You’re being surprisingly cooperative.” “I am?” “Yeah, I thought you’d be way more annoyed.” “I never feel annoyed when I’m with you.”

“Where did that piece go?” (Mephisto stole it, it was shiny)

Caleb 🍎

“Hey Pipsqueak, remember when I built that bed for you? Even though you were in high school you still reeeeally wanted a pink one…” “Ugh, stop! It’s embarrassing!”

Takes the bag of pieces and the instruction book right away, uses his gravity Evol to hold up the parts. “Caleb, you took all the jobs! Let me help!” “You can help by getting us some snacks.”

“Caleb, I don’t think that goes there.” “Of course it does, are you really going to doubt the mechanical skills of a former fighter pilot?” Ten minutes later when it’s clear you were right the whole time: “Caleb, you dummy.”

“I switched the delivery notification number in your account over to my phone number since you’re going to need me to build whatever you buy, anyway.”

“You should come over to help me build my furniture too.” “But you didn’t let me help at all!” “Snack duty is very important, Pipsqueak.”

#love and deepspace #lads sylus #sylus #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel #lads caleb #zayne #Xavier #Caleb #rafayel #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #nonsense

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rafesapologist · 2 months ago

Text

fade into you — rafe cameron

summary: rafe is forced to remember everything he had with you. even if it still hurts.

warnings: mature themes, swearing, angst, smut, suggestive themes.

author's note: new year means new writing format and style!! this story switches from past to present narration before anyone asks just to clear things up (also, all i am going to say is that this was inspired by 'the virgin su*cides'). this one is a bit longer than my usual cause i am unusually inspired, therefore there will be a part 2.

"tell me about your first year at college."

in that moment rafe cameron's world tilted, not in the dramatic way of an earthquake, but in the quiet way of a rug slipping from underfoot. his first year of college felt like stepping into an echo; familiar in shape but hollow. the days of the first semester were lined with the hope of possibility, the scent of booze and marijuana, the clatter of unfamiliar voices weaving into something resembling home. but it was the nights that belonged to her.

"it was tame at first, at least in my definition of it," rafe shrugs, his gaze is glued straight to his hands on the table before him. the line between his brows deepen just then, like a page creased too many times, worn out by a lifetime of regrets and mistakes he could not change. "but it turned out to be the one time in my life i won't forget."

you first appeared like the first warm light of morning, golden and effortless, slipping into rafe's world without warning. he saw you on an ordinary walk to class, the same path he had taken many times before in the weeks following, but that day, the air felt different. charged.

you moved through the crowd in a constellation of laughter, surrounded by girls whose voices blended like a song he couldn't quite catch. it was clear to him you all were close, woven together in a way that suggested endless banter and inside jokes, a language only you guys understood. but to rafe, you were the star among them, the one who made everyone look, even when you didn't mean to.

your smile was the kind that turned heads, not for its perfection but for the way it felt like sunlight breaking through. it wasn't blinding, not overwhelming, but warm, inevitable. the kind of smile that stayed with you long after you'd turned away. rafe didn't know exactly why he looked at you, only that it felt impossible not to.

for a moment, no longer than a breath, your eyes flicked in his direction. a glance, nothing more; fleeting and weightless. and yes, it pressed into him, settled somewhere beneath his ribs, somewhat like a melody waiting to be remembered.

he didn't know then—how could he?

"tell me about your first interaction with her."

it's clear that your name carries weight still. rafe's expression softens, his lips almost curving into something like a smile. almost.

half of it is warmth, the quiet flicker of a memory untouched by time. the way you laughed and lit up the dullest afternoons. the way, for a fleeting moment, you were his.

the other half is the ghost of yours and his relationship, lingering just beneath his skin. the ache of something unfinished, of something lost before he even knew how to hold onto it. rafe swallows, shifts in his chair, and brushes a thumb over the edge of his glass as if he's trying to steady himself.

"i tried to get her to notice me for weeks," rafe chuckles with nostalgia laced in his solemn voice, "i'd go walking the same paths she did on her way to class, hoping she'd eventually notice me passing by, but she was in her own world. i guess that's what made me want her even more; the challenge of getting her and the longing for what it would be like to have her."

it started small. a glance, a step closer. rafe memorized the rythms of your routine: when you'd take that walk to class, which side of the campus you favored, the way you always tucked your books under your left arm. he'd pass by, slow his pace, linger just enough for his presence to register. but every time, you were somewhere else. not physically, because you were right there, mere inches away. but in your mind, you were leagues ahead, lost in thought, lost in the daydreams he wished he could step into.

it should've deterred him. anyone else would have taken the lack of acknowledgement as disinterest, would have let you fade back into the blur of unfamiliar faces that made up college hallways and crowded sidewalks. but not rafe. the more you drifted past him, untouched and unaware, the more he wanted to know; who are you?

what was it that filled your mind so completely? what pulled your gaze down to the worn pages of your books instead of the world around you? what songs played through those headphones you sometimes wore, what words swirled in your head when you stared off into the distance?

you weren't ignoring him. he knew what that looked like. no, you were simply somewhere else. and that only made him more desperate to pull you back, to tether you to his world, to him.

he started placing himself in your way. not just hoping you'd notice—forcing it. a well-timed step into your path, a brush of shoulders in a crowded walkway, a moment where he knew you'd finally have to look at him.

but you never would.

each time, your gaze remained trained ahead, your attention on something unseen, some unspoken thought too captivating for him to break through. and yet, with every failed attempt, rafe felt himself getting pulled further into you, like a tide drawn to the shore only to crash and retreat, again and again.

none of his friends noticed; how could they? to them it was nothing, but to rafe, it became everything.

"how did you finally get her to notice you?"

the question pulls rafe back, dragging him from the depths of his memory and deposits him here, in the mundane light of the present. he exhales slowly, but there's a flicker of something in his expression, something between amusement and regret.

his fingers tighten around his glass of water, thumb tracing over the condensation forming along its edge. he doesn't answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, eyes distant, like he's watching a scene play out in the space just beyond the table, just merely beyond reach.

there's that half-smile again; half warmth, half ghost.

"i had to make her," rafe finally says, voice quieter now, laced with something unspoken. "she wasn't going to notice me on her own. she was too.. caught up in her own world. i had to step into it, shake it up a little." he lets out a short breath, almost a laugh, but there's no real humor behind it.

"i don't think i realized it back then, but i was desperate. desperate for her to see me the way i saw her, to know if i was even worth being seen."

there's a pause. a shift. his fingers press into the wood of the table as if he's steadying himself.

"and when she finally did.." he trails off, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "well. i was totally encapsulated by her."

for months, rafe had still been orbiting you like a restless moon, caught up in your gravity and desperate for just one glance, one shift in your world that acknowledged his presence. but you, with your mind your mind still drifting elsewhere, never let him in.

so he devised a plan.

it was simple, really. step into your world, he thought. break through the invisible barrier that kept you from looking up and meeting reality, while he stood there waiting and aching for a moment that never came.

rafe learned about the psychology club in passing, a mention overhead in a conversation not meant for him. and that was it, that was his way in.

rafe didn't know much about psychology, other than the bare essentials; how prolonged isolation eats away at the mind, how the brain can be a cage as much as it can be an escape. maybe in some distant way, he understood the subject more than he thought. but still, he was no expert. if someone had asked him to explain cognitive dissonance or operant conditioning, he would have stared blankly, willing the words to come.

but for you? he was willing to learn. to fake it until he became it.

the day of one of the many club meetings, he showed up early, leaning against the doorway like he belonged there, like he wasn't some business major who had no idea what he was doing. the room hummed with quiet conversation, students flipping through notebooks and adjusting their seats. you sat near the middle, pen tapping absently against the cover of a worn-out textbook.

rafe forced himself to move, to step inside, to close the gaping distance. his pulse drummed beneath his skin, but outwardly, he played it cool, casual, and effortless. like this wasn't all for you.

he slid into the empty seat beside you, careful but also deliberate. just close enough to catch the faint scent of whatever perfume you wore, something light, something that made the air feel warmer somehow.

and then finally—you looked at him.

not a fleeting glance this time, not the accidental brush of eyes in a crowded hallway, but a real look, direct and questioning.

"you're in the psychology club? your voice. he swore it settled into his bones.

he grinned, slow and easy, despite the way his heart slammed against his ribs. this was the moment he had been waiting for all along.

"yeah," rafe lied smoothly." figured it was time to expand my horizons."

a hint of amusement passed through your eyes quickly, like you already saw through him, like you knew. but you didn't call him out, didn't turn away. instead, you tilted your head, considering him for the first time ever.

you study him, pen still tapping lightly against your textbook, the rhythmic sound filling the space between his lie and your hesitation. your eyes flicker over him, cautious but not unkind.

"you don't seem like the type." your voice is soft, deliberate, but there's no malice in it. just quiet observation.

rafe expected skepticism; welcomed it, even. what he didn't expect was how your voice would settle into his skin, threading through him like something already known and inevitable.

he smirks, leaning back just slightly, keeping the stance of someone unbothered, though his mind is a livewire beneath the surface.

"yeah?" he tilts his head, feigning curiosity. "and what's the type?"

you exhale, barely a laugh, before closing your textbook, fingers pressing lightly against the cover.

"someone who actually wants to be here," you say simply.

it's not an accusation, just a statement, but it lands somewhere deep in his chest. a hit, subtle yet painfully sharp. because you're right, he doesn't want to be there. not for psychology, not for the club. he wants to be there for you.

still, rafe is nothing if not quick on his feet. he leans in just slightly, just enough to close the space without making it obvious. his voice dips lower, words smooth as he shrugs.

"maybe i do want to be here. maybe you don't know me well enough to say otherwise."

your expression doesn't change. you hold his gaze, unwavering, like you're deciding something about him that even he doesn't know yet.

"i don't," you admit, your voice gentle but firm. "but i know people. and people don't usually show up to places they have no real interest in—unless they're looking for something." there it is. that careful certainty, the quiet wisdom that lingers beneath your softness. you say it without any suspicion and malice, but still, he feels caught.

rafe swallows the lump in his throat. he doesn't break eye contact.

"what if i am?" he says after a beat. "looking for something, i mean."

a pause.

something unreadable flickers in your expression. you exhale through your nose again, a slow breath, before picking your pen back up, flipping your book open again.

"then i hope you find it." and just like that, you return to whatever thought had been occupying your mind before he arrived, as if his presence, charm, and game was nowhere near enough to shake you.

for the first time in his life, rafe feels off-balance.

he watches you settle back into your book almost defeatedly, as if the conversation is already done, as if his presence is just another passing thing that's easy to dismiss.

but rafe isn't the kind of guy people dismiss, and he's sure as hell not going to let you be the first.

he breathes out while shaking his head slightly, a subtle smirk still playing at the edges of his lips. then, with the kind of boldness that always seemed to get him in trouble, he reaches out and gently turns the corner of your book toward himself, like he's trying to read over your shoulder. your fingers against the page.

slowly, you lift your eyes to him again, one brow arching, not in anger; something quieter. confusion, amusement, and maybe even intrigue.

"you know," rafe says, tilting his head, "most people would try to make a new guy feel welcome." his voice is low and teasing, but there's something real beneath it. something honest.

"you don't seem like someone who needs help fitting in." the words slip from your lips so effortlessly, so certain, and it throws him in a way he wasn't expecting. because you are right—he's never had any trouble fitting in. not at parties, or in crowds, or any room he's ever walked in for that matter. but with you, for the first time he feels like he has something to prove.

he holds your gaze, his smirk softening into something else. "maybe i don't," he admits, leaning in just a fraction, "but i do need you to talk to me. because i can't figure out if you're playing hard to get, or if i'm just that easy to ignore."

you blink at him, caught off guard by his directness. for a moment, he wonders if he pushed too far and too fast. until he suddenly hears a laugh.

it's soft and breathless. the kind of laugh that slips out before you can stop it, and have mercy on him, if that sound doesn't go straight to his chest.

"you're a lot," you say, shaking your head as you glance back at your book as if you're trying to compose yourself. rafe grins in return; triumphant.

"but you noticed me," rafe points out, "so i must be doing something right."

you exhale, still amused but guarded, as if you're still trying to figure him out, to see if there's something about him. and finally, you give in. just a little.

"fine," you say, closing your book again and resting your elbow on the desk. "if you're really going to be here, tell me something—what actually interests you about psychology?" it's a test. a challenge. you know he doesn't belong here, and you're daring him to prove otherwise.

rafe leans back in his chair as he pretends to think, though he already has the answer.

"you," he says simply.

there it is again; a flicker of something in your expression. but this time, you don't let him win so easily.

"that's not an answer," you reply smoothly.

he laughs, shaking his head.

"alright, alright," he concedes before his voice dips into something quieter, more genuine, "i guess.. people interest me. why they think the way they do. why they make the choices they make." you tilt your head slightly, watching him. and this time, he knows you're taking him seriously.

"that's a decent answer," you admit, "even if it's probably bullshit." rafe grins once more, but this time it's softer and real.

"guess you'll have to stick around to find out." and for the first time, you don't dismiss him. you just sit there, watching him, thinking just maybe, you might.

"that day," rafe murmurs, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the condensation of his glass, almost as though he's talking to himself. "that was the start of it all."

there's a pause. a shift in his expression similar to the look of someone who is being haunted.

"i asked her out shortly after," rafe admits, his voice carrying the weight of something unfinished. she hesitated, of course she did. she was cautious and i was.." his smirk is brief, self-deprecating, "i was me." a chuckle, small but real.

"but i wasn't going to let her brush me off so easily. i made sure to take her somewhere she'd feel comfortable. somewhere safe. somewhere she wouldn't regret saying yes to."

"how did you ask her?"

for a second rafe says nothing, just remembers. then, he answers truthfully.

it was an afternoon weighed down by the promise of rain, clouds stretched thin but looming, casting a dim glow over campus. the air smelled of damp earth and cooling pavement, the kind of scent that felt like change.

you were walking ahead of him towards the psych club meeting, your bag slung over your should, fingers absently twisting the strap as if lost in thought. rafe had spent days, weeks, playing scenarios in his head, running through all the ways he could say it. he wasn't the type to hesitate or plan, but with you? it had to be right.

so, was he fell into step beside you, he didn't waste time.

"go out with me."

your step faltered just slightly, barely noticeable, but he caught it. your head turned to him with your brows raised, expression unreadable as usual. half of it showing you were caught off guard, half something he couldn't quite name.

"go out with you?" the way you said it, slow and careful, like you were rolling the words in your mouth to see how they tasted.

rafe huffed a quiet luagh, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked. "yeah. i know you heard me."

you studied him for a beat, your face still unreadable. "and what makes you think i'd say yes?"

rafe tilted his head slightly, considering, before giving you that look—the one that had disarmed more people than he could count. "because i'd make sure you wouldn't regret it."

silence.

then finally, you sighed, turning back towards the sidewalk ahead. "where?" and just like that, the grip around his ribs loosened, the breath he didn't realize he was holding finally slipping free. he grinned, triumphant but not cocky, like he'd just opened the first page of a story he'd been dying to read.

"you'll see."

that weekend, when rafe arrived at your dorm, it wasn't just you waiting for him. your friends are gathered behind you in the doorway, watching him intently; unspoken scrutiny. the kind of silent, collective judgement usually reserved for overprotective parents.

they weren't just watching, they were assessing.

rafe took it in stride, offering them a lopsided smile as if this was nothing new, as if he wasn't completely aware that they were mentally quizzing him, calculating if he was worth even a second of your time.

you, meanwhile, exhaled slowly, rubbing your temple as if you were already exhausted. "guys—"

one of them, a girl with sharp eyes and crossed arms, cut you off. "so, what exactly are your intentions?"

rafe blinked, momentarily thrown, before letting out a small laugh. "you're really doing this?"

another friend, short but no less intense, nodded firmly. "we are."

rafe turned his gaze back to you, his eyes glinting with amusement. "they rehearsed this, didn't they?" you pinched the bridge of your nose in response.

"unfortunately."

the first girl wasn't deterred. "answer the question."

rafe shifted his weight, pretending to consider. "right now? my intentions are to take her out, making sure she enjoys herself, and bring her back in one piece." a beat, then a smirk. "long-term? guess we'll see."

you sighed, already reaching for your bag. "okay, thats enough—" but your friends weren't done.

"we'll be watching," one of them warned, narrowing her eyes.

rafe just grinned in return. "i wouldn't expect anything less." and with that, you finally stepped forward, brushing past your interrogators and out the door.

the campus was humming with the distant sounds of laughter and footsteps, the night stretched cool and quiet around you. but there, in the sliver of space between buildings and streetlights, it was just the two of you.

rafe walked a half a step ahead, his hands shoved into his pockets, his stride was easy and unhurried, like this wasn't the first date but a moment that had already happened a hundred times before. you, on the other hand, kept your arms crossed loosely over your chest, shoulders drawn in just slightly, as if holding yourself together.

it wasn't for the fact that you didn't want to be there. if that were the case, you wouldn't have come at all. it was just that rafe cameron had a way of pulling things out of you—things that you weren't sure you wanted to give.

"still not gonna tell me where we're going?" you asked, more to fill the space than out of real frustration.

rafe glanced at you, his lips curving in a knowing smile. "what, you don't like surprises?"

you exhaled through your nose, "not when i don't know what i'm walking into."

his chuckle was low, amused. "fair enough." he nudged his shoulder against yours, only lightly, just enough for you to feel him. "but trust me, you'll like this one."

you did your best to ignore the way his presence had weight, the way his warmth reached out even in the crisp air. instead, you focused on the path ahead, the streetlamp glow catching in puddles from the earlier rain.

"you're quiet," rafe said after a moment, and though his tone was casual, there was something beneath it—a curiosity.

you shrugged. "i don't talk just to talk."

rafe hummed as if considering, before tilting his head. "so, when you do talk, it means something?"

you gave him a look. "that's usually how words work."

he grinned. "see? there she is."

you frowned slightly. "what?"

"that confidence. knew it had. to be in there somewhere." you scoffed at him, but there was a flicker of something, not amusement or irritation, something in between.

"you really like to push, don't you?"

rafe didn't hesitate. "only when i know there's something worth pushing for."

his words hung between the two of you, unspoken meanings curling around. them, but he didn't let the weight settle. instead, he nodded toward a small building up ahead, tucked between two larger halls, its window glowing dimly.

"we're here."

you glanced at the entrance, your brows knitting. "the library?"

rafe grinned. "not just the library." with that, he reached for the door, pulling it open for you.

the library at night felt different.

gone was the daytime rush of students flipping through textbooks, the scattered hum of whispered study session, the relentless scratch of pencils against paper. now, it was still—quiet, but not empty. the overhead lights had been dimmed, casting a glow over the bookshelves. a faint melody played from a record player at the front desk, something old and slow, the kind of song that belonged to a different time.

you stepped inside hesitantly, glancing at rafe. "you brought me to library?"

he smirked, stepping past you, his hands still in his pockets. "not just any library," he said, repeating his words from earlier, "come on."

you followed him, weaving through the shelves, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and something faintly sweet; maybe vanilla or cinnamon. it wasn't until you rounded the last corner that you saw it.

a small table, nestled between two massive bookshelves, tucked away from the rest of the world. two chairs. a single candle flickering in the center.

you blinked. "you planned this?"

rafe leaned against the shelf, watching you carefully. "figured you wouldn't wanna go somewhere loud," he admitted, "and i remembered you always got here early for psych club, so... thought you might like it."

for a moment, you didn't say anything. you weren't used to people noticing things like that.

rafe filled the silence, rubbing the back of his neck. "it's stupid, i know. i just—"

"it's not stupid."

his eyes flickered to yours, and for the first time tonight, the usual cocky glint was gone and replaced by something softer and warmer.

a beat of hesitation, then you exhaled, stepping forward. you ran your fingers along the worn edge of the table, tilting your head at him. "are you gonna sit, or just stand there watching me all night?"

his grin returned, slow and easy. "didn't know if i had to convince you first."

you rolled your eyes but took a seat, and after a second, he did too.

"alright, cameron," you murmured, resting your chin in your palm, "let's see what you've got."

rafe chuckled, reaching for the bottle of wine he'd somehow managed to smuggle in. he poured you a glass, then one for himself, lifting it slightly in your direction.

"to you finally noticing me," he said, teasing but sincere.

you studied him for a moment, and then, despite yourself, you lifted your own glass.

"to that." you took a sip, the warmth spreading through you, but the truth was, you had noticed him long before this. you just weren't sure if you were ready to let him know that yet.

rafe breathes out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. "that was the start of it," he says, voice distant, as if he's not really here anymore.

his fingers drum against the table, the flicker of something in his eyes: nostalgia, longing, something heavier he won't say aloud.

"and after that?"

rafe's lips quirk, but not quite a smile. he swirls the last of his drink in his glass before answering.

"after that," he murmurs, "i couldn't stay away."

it happened gradually, in ways so small they could've been dismissed as nothing at all.

the first time you lingered at rafe's place past midnight, curled up on the couch, your psychology textbook open but forgotten in your lap. the lamplight was dim, the tv humming softly in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention to it.

"stay," rafe had murmured, half-asleep himself.

and you did.

and then it happened again, and again, until the nights at his apartment outnumbered the ones in your dorm. it wasn't something you talked about. there was no dramatic moment, no confession, just the slow shift of gravity pulling you into his orbit.

you still walked with your friends to class, at first. but one morning, as you were stepping out of your dorm, rafe was already waiting outside, leaning against the railing with that easy smirk.

"thought i'd save you the trouble of pretending you didn't see me on your way out," he said.

you rolled your eyes, but you didn't turn him away. that was the first time you let him walk with you.

and then it wasn't just once. it became a habit.

it felt safer, more comfortable, like something meant to be. and rafe—he liked the way you gravitated toward him. the way you trusted him with those little parts of your day.

people noticed. of course they did.

it started with whispers—small, harmless things. is she really with him? then, it turned into something sharper.

"didn't peg you for a charity case, cameron." rafe heard the comments more than you did, and the ones you did hear, you brushed off. you had this way of ignoring the ugliness in people, of refusing to let the world harden you.

but rafe wasn't like you in the slightest.

he knew the cruelty of the people you surrounded yourself with. he know how easily they could taint the softness in you, and he—he wanted to protect you from that.

"just ignore them," you told him once, when he tensed at a passing comment. you were so sure, so unwavering, and it made something in rafe ache.

"you're too nice," he muttered, shaking his head.

you just smiled, nudging his shoulder with yours. "maybe someone should teach you how to be nice, too."

and maybe someone was.

because rafe found himself doing things he'd never done before. walking you to class even when it meant going the long way. keeping an extra sweatshirt at his place because he knew you'd get cold. keeping his hands to himself, even on nights when you curled up next to him, falling asleep to the sound of his breathing.

it was slow and deliberate. because for once, rafe didn't want to rush. he just wanted you.

"she was different," rafe says simply.

"how so?"

rafe huffs a quiet laugh, but there's something almost bitter in it. he leans back, tilting his head slightly, as if looking for the right words.

"she wasnt—" he stops himself, exhales, then tries again. "she wasn't like the rest of them." there's a pause; a flicker of something in his eyes.

"i didn't want to mess it up," he finally says. and for awhile, he didn't.

rafe was careful with you, that was the difference.

for all his recklessness, his sharp edges, the impulsivity that had driven most of his life—he was careful with you.

he never reached for you too fast, never asked for more than what you were willing to give. even when you spent your nights curled up on his couch, tucked into the blankets he'd wordlessly draped over you, he kept his distance. not because he didn't want to be closer, but because he knew if he moved too quickly, you'd slip through his fingers like sand.

so he settled for the little things. a hand on you thigh, just barely there. an arm thrown over your shoulder when you let him. a touch that never lingered longer than you allowed. and that was enough.

until it wasn't.

one night, when something in you shifted, it was late—later than usual. you were in your usual spot on rafe's couch, legs tucked beneath you. the only light came from the flickering tv screen, playing something neither of you were watching. you turned to him then, something unreadable in your expression, and said, almost too softly—"i don't want to sleep out here tonight."

rafe's stomach dropped.

not because he expected anything more than what you were offering, but because this meant something.

you saw his hesitation in him before he could even speak, the way his jaw tensed, how he wet his lips like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"you sure?" his voice was quieter than he intended. you nodded, and that was it.

you let him lead you down the dim hallway, past the half-opened bathroom door, past the quiet hum of the city outside his window. you stopped just rafe the threshold of his room, fingers grazing the doorframe.

rafe watched you, waiting for any sign of doubt, any sign that you wanted to change your mind. but then, you stepped inside.

it was the smallest act of trust, but to him, it meant everything.

that night, he didn't even touch you.

you fell asleep on one side of the bed, and he laid on the other. the space between you was measured in careful breaths, in the rise and fall of your chests. and for once, rafe didn't mind the distance; you were here. and that was enough.

"so she trusted you?"

rafe breathes out sharply, eyes darkening with something you can't quite recognize. "yeah," he says, voice rougher now. "she did."

there's a pause.

"and did you deserve it?"

rafe doesn't answer. because truth is—he's not sure.

he wasn't used to softness. not like this. not the kind that crept in slow, like light spilling through the cracks of a door, like warmth settling into his bones before he even realized he was cold. but with you, it wasn't just softness. it was something bigger, more consuming; real.

and it wasn't just him who noticed.

people talked. they always did. the whispers followed you both like shadows, lingering in lecture halls, slipping between phone screens, taking shape in jealous glances from girls who had wanted him for themselves. but rafe had never been theirs, and now, he was yours.

he saw the way they looked at you, the way their envy dripped. from their lips in the form of cruel comments, passive-aggressive stares. it didn't matter that most of them would have never given him the time of day before you. now that he was devoted—they wanted what they couldn't have.

the things they said about you online were even worse:

"she's not even that pretty." "she must be easy." "he'll get bored of her soon."

rafe wanted to rip their words from their throats. he wanted to set the world on fire for you, but you never even flinched.

you walked through campus with your head high, your expression unwavering, never once giving them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

and most surely, he marveled at you for it.

he knew that if the roles were reserved, he would've lost it by now: throw a punch, say something reckless, done something he'd regret. but you? you just let them talk. you let them think their words held weight when, in reality, they barely scratched the surface.

still, rafe wished you'd fight back. he knew you could. he knew that deep down, you were a force to be reckoned with, the kind of person who could level cities if you wanted to.

but you didn't. you just smiled. kept walking. and maybe that's what made him love you even more.

"she was stronger than me," rafe admits. his fingers tighten around the edge of the table, knuckles going white. his expression is unreadable, but there's something in his eyes—raw.

"i don't think i ever told her that," he continues, voice quieter now, "but she was."

he exhales sharply, shaking his head like he's trying to push away the weight of the past. his jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks haunted.

"she could take a hit. let it roll off of her. i don't know how she did it."

"you wanted her to fight back."

rafe's lips twitch, not quite a smirk nor a frown, just something stuck in between.

"yeah," he says after a pause, "i did."

there's a beat of silence.

"and did she?"

rafe swallows. his gaze flickers downward, and this time, he doesn't answer.

the first time you called his apartment "home," rafe almost didn't catch it. it was an accident, really. slipped past your lips without thought.

you'd been sitting on his kitchen counter, stealing bites of his food like you always had with your legs dangling lazily. and when you stretched your arms over your head and sighed, you murmured, "we should get more of this for home."

rafe had blinked.

the word settled between you both, warm and unspoken, but it was there. home. and he didn't bother to correct you.

after that, it became second nature. you were there more than you weren't. you left things behind regularly: books, sweaters, your favorite chapstick. and before either of you could even process it, your things just lived there.

and then, one night, when rafe went back to his apartment after a long day, exhausted and half out of it—you were already there. waiting for you like you belonged there. it was home for you, too.

that was the moment, he realizes now later on, that he stopped seeing you as a part of his life and started seeing you as his life.

"did she ever tell you she loved you?" the question is gentle, but it still makes rafe flinch. his jaw tightens, fingers drumming against the table. his eyes are still unreadable.

"no," he admits, a quiet chuckle escaping him. "not with words."

there's another pause.

"but she didn't have to."

you never said it out loud; not once. not in the stolen moments between classes, not in the quiet hum of the early morning when you stretched against his sheets, your breath warm against his skin. not even in the moments when you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world worth looking at.

but you didn't have to.

rafe had spent his entire life, at that point, surrounded by love that was loud: consuming, possessive, and reckless. girls who clung to him like he was air, like he was something to be claimed. they spoke their attractions in rushed declarations, in lipstick-stained voicemails, in drunken whispers against his neck, but it had never meant anything to him. not like this.

you loved him in ways that were quiet, subtle. you let him carry your books when you were too stubborn to admit they were heavy. you started keeping extra advil in your bag, because you noticed how often his head hurt when he was stressed. you traced patterns against the back of his hand when you thought he wasn't paying attention. you stopped letting your friends walk you to class—you let him do it instead.

and maybe the biggest shift of all; you started staying. at first, it was just the evenings, your presence filling the corners of his apartment in the softest ways. your softs on the floor, your books on the coffee table, the faint scent of your perfume lingering on his couch. but then one night, you didn't leave. you stayed. and rafe never asked why, cause deep down, he already knew.

"so she never said it? at all?"

rafe shakes his head again. "no," he mutters with a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips, "not with words."

he breathes as he drags a hand through is hair, fingers raking through the strands like he's trying to pull himself back into reality.

"but i felt it," he admits, voice quieter now, "God, i felt it."

"and you?"

rafe's gaze flickers upwards. "what about me?"

"did you ever say it first?"

silence.

then, rafe chuckles—a hollow sound that is laced with something that almost sounds like regret.

"no," he admits, "not at first."

another pause.

"but i should have."

truthfully, rafe had never been gentle with a girl before. not because he did not want to be, but because he had never needed to be. girls threw themselves at him, took what they could get; made it easy. but you? you demanded softness. not with words, not with ultimatums, but simply by being who you were. you didn't want reckless hands or desperate touches. you wanted patience and care. and rafe was willing to learn.

at first it was just the little things: a hand on your thigh, low enough that you didn't feel the need to move away. an arm over your shoulder, never too tight. a brush of his knuckles against yours, just enough to ask, never to take. and you let him.

"so, was that the farthest you went with her?" the question lingers in the air, delicate but razor-sharp nevertheless, slicing through the space.

rafe doesn't answer right away.

instead he swallows hard, his. throat working around a lump that refuses to go down. his fingers twitch against the table, drumming once against against the smooth surface before he exhales—a breath that sounds more like a quiet, defeated laugh. a humorless chuckle. because; only if you knew.

if only you knew what it felt like, to touch you, to have you, to finally be granted access to the arts of you that nobody else had seen because of your persistent modesty.

he doesn't say anything yet, but in his mind, he's already there.

it had been slow.

like the turning of pages, like the unraveling of silk. rafe had never been patient a day in his life, but with you, he was willing to wait. had to wait. because for all the ways you had let him in—your time, your words, your presence in his apartment more often than your own—this was different.

you had always carried yourself with a kind of delicate modesty, a quiet armor that kept the world at bay, and rafe never dared to push. not until you let him.

and one night, you did.

you had been curled against him, your breath steady against his collarbone, your body warm against his sheets. the room was dark except for the soft glow of his beside lamp, shadows painting the walls in lazy strokes. and then, you moved. just a little. just enough.

enough for your fingers to ghost over his skin, enough for the shift of your body to press just a little closer. enough for him to know. that this—this moment, this night, this touch—was permission.

and when rafe finally touched you, really touched you, it felt like stepping into something sacred. like opening a tomb that had never been disturbed, like discovering something untouched and unspoiled; only meant for him. an honor.

that's exactly what it was. that's what you were.

and the moment his hands found you, skin to skin, warmth to warmth—he was gone.

drunk, intoxicated, not on alcohol not on the substance he used to numb the rest of the world, but on you.

because you were the strongest, most potent form of liquor he had ever tasted, and rafe knew—he could never get enough.

rafe felt it like a pulse beneath his skin, a silent beckoning, and still, he had waited. but the moment you had turned to him, when your eyes found his in the quiet hush of the night, he knew. he reached for you then, slow and measured, like a man afraid of disturbing something sacred. his fingers traced along the bare skin of your arm, his touch barely more than a whisper, as if testing the fragility of glass.

and you—you let him.

you did not flinch, didn't pull away, didn't shrink beneath the weight of his hands. instead, you leaned into it, into him, into the warmth of his pal against the curve of your waist. it was a slow unraveling.

it was like silk slipping through fingers, like the quiet collapse of a tide meeting the shore. his hands mapped the shape of you with careful, aching reverence: the dip of your spine, the delicate slope of your shoulder, the space just beneath your ribs where your breath hitched beneath his touch. and most certainly, he could feel it; the way your body trembled, not in fear, not in reluctance, but in something else entirely.

something deeper and unspoken.

rafe exhaled, his breath warm as it fanned across your temple, his lips barely grazing your skin as his finger trailed lower—only to pause. waiting. asking. and when your fingers curled around his wrist, when your grip tightened just slightly, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away—that was all he needed.

he moved like a tide drawn by the pull of the moon, slow and inevitable, touching you in places that had never been touched. not just your body, but your trust, your guarded heart, the parts of you no one dared to claim. rafe knew it then—it wasn't just touch. this was permission.

the moment stretched, fragile as spun glass, suspended between what had been and what was about to unfold. rafe was drowning in it.

the scent of you, clean and warm, wrapped around him like a fever and your breath—soft, uneven, trembling against his skin—was the only thing anchoring him to reality. yet, even reality felt distant.

it felt like a dream, like something surreal and untouched by the weight of the world. he had wanted you for so long; he longed, ached and burned for you. but not like this. not in the way others had. this wasn't about conquest, it was about immersion. about losing himself in you, in the sound of his name slipping from your lips like prayer, in the way your breath hitched when his fingers finally moved where you needed them most.

"rafe—"

it wasn't just a whisper, it was his undoing. your body reacted before your mind could process it, arching into his touch, into the deliberate drag of his fingers, slow and worshipful. his name wasn't just a plea, it was a confession, an invitation, a surrender.

and rafe had answered it.

he traced reverence across your skin with his mouth, with his hands, with the way he listened. every sigh, every broken sound you gave him, he committed to memory like scripture. the way your fingers tangled into his hair; tentative, then certain, then desperate.

the little gasps that spilled from your lips, the quietest whimpers you tried to swallow down—he chased them.

"let me hear you," he murmured against your jaw, voice thick with something unrecognizable even to himself. not lust or desire, but something that was raw.

your hands fisted in the sheets, in him, in anything that would keep you grounded as he unraveled you, as he worshiped you. he wanted to stay there forever.

lost in your warmth. in your sweet, breathy moans that filled the quiet of his bedroom. in the way your body responded to him so effortlessly, like you were made for this, for him. you trembled beneath his touch, the tension coiling inside you unbearable, and he felt it—felt everything.

he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing in every sound, every whisper of his name like it was oxygen.

he pressed his mouth against your collarbone, his lips brushing against your pulse, fast and unsteady, mirroring his own. he wanted to stay there, breathing you in, tasting the heat of your skin, memorizing the way your heartbeat quickened under his touch.

the way your fingers tangled in his hair tentatively at first, like you weren't sure if you were allowed to hold onto him. but then, his fingers curled every so slightly, and you gasped, your grip tightening, your body instinctively answering his silent plea to let him in. you were soft—so soft.

soft in the way your breath broke against his cheek, soft in the way your thighs trembled under his touch, soft in the way your voice whispered his name like a secret meant only for him.

"are you okay?" his voice was low, quiet, rough with restraint. it mattered to him.

you nodded, but it wasn't enough.

"tell me."

your lips parted, but words seemed impossible. so instead, you reached for him, your touched featherlight, uncertain, but when your fingers brushed against his jaw, something inside of him shattered.

rafe had been touched before, but never like this. like he was something to be held, cherished, to be discovered slowly. never like he was something delicate. his breath stuttered, and for a moment, he just looked at you. he was drunk on you, drowning in you, lost in the way you were finally letting him in.

"i need you," you whispered, and God, you didn't even realize what those words did to him. because he needed you, too. more than you would ever know. more than the air in his lung, than the pulse thrumming beneath his skin, more than anything he had ever reached for in his entire life.

he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, his hands stilling against you for the briefest moment like he was memorizing this, like he needed to etch it into his bones before it could slip away.

"say it again," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

your lips parted, your breath shaky, the space between you humming with danger and intoxication.

"rafe—"

you didn't even get the chance to say it before he was kissing you again, swallowing your breath, your words, your everything. he kissed you like he was answering something unspoken between you, like he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. his fingers traced slow, deliberate lines against your skin, exploring every delicate curve, inch of warmth, like he was mapping you out with his hands, learning you by touch alone. and you surely let him.

your breath hitched when his fingers splayed over your ribs, his thumb barely grazing the soft skin beneath your bra, his touch was so light, so careful it was nearly unbearable. he was testing you. waiting. holding himself back in a way that felt excruciating, agonizing, perfect.

"tell me if you want me to stop." his voice was a whisper, but it wrapped around you, threaded through you, settled deep inside your chest. you didn't want him to stop, you never wanted him to stop. instead, you reached for him, your fingers curling around his wrist as you guided him, giving him the permission without a single word. that was all it took.

"God, you're beautiful." his voice was breathless, raw, like the words had been torn straight from his chest. you whimpered softly at the praise, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, and nearly lost himself right then and there. you had no idea what you were doing to him.

the way you arched into him, the way your lips parted against his neck, the way your breaths grew heavier with each passing second. it was unraveling him, piece by piece, turning him into something wrecked and desperate and wholly, completely yours. he wanted to make this last.

the sound of you, soft gasps and barely there whimpers, the quiet way you murmured his name was intoxicating, threading through his veins like the most potent of poisons. he was lost in you. he was drowning in you, and he didn't want to come up for air.

the moment unraveled like silk slipping through calloused fingers, a sacred thread being pulled loose. rafe had never been so lost in anything before in his life—not in the high of a late night thrill, not in the haze of cigarette smoke curling around his lips. but you—you were something else entirely. you were ruin wrapped in euphoria, a dream so tangible it felt like he could reach out and grasp it, only for it to melt between his fingers.

every breath you took was a siren's call, pulling him deeper into the undertow of you. his hands traced the map of your body with that same reverence, memorizing every single curve and valley as if you were something holy, something he wasn't sure he was meant to touch but couldn't resist worshipping.

and your eyes, half-lidded, dark with something he'd never seen before, were the final undoing. they held him captive, ensnaring him in a way that made escape seem foolish and unwanted. he swore you looked unreal, something divine carved from the softest parts of the universe, ethereal and just out of reach even as you lay beneath him.

rafe had never know a moment like this, where time ceased to exist and reality bent at the edges and blurred into something intoxicating. the quiet between heartbeats, as his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, he realized he'd never truly touched anything before you.

"so if you guys had such a good thing going, where did it go wrong?"

rafe blinks but it's as if he's looking through the present, past it, past everything. his fingers drum against the table, restless. his jaw tightens. he looks detached, but the truth is, he's drowning.

"the way we ended was my fault," he says, his voice rough and weighted. "and every ending that happened in her life after that might just be mine, too." his breath comes slow and deliberate, like he's trying to steady himself, but it doesn't work. he drags his teeth over his bottom lip, his gaze sinking into the floor.

"i left her by herself one night."

it was a bar, dimly lit and thick with the scent of cheap liquor and cigarette smoke. the music pulsed like a heartbeat, and the night was already slipping into something hazy. rafe remembers the amber glow that softened the harsh edges of the world, the way the laughter of his friends melted into the buzz of the room. he remembers standing you, shoulder to shoulder, his hand resting on the small of your back like it belonged there.

you looked up at him then, your lips parted slightly, as if on the verge of saying something. but the moment passed before he could catch it. and then—he let himself get distracted. it wasn't intentional. just a drink, just a conversation, just a turn of his head. a moment. a single, fleeting moment.

but when he looked back, you were gone.

the empty space where you stood before sent a spike of something sharp through rafe's ribs. he scanned the room, his pulse kicking up, but you weren't there.

"they told me she called my name." his voice is quieter now, as if he's speaking more to himself than anyone else. "i remember that much. i remember turning back for a second, seeing her standing there in that dim bar light."

his throat bobs. "she had that look on her face—like she was about to say something, but i never got to hear what."

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you

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mettatonblog · 3 months ago

Text

◌. ˚✧˖° ͎ Salesman x Fem!Reader ͎°˖✧˚.◌ ̥

Summary: You have recently moved to Seoul where your current boyfriend (Seong Gi-Hun) lives. Lately he has been very focused on his work of uncovering a criminal network that he and many other people were victims of. Although he lives in a turbulent motel, he has a rather cozy room. To put a spicy twist on the relationship, you decide to surprise Gi-Hun with something you bought at a sex shop. You wait anxiously for him to arrive, but to your surprise, a different man appears to enjoy you.

Warnings: Cheating, the reader is tricked to sleep with the Salesman, blindfold, dog collar kink, handcuffs, choking, squirt, bj, slut shaming (just a bit), gun kink, v penetration, unprotected sex, fluff (highly questionable), creampie, +18.

Word count: 2k (5 minutes).

...

Sex with Gi-Hun could not be described as bad. After all, he is a man who goes out of his way to make you feel pleasure. Still, sex with him is a bit vanilla, so you decided to give it a little twist. Your intention was to explore with him and gradually work your way up to perhaps more extreme forms of BDSM.

“Maybe this is a bit too much for him?” You thought as you put on a black string thong. On the bed behind you, you had some metal handcuffs, in case he felt like trying them out. Most importantly and what you thought would get the most play: a blindfold. Maybe not feeling judged by your gaze would make it easier for him to fuck you. While you were putting on the leather collar, you smiled to yourself in the mirror and gave yourself a light slap. You were feeling hotter than ever.

"He's going to love it". You thought confidently, putting on knee-high stockings. There was still time before he got off work, but you decided to wait patiently for him on the bed, like the obedient bitch you were with the blindfold on. You sat on the bed with your legs spread widely with the collar leash dangling between them. You couldn't contain your laughter thinking of all that could happen. In no time, you heard a noise at the door. Your patience was rewarded. The noise at the door made you raise an eyebrow, as Gi-Hun was taking longer than usual to open it.

"Is he drunk?" You thought to yourself and brushed it off. There were other priorities at that moment. In no time, you heard Gi-Hun's footsteps approaching towards you. With each step you leaned your body forward, as if to give him a kiss. However, there was no kiss. You only felt the pull of your leash and also you heard an evil chuckle. Although you found the laugh a bit unusual for your boyfriend, who knows, maybe he was into it? You certainly liked it.

"I was worried you were not going to like it". You smiled trying to reach his body. Gi-Hun was very well dressed which was atypical for him. You grabbed his tie to pull him closer to you. Your lips were not so far away from his and you could feel his breath.

"Did you get dressed up for me?" You asked him without receiving an answer. You brought your hands close to his cheeks and you could feel that he was smiling from side to side. If you saw him behind the mask he would probably scare you.

"Is that cologne?" You inhaled its woody notes. It was a very fresh smell, very pleasant. The man just laughed. Next, you heard the sound of a metallic 'click' and felt a cold sensation on your wrists. The man pushed you and pinned your arms above your head. This sent a rush of adrenaline through you like a jolt, followed by the sensation of something hard under your boobs.

"You are already like this for me?" You asked with content knowing that his cock was already hard. You again received the same mischievous chuckle but this time accompanied by a caress on your cheekbone. "I didn't know you would be this good-" His fingers slipped from your cheekbone to your lips.

"Shhhh..." He ordered silence and then proceeded to place his hands on each side of your head. You also heard him lift his knee and slot it in between your legs. The next thing you felt was his breathing somewhat quickened near your neck. Suddenly, his hand choked your neck to which your thighs tightened around his leg. Just enough to show his strength but not enough to kill you. He laughed again knowing you liked the feeling. You wanted to express how much you liked this, but he recently told you not to speak, which also turned you on. Maybe you couldn't do it through words, but you could do it nonverbally. The man was surprised to see you rubbing your parts up and down against his clothed knee. You could tell he liked that. His clothed erection was pulsating and you could feel it in your exposed chest. To your surprise, the gentleman responded moving his knee away from you, but the lack of touch was replaced with his fingers exploring your inner thigh. He wasted no time and pulled your thong aside. Two fingers ran up and down your slot, exploring with hunger. He caressed it first before placing his fingers inside you. He wanted to feel your wetness for him first.

"Fuff..." You heard him take a deep breath as he took off his jacket and then loosened his tie. In no time, his fingers were inside you again. Moving in and out mercilessly. Even if he wanted you to be silent, you could not contain your moans. You tried to do so by moving your handcuffed hands to your mouth but he didn't let you. He pinned you in place instead. After all, he enjoyed the sounds of your wet pussy and your moans.

His pace got even faster, with his fingers curled hitting your g-spot constantly. You held on to the railing of the bed's header as your vaginal walls were quivering. The pleasure was getting overwhelming.

"Fuck-" You managed to say between deep breaths. With the blindfold on, all other sensations were amplified. His touch, the wet sounds, the scent of his cologne. It was too much for you to handle. In no time you were squirting for him. You didn't see it but you were sure that it had stained his shirt. He did not care at all.

You didn't know what had possessed Gi-Hun that day. He didn't even let you catch your breath. He curled the leash around his knuckles and stood up, moving you onto the floor. You were on your knees, or at least trying to, as your legs were still trembling. This man wasted no time. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his throbbing erection from his boxers. He grabbed a few strands of your hair, pressing his tip into your lips while pulling your hair back into a ponytail. You parted your lips softly and with a fast thrust, his dick was deep inside you. His thrusts were ruthless, not waiting for you to adapt to his pace. He almost choked you with his huge dick. Despite of everything, you had to admit that this was one of the best nights you had with Gi-Hun. He soon became even more aroused, his breaths were heavier and his thrusts sharper. You could taste the saltiness of his precum lubricating your mouth. Suddenly, he let a groan escape from his lips. He bit his finger with force, so that you would not recognize his voice. His teeth pressed so hard against his skin they made him bleed. He pulled you away for a moment to catch a breath and also to change positions. He could not contain himself anymore.

"I wasn't aware of this side of you, Gi-Hun". You complimented him as you slowly stood up and moved your handcuffed hands to your blindfold. You thought he might need a break. Before you had time to remove it, he pushed you again against the bed. He climbed on top of you and pinned you again but this time, he removed one of your handcuffs. Then he moved it around the bed rail and handcuffed you again, restricting your movement even further. You could feel the tip of his wet throbbing erection close to your entrance. You opened your legs for him and waited for him to fuck you mercilessly, as he did before.

"Impatient, aren't we?" The stranger's raspy voice gave you goose bumps. Who was this? To his surprise, you did not close your legs. You were into it actually.

"Who are you?" He lifted your blindfold and the man revealed himself. He was a very handsome guy. Younger than Gi-Hun. It now made sense how his member lasted longer erected. His face had some blood stains, probably from his bitten finger. He just watched you with curiosity and a sadistic smile. "So, now what?" You asked flirtatiously which took him aback. He expected you to be scared, but he had to admit, this was even sexier to him. Someone to play with without limitations.

"Well. Now that I know you won't run away or fight back, we could try something different..." His hoarse voice sent shivers down your spine. He removed the handcuffs from your wrists. He took off his tie and left it on a chair with his jacket. He kept his white shirt on but unbuttoned it so you could appreciate his body. "You know... It was a bit offensive that it took you so long to realize I was not Gi-hun." He whispered into your ear pulling you by the leash. His voice sounded almost dangerous. "Now, will you be a good girl and do what I say?" You nodded like a compliant dog to his master. "Good". Your obedience made him smile. "I want to see how far can I go with you."

"Woah!" You exclaimed surprised when you saw him pull out a gun. He pointed the gun to your head and you closed your eyes tightly. Is this how you were going to die? Your adrenaline was soon gone with the pull of the trigger.

"It's not loaded!" He happily showed you the gun's drum even if the demostration alone was enough. What an emotional rollercoster.

"You're a psycho". You spat, not wanting to be completly submissive to his desires. After all, the power struggle was part of the game. What you were maybe not so aware of is that he was the one in charge and he could do whatever he pleased with you.

"You finally show your teeth". His gaze was fixed on yours the whole time as he got down on his knees. His gun was now in between your thighs. You opened your legs even wider so it would be easier to fit in. You gasped covering your mouth as he penetrated you with the gun. "You like that, huh?" He asked, his eyes still fixed on yours, pushing it in and out slowly. His member was still throbbing for you, waiting to have you.

"I would prefer to get fucked by you". He moved the gun away and left it cautiously next to his belongings. It was rather odd for him to be listening to your desires.

"Really?" He massaged the tip of his dick and moved closer to you. You left some space for him on the bed so he could get more comfortable while fucking you. He lined his member with your crotch and pressed it softly. His eyes were filled with desire, but they hid some dark intentions. "You are going to wish I fucked you with my gun". He snapped, thrusting his dick in and out of you. He was ruthless and with a hand pulling your leash, there was nowhere to go. You were already his. "You like that, bitch?". With his free hand, he grabs your hip dipping his nails into your skin. He was fast. And. Rough. He was not going to stop until he came.

"Yes-" You suck in a sharp breath that leaves you shuddering and you clutch at his collar, twisting the fabric, pulling him closer to you. You took some time to admire his handsome features as he pumped his dick in and out of you. He looked even better all sweaty and without that creepy smile on his face. Behind his predatory eyes, he seemed to enjoy this connection, even if it was an unexplored area for him.

"(Y/n)..." He whispers your name, his thrusts becoming more erratic. How did he know it? Well, if he had broken into your house, it wasn't very surprising. You did not know his name, but all that mattered at the moment was the intense pleasure you were feeling. He tilted his head backwards, clossing his eyes. He was about to come. With a loud moan and his nails digging into your hip, he filled your pussy with his hot cum. "Fuck..." He stayed still for a moment before moving away from you. "I really enjoyed that". He said standing up and bending over to give you a kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back, you know that, right?" He stated, giving you some hope as he put his suit on. He left you alone with his cum dripping from your cunt.

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dollzites · 4 months ago

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⏦ﾟ♡︎ “LISTEN.. I LIKE YOU, MORE THAN A FRIEND”

୨ৎ pairing: bestfriend!gdragon x fem reader

୨ৎ genre: fluff! and some slight angst

୨ৎ from myeong: hi hi!! thank you for requesting! I’m so happy to see that there is still so many of us that love jiyong ): he’s such a sunshine! I hope you enjoy this x

a gentle sigh left your lips after checking your phone for around the 100th time now—or maybe you were just being a bit overly dramatic. lifting yourself off the large couch that sat against the wall in jiyong’s studio and heading towards the door when it suddenly opened and here came the man himself that you’d been waiting for. he gave you an apologetic look and shut the door behind him raising his arms to pull you into a tight hug as if you two didn’t just see each other an hour before. this is how it was being best friends with the gdragon himself, as you two were hanging out being the first to take a listen to the album he was working so hard on, he got a call and stepped out for a moment which ended up being much longer than just a moment like he said but you understand more than anyone else. “I’m sorry that took longer than expected princess, got pulled into a short meeting and uh.. well, I’ll be able to perform soon! it’s been so long since I’ve been on stage I’m filled with anxiety about it.” you tilted your head to the side and reached to place a hand on his back, gently rubbing the area for a moment. although jiyong always spoke up about his anxiety especially to you there was a part of you that knew everything would be just fine. he was a man filled with many doubts but he never understood that he was also a man filled with talent and was loved by so many because of it. the hand that was placed on his back slowly reached towards his shoulder and there went your arm wrapping around him and pulling him into you, “hey! let’s not be so negative, okay? anxiety will not ruin a moment like performing after so long this is amazing news! I’ll be there to cheer you on. there’s nothing to worry about.” watching his cheeks turn a light pink color only made you giggle. it was adorable how shy he was around you despite being best friends for a few years now. pinching his cheek in a playful manner he softly pushed you away while covering his face with his free hand, not wanting you to see him anymore.

“what are you so shy for!” you asked before pulling away from him and finding your spot back on the couch. jiyong didn’t say a word to you which only made you raise an eyebrow in confusion but not thinking too much about it. the both of you always had moments like this and it would become super quiet or awkward even, your shyness and his got in the way. “can I listen to more songs jiyong?” you asked finally breaking the silence between the both of you and he quietly nodded. the last song he put on for you to hear was.. something you’ve never heard before. it wasn’t anything that jiyong would make and it confused you. the lyrics had been so intimate and romantic that it honestly sounded like he had someone he was really into or already dating the person. “was this song meant for someone?” you asked without looking at him suddenly feeling shyness come over you especially after hearing such a intimate song. another moment of silence filled the studio and just as your lips parted to speak he beat you to it, “yes. someone very special to me. she’s one of my closest friends.” you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make your heart drop. why? you weren’t sure.. or maybe you were and it was that you’ve had a crush on him for such a long time now but refused to do anything about it. “t-that’s very sweet of you. maybe one day I can meet her.” fool. you never stumble over your words unless you’re extremely embarrassed or shy and you weren’t sure what you felt, it was a mixture of both of those emotions. “you know her quite well.” the sound of his deep voice startled you because it was so close and of course shook you from your thoughts. slowly looking up you were face to face with jiyong. the embarrassed look on his face was enough to tell you he didn’t want to be doing this so why? why did he continue to torture himself because of some crush he had on someone you supposedly knew? because you were best friends? but you had thought that’s how best friends were supposed to be, share everything with each other. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

another long pause of silence filled the room before you spoke up again, “you don’t seem like you’re wanting to talk about it so we don’t have too. I just hope she’ll be a good match for you. that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” and with that a long sigh left his own lips as he slowly pulled his chair away from you. “you just don’t get it do you? or are you acting that way on purpose?” you didn’t look up at him but stared at your white crocs and all the cute charms jiyong got you for them. “jiyong—” he stopped you by leaving the room which only caused you to be more confused about the entire situation and just a few minutes later he returned with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. jiyong wiped his hands against his pants and a drop of sweat ran down the side of his face, a dark reddish color from his hair dye. was this some kind of joke? was he seriously going to use you to practice what he was going to do with the girl he liked? it made you feel so embarrassed! why would he do such a thing knowing how shy of a person you were, this wasn’t a good idea. “listen.. I like you, more than a friend.” jaw dropping to the floor after hearing such words—words that you’d never be able to hear for yourself. “jiyong.. you know I’m not someone you should be practicing this kind of thing with. I’m super awkward and shy! I don’t even know how to react to this.” he looked at you in disbelief thinking you were joking at first but seeing the look on your face he knew you were being serious, this wasn’t going how he planned for it to be. “y/n, princess—no, my princess. I like you. y..you’re the one that I like more than a friend. fuck this is so embarrassing for me! why did I do this.” the flowers that he was once holding were dropped against his keyboard and that’s when it finally hit you. it was.. you. gdragon—no jiyong your best friend liked you more than just a friend. you stood from your seat and finally looked at him trying so badly to fight off the dumb embarrassment you were facing from this. “I’ve always liked you jiyong.” is all you said before turning to face the charms again finding them pretty interesting in a moment like this. he didn’t say anything for a little while until you heard movement and saw his shoes right in front of yours. a warm hand grabbed ahold of your jaw and gently forced you to look up and your eyes finally met his own. “don’t be shy. there’s no reason to be shy with me, hm? that’s what I’ve been wanting to hear for the past few years and I thought you’d never feel the same about me.. but it’s true and I can’t believe it.” a chuckle left his lips and he looked slow at the ground before finding your eyes again. your hands grabbed ahold of his wrists and you slowly turned your head to kiss his palm before shying away from his gaze and finding the charms again. “stop that! look at me.. you’re so pretty this close. can I.. um, can I kiss you? is that okay?” he was always such a gentleman and that’s what you loved the most about him. playfully giving him a ‘pfft’ you nodded your head and awaited for his lips to meet yours—when they did you felt this spark that was so strong and addicting almost, a feeling you’ve been longing for.

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d0rothydraws · 3 months ago

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Piercing

(You have nipple piercings and Sylus finds out. I might do a part 2 is people want it i have ideas.)

You never thought that you would be the kind of person to do this yet here you were. You were out with some friends, as one does. Maybe you were slightly tipsy, maybe someone planted an idea earlier that night. You didn't really know. All you did know is you were laying on a padded chair, shirt off as a man was piercing your nipples.

Now you knew you wouldn't regret it. If anything, you could always take them out and the hole would close eventually. But as the piercings healed and you got used to it, you loved it. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be and also it was like jewelry only you could see. Well, you and..

The night Sylus discovered your piercings was a night you would never remember. You had been what some would call dating for a month or so. While you tried to take it slow because you felt like that was the responsible thing to do, things just felt very natural with him. Though physically, you didn't take the leap yet. At least, fully.

There were plenty of nights where you were on his lap. His hand between your thighs, lips on yours. Yet for some reason you didn't feel ready to fully reveal yourself to him. Call it insecurity or maybe even the fear of it all ending up being for nothing, like usual. You didn't really know.

It was your weekend off work and you came over to his place to destress. You had made plans to watch some movies, play some board games and maybe even finally if you were brave enough, take that final step of intimacy. Coming straight from work Friday night you were still in your work clothes as you arrived. You already had everything you needed at his place. A whole dresser of clothes, your own shampoo and body wash. Any toiletries. If you ran out, he restocked. It was like a second home.

Sylus was still out finishing up god knows what which meant you were alone to your own devices. A fresh change of clothes was calling your name. Moving through the house you entered a room that you continued to deny was yours even though it had more of your items in it than your own room in your apartment. Opening the dresser you pulled out a tank top and some shorts.

Maybe you were still tired from work, maybe you couldn't hear over the song you were humming. Either way, you failed to notice that you no longer were alone. You turned your head to toss your work shirt in the clothes hamper to be washed and in turn was met with ruby eyes. They weren't looking at yours though like usual. They were looking lower.

It took you a moment to realize, you pulled your bra off with your shirt. Not the best for your bra's lifespan. But the best for convivence. So there you stood, in front of Sylus. Topless as your little secret was exposed. You felt heat pull in your gut. This isn't how you wanted the big reveal to happen, but the look on his face made you feel.. powerful. He looked hungry. You even seen his adams apple bob just a bit as he swallowed. With just a simple action you made this man look like he was going to devour you. But even still, he knew you had boundaries. No mater how badly he wanted to touch you.

"My my, kitten." He said, his voice low as he tore his eyes away from your chest to look at you. "Now that is a surprise I wasn't expecting." His voice was teasing but playful. He chuckled slightly, raising an eyebrow. "I wonder if you have any other secrets to uncover."

You didn't know if it was the adrenaline of being walked in on or the look in his eye but your body moved before your mind caught up to you. You stood in front of him as you took his hand and moved it to your breast. Your heart raced as his fingers began to play with the piercing. Taking a deep breath to try and steady your nerves and quickly growing heat that was beginning to boil inside you, you took a step closer so his hand was pushed even more against the soft tissue.

"Why don't you come find out?"

That's all it took before his lips were on yours. His free hand moving to cradle your head as his other hand continued to play with your nipple. You stepped back. He followed. Another step back, and again. Each one until the back of your legs pressed against the bed. Pulling back from the kiss you looked up at him. He looked back at you, his eyes intense but waiting. He was letting you have full control, for now at least.

"I always wanted to try something." You admitted, feeling your heart in your throat. You motioned for him to sit on the bed and as he did you straddled him, not able to stop yourself from pushing your hips against his just enough to make him groan. You had barely done anything to him. You weren't even fully naked. Yet you could feel how much you effected him.

You curled a hand into his hair as you guided his lips to your chest. He didn't need anymore instructions. His teeth toyed with the metal, pulling slightly as it made you gasp. His tongue brushing against your nipple before he pulled it into his mouth. Your head fell back as your eyes closed. A groan vibrated against your skin as he licked and bit at your sensitive skin. After a few minuets he pulled back with a growl before he moved in on the other one. His hips rutted up against you making you moan. His hands moving to your hips as you moved back against him. It felt like he was devouring you.

You heard a slight wet sound as he pulled away from your nipple to lick up your chest and neck. Shivering as the air hit your sensitive, wet skin. A hand moved up your side to cup one of your breasts, thumb and finger playing with your piercing. His voice was a low purr that made your skin tingle.

"I'm not going to be able to keep my hands of you, sweetie."

I havent written anything in so long im tired im sorry. i found this prompt in my drafts and ran with it

#love and deepspace #sylus #lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x reader

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writtenapoiogy · 7 months ago

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for all eternity; jacaerys velaryon

pairing: vamp!jacaerys velaryon x f!reader

summary: Your wedding night and last day as a mortal.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw. 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w lil plot, nerves, titty suckin, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, this is VERY INTIMATE LMAO, kinda possessive, talks of blood (i mean duuuhhh), ALSO IF IT SAYS JACE DOES SOMETHING FAST I MEAN F A S T, briefly edited cause i wanted to get this out

a/n: HAPPY SPOOKY SZN MFS! the change after her being bit isnt that dramatic cause i think it would've made this less hot 🙂‍↔️ so no pain for reader 😁

for; @earth4angels & @princessvelaryon who were just as excited about vamp jace as me 😁

Jacaerys promised to turn you on the night of your wedding. When the two of you finally became one. You would forever be his— which gave you all the more reasons to be nervous.

He stood waist-deep in the water. His pale skin glistened underneath the moonlight. You admired his toned back and shoulders as you approached him.

Your wedding was beautiful. As the day went on your nerves grew stronger. He had brought you to a secluded island that has belonged to his family for centuries.

You took a deep breath and dropped your towel, exposing your bare body underneath.

Jace turned around, hearing your towel land in the sand. If he had a heartbeat, he swore his heart would’ve stopped. You were exquisite. You possessed a one-of-a-kind beauty. And he had been to every spot the earth had to offer.

You stepped into the water, it was pleasantly warm— even though it was the middle of the night. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You tilted your head at your now husband, a smile etched upon your face.

He reached his arms out to you as you stepped closer and closer to him. “Why would I need a camera when I will have you like this for all eternity?” Once he had your hand in his he brought you closer to him— your chest was flush against his own. His words caused your cheeks to warm.

He looked exceedingly handsome. His wet hair was framing his face, beautifully. A small smile remained on his face which made you want to rub your thumb along his cheekbone. Which you freely did. It was only the two of you until the end of time. Well, at least it would be when he took away your mortality.

You took your hand out of his grasp, and brought your now wet hand, to trace along the carvings of his cheekbones.

Jacaerys leaned into your touch. “You’re so beautiful.” He turned and placed a chaste kiss on your palm.

Butterflies stormed your stomach. Your eyes never left the other. His warm brown eyes were plagued with lust and want. Pure desire. You dragged your hand from his cheek to the back of his head. You intertwined your fingers through his curls and pulled him down to close the distance between you. You brought your other hand to tangle into his hair as your lips danced together.

Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you. His grip was intense. You felt his hard member stir in between your bodies. You let out a gasp against his lips.

He shushed you, deepening the kiss. Jace moved his lips to the corner of your mouth before laying kisses on your jaw.

You had begun to get extremely hot. Your body craved him in every sense of the word. There was nothing you wanted more than for him to sink his fangs into you— tying you to him for eternity.

“Then take me right here. I know you could. Jace.” You whined against his ear. “Make me yours.” You were being bold. But there was nothing to stop you now. He was yours and you were his, forever.

“You are ravishing.” Jace sniffed up the side of your neck. Your scent engulfed him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he pictured the blood running through your veins. He knew the taste of your blood would be something that would never leave him.

One of his arms wrapped around your back when you jumped into his arms. The other shot to your neck and allowed Jace to firmly smash his lips against yours again. He tried to distract his brain from turning you right here. But he knew you deserved better than that. You deserved to be comforted and pampered.

Jace would treat you like a queen for the rest of your time together.

You felt something tightening in your core and you moaned against his lips. He hissed as he felt the sensation of your core pulsing against him and pulled you off of him, steadying you into the water. “This has to be special. Cmon." He began to get out of the water.

You grabbed his shirt out of the sand and threw it on before trailing behind him. You felt butterflies begin to dance within your stomach. Excitement ran rapidly inside of you.

Jace stood by the door as you approached his naked form. “My beautiful bride why do you feel the need to cover up.” He smirked at you.

You let out a yelp as Jacaerys scooped you into his arms with quick speed— a talent you would soon possess. He carried you to your shared bed, bridal style. Once he placed you on the bed, you scrambled to sit on your heels and attempted to pull the shirt down to cover your behind.

Jace placed his hand under your chin and tilted your head up. “You don’t need to be shy around me.” He placed a soft barely-there kiss on your lips. “We will get very used to being uncovered around each other. You are my mate after all.” He said against your lips.

You pressed your thighs together at his words and his lingering kiss, hoping for some relief. “Maybe you make me nervous.”

He let out a deep chuckle and pushed away from you. You took in his frame. His pale defined body. From his arms to his abs to… further down. You felt your jaw drop slightly as you took in the sight of his now flaccid member.

“Now this is just unfair.” Jace grabbed a blanket off the side of the bed. Covering his waist.

You looked back up at your husband’s face, a frown adorning your own, you felt a shift in the air. A bright smile lit his face. A sense of playfulness filled the room. You felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. You finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in.

You fell back onto your butt and leaned down against the bed on your elbows. “Come here.” The shirt rode up your stomach only a little but showed Jacaerys your most intimate area. You spread your legs more open for him.

Jace groaned at the sight before him. He crawled onto the bed speedily in pursuit of you. He let the blanket fall off his hips as he entered your space— looming over you. He caged you beneath him. His eyes met yours. Both of your eyes were filled with desire and hunger.

He pressed his lips to yours in urgency. You opened your mouth, pulling his bottom lip in. Jace hummed against your mouth before opening his against yours— letting his tongue invade the inside of your warm mouth.

None of your kisses had ever been like this.

Love and passion? Yes.

A thousand words said with one kiss? Yes.

But never this needy. He needed you and you needed him. And neither one of you was shy about that fact.

Jace pulled away to allow you to catch your breath. “I want to make this a night you never forget.” He scanned your face. Your eyes were clouded with lust.

You used your legs to bring Jacaerys closer to you. His cock, now stiff again, slid through your already wet folds and you both moaned into the other’s mouth. “It already is.”

Your name fell from his lips covered in lust. “You’ve plagued my thoughts ever since the day I met you.” He leaned down onto his left forearm, freeing his right hand to remove his shirt from your body.

You helped Jace remove your shirt. Your nipples perked in the cold atmosphere of the room once they were freed from the confines of the clothing. You were now completely naked under him.

Jace’s eyes landed on your velvety mounds, “So divine, so so very divine…” He leaned down and kissed the soft skin of your chest. The words that left his lips came out as if he wasn’t speaking to you at all— his thoughts emptied from his mouth. He ran his hand up your side till it was directly under your tit.

“May I?”

You nodded fervently. “Anything you want.” Anything he wanted truly, you would give it to him.

Jace’s hand cupped your breast and he brought his mouth down to the hardened bud. He lapped and nipped at your nipple till you were squirming beneath him.

You were on another level. His mouth was on you. You could feel yourself dripping on his length. You ground your hips upwards to relieve this tight knot that had formed in your stomach.

Jacaerys was quick with his movements. He pulled off of your nipple and brought his hand down to your hips, holding you down to the bed. “You are making this so difficult. Sweet vixen.” He growled.

Your back arched closer to his chest. “Making what difficult? Hm?” Your voice came out in a sultry whine. The effect Jacaerys had on you was altering your brain. “I just need you Jacaerys. Don’t you need me too?”

His brown eyes flashed to a deep shade of red. He adjusted his left hand so that he could cradle the back of your head. His right hand lightly let off of your hip and moved down to the space in between your thighs. Where your intimate heat sat wet and throbbing for him.

A disgruntled gasp left your lips as Jace swiped his middle finger through your folds. His touch was feather-light but it was enough to send sparks of pleasure through your body. He brought his finger to your swollen nub.

You slammed your hand over your mouth and felt a blanket of warmth cover your body. Noises were spewing from your lips that left you embarrassed. You had barely felt pleasure at the hands of Jacaerys, but what a sweet and strong pleasure it was.

Jace removed his hand from between your thighs and pulled your hand from your mouth. “Don’t try to quiet yourself. We’re on a deserted island. It’s just me and you. Okay?” There was nothing he wanted more than to hear the noises he could bring out of you.

You nodded and his hand trailed back down to bring that sweet pleasure back to you. You let your mouth go slack when his thumb landed on your clit and he began to rub gratifying circles around the nub.

His eyes never left your face. He was searching for any sign of discomfort and signs of pure bliss. Watching your face contort as he slowly explored you. Jace was rubbing slow and then he picked up the pace. He needed to see what pleased you— and it looked like everywhere he touched he hit the jackpot.

The moans that had left your lips were the sweetest song he had ever heard. He slowly maneuvered his hand so that his middle finger was near your damp entrance. His member was leaking at the mere thought of your core.

You took in a deep breath as he prodded your cunt. Your eyes flew open and they met his own with an intense stare. Your hand gripped his bicep when his finger finally entered you.

Jacaerys’ own body mirrored yours. His chest puffed out as he took in a deep breath mimicking you. His face got insanely close to yours. “You’re so wet.”

You whined and lifted your head to make your lips collide. Jace obliged and started to drag his finger deeper inside of you. His digit pumped into you at a slow pace and he added another finger when he felt you lax around his lone finger.

Your head rolled back into his hand. He left you moaning from his ministrations.

Jace was entranced by you. By the way your cunt squeezed his fingers. The sounds you were making for him. The way your pulse quickened. He picked up the pace of his fingers pumping into you. You were something so special and you were all his.

Your walls gripped his fingers as you grew closer and closer to your first orgasm brought on by him. “Jace..”

“Fuck.” His thumb found your clit yet again and rubbed rougher circles against it. His thumb and two digits were in sync with each other.

Your orgasm rippled through your body in mere seconds. A sweet cry of moans and whimpers flooded out from you as Jace brought you down from the peak of your pleasure. “Jace.. Jacaerys. I’m ready for you.”

Jace removed his fingers from inside of you and brought them to his own mouth. You stared at him intensely as he placed his fingers, which were covered in your essence, on his tongue and groaned at the taste.

“So divine.” His words were not a thought spoken aloud this time. His voice didn’t even sound like his own. Deeper. Rich. Hot.

He moved so that your head was now resting on the pillow underneath you. Jace sat up and positioned himself in between your legs— right in front of your core. He gripped his cock and leaned back over you, his left arm holding him up.

You looked down in between your bodies when you felt him rub the head of his cock against your throbbing pearl. Your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He ran his member through your slit til it met your entrance.

You felt yourself tense and you held your breath. He was bigger than his fingers of course. And though he prepped you, you still knew it would sting.

“It’s okay, my love.” He kissed your forehead. He did his best to reassure and calm you. “Just breathe.”

You took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. After a few seconds, your body became less tense and you finally relaxed underneath him.

Jace slowly pushed inside of you. The world crashed around him. “Fuck. You’re so tight.” He kept going til he was fully seated within your cunt. “You’re doing so good.”

A deep mewl fell from your lips once you were full of Jacaerys.

He sat still for a few breaths, letting you adjust around him. His fingers dug into the sheets under the two of you. He was trying his best to hold back. His strength and speed were enough to destroy you in your fragile human state. Jace grabbed your hip with the hand that was just guiding him. He placed sweet kisses on your cheek and down your neck.

“Jace move. Please.”

Jace began his thrusts slowly. Letting you get used to the drag of him. He wanted this to be just as special for you as it was for him. You two were becoming one in more ways than one tonight and he did not want to hurt you unintentionally.

Your moans were louder and more uncontrolled than they had been with his fingers inside of you. You started to sweat more and more. Your body was on fire and the sheets began to stick to you.

Jacaerys hovered his mouth right over yours, he loved feeling your breath along his face as you panted. He sped up the pace of his thrusts— his hips collided against you with a delicious slap. He delved into your warmth. The heat from your body under his. The warmth and softness of your cunt.

Your core pulsed around him and his eyes darted to the pulse point on your neck. He would swear he could’ve seen the blood flowing through your veins. Your delectable blood. Jacaerys’ canines extended from his gums, his fangs now in your view. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I can’t help it right now. I can’t control anything right now.” His hips stuttered. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“It’s okay.” You placed one of your fingers onto his sharp tooth. You were quite fascinated by him. His iridescent skin. His sharp-extended canines. “Would it be easier if I was on top? So you don’t have to worry about losing control?”

You saw something flash in his eyes and in less than a second he had you two flipped, and his cock had begun to slide back into you.

Your eyes slammed shut, “Jace.” You moaned. The angle was different— deeper. You rotated your hips in an attempt to feel all of him. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“Yeah, I don’t think this is gonna help.” Jace whimpered as he dragged his cold fingers over your thighs then around your hips and up to your lower back. His fingers left a cool sting. Your soft and warm skin felt heavenly beneath his touch.

You slowly started to roll your hips, finding what felt good. You threw your hands down on Jace’s chest when he adjusted his hips beneath you. The head of his cock had hit that tender spot deep within you.

No words were shared between the two of you as you brought you both pleasure. Just moans and gasps. Grinding your hips down on his. Your name left his lips like he was saying a spell.

Jacaerys sat up, changing the angle once again. He wrapped one arm around your back bringing your bodies flush against each other. Your warm skin against his ice-cold— a beautiful contrast. He guided your hips. Doubling the pleasure you both felt. The two of you were very close.

Your mouth was near his ear and you were moaning his name. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten again. “I love you.” You spoke. You kissed the outside of his ear and then down the side of his neck. You placed sloppy kisses in your wake. Scraping your teeth against his satiny skin.

Jace let out a deep groan and his cock twitched inside of you as you bit at his neck. Gods, he couldn’t wait til you had fangs of your own.

You rolled your head to the side of his shoulder when you felt another wave of pleasure getting ready to crash upon you. You offered your neck to him. You knew there was no better time for him to turn you than right now. “Bite me Jacaerys. Make me yours for all eternity.”

Jacaerys brought one of his hands to the back of your head and the other held you tight around your back. He sunk his fangs into the meatiness of your neck. As soon as his teeth pierced your skin, both of your orgasms hit you. His seed spilled inside of your cunt smearing your walls with his essence. His venom was injected into your veins. Rewiring you completely. He had consumed your entire being.

Your blood was the sweetest Jacaerys had ever acquired. He sucked the blood from you till your body ran cold and the pitter-patter of your heart stilled. He released you from his teeth and you lifted your head from his shoulder— meeting each other’s gaze.

Your eyes fell to his crimson-colored lips and you felt your canines extend. You leaned forward and crashed your lips into his. This was hungry and harsh.

Jace lifted his hips back up into you. That was just the first of many rounds you were to enjoy. He pulled away from the kiss. “You ready for more, my fledgling?”

You smiled down at him— your fangs on full display for him to see.

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