#LEMME RUFFLE HIS HAIR
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justcubbystuff · 1 year ago
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Im sorry but,
Yall “dissing”/making fun of Iso are
WRONG.
He is so fucking cute. Like. His soft voice, him talking about snacks—just his lines—, how he apologizes or encourages...And his line where he says "Nainai, I did this to make you proud."
And he's so polite like- 🥺
ITS SO CUTE. HES A CUTIE. LEMME CRADLE HIM (LMAO). ❤💜
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 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!
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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:
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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:
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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.” 
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youruser: hola chica 🤭
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-
PART TWO IS HERE!
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eleganzadellarosa · 9 months ago
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Melted
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pairing: olderbrothersbestfriend!chan x needy fem! reader
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: MDNI (I'm sorry if this changes the way you see ice cream, pwp I guess, fast paced plot, unprotected sex (don’t 👀), big dick Chan (because what else would he be?), overstim, squirting, hair pulling, choking, creampie, Chan calls reader Baby, reader calls him Channie)
word count: 5.82K
A/N: Just because my mind has been on Chan A LOT lately. Also…this isn’t proofread 😬
Why would you like someone that ruffles your hair, tickles your sides and calls you “baby” as a nickname? Sounds childish right? Not to you when it comes to your huge crush on Chan. You know that’s just how he is with you and has been since you were younger, but you wish it meant something different to him.
Chan is best friends with your older brother, he’s basically been a part of your family for over 10 years. You’ve always liked Chan, but not in that way until your crush developed right before he moved. His family moved away for a while during his late teen years so you hadn’t seen him in quite some time. Then he suddenly came back and he was like a whole new person. His personality didn’t change, no, the way he looked did and you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since.
He and your brother are 25 and you’re stuck being 23. It wasn’t a big enough gap to make anyone bat an eye, but you knew he always viewed you as his best friend’s little sister and you weren’t sure how to make that change. You watched as he pulled up in front of your house, picking up your brother like usual. They spent so much time together, you were almost past the point of jealousy and wanted to hate your brother for taking him away every time.
You stood in the open garage, watching him hop out the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved when he saw you and did a little jog onto the sidewalk and into the garage. Maybe things didn’t need to change and you needed to find someone else to crush on, but it was so hard when he would open his arms for you to hug him and would squeeze you tight until you couldn’t handle it anymore.
“Hey baby, missed you. How ya been?”
Baby. You would never get over that nickname. It gave you that warm fuzzy feeling but also gave you that second heartbeat.
“Hey Channie, you know same old same old. Where have you been all week?” You knew where he’d been but you’d do anything to have a longer conversation with him before your brother snatched him away.
“I went to go visit my family, they told me to tell you hi.” He smiled and you smiled back knowing how much his family loved you, which oddly enough made you like him more. “I got you somethin’, close your eyes.”
You obliged, closing your eyes waiting almost impatiently to see what he had for you. Not being able to see him in front of you but feeling his presence made a light blush fall on your cheeks. You felt his fingertips graze the skin on your hand and the sudden contact made you jump slightly. He carefully opened your hand and you felt the cold contrast of something against your palm.
“Open your eyes.”
You looked down to see a dainty anklet with small charms dangling from it. Your eyes lit up seeing each charm perfectly handpicked with things he knew you’d like. It was gorgeous and on closer inspection, it looked expensive. You didn’t care how much it cost, only worrying that he spent too much of his money on you, but loving that he got you a gift at all.
“Baby, do you like it?” He made dangerous eye contact waiting for you to reply. It didn’t help you gather your thoughts any quicker even though you had your answer already. He made your nervous system short circuit.
“Y-yeah Channie, I love it!” You smiled as much as you could to cover the way you swallowed thickly seeing him stand so close to you.
“Really? Oh gosh I’m glad, I thought I chose something you wouldn’t like.” He had to be lying. He could pick a leaf off a tree and you’d be jumping for joy. “Here lemme see, I’ll put it on for you.”
You gasped when he lifted you up to seat you on your dad’s workbench that sat at the back of the garage. The heat seeping in from outside was hot enough, but now you were sure you could break a thermometer. He kneeled down and wrapped the cold jewelry around your ankle. You were unconsciously holding your breath, scared of having any reaction because if you let go, you’d probably moan and you’d rather not make this awkward.
He looked up at you with your foot still in his hand, “It looks great baby, I like it.” God that comment had you slippery wet. He liked it on you? Now you’d never take it off. “Make sure you think of me every time you look at it.” He shot you a wink and your breath got caught in your throat preventing you from swallowing.
This conversation would be stored for fuel whenever you needed something to tip you over the edge at night. You almost said something equally seductive back, almost, when your brother came and took Chan away. You were used to it by now, never really having more than 10 minutes tops of alone time with him. It was frustrating, having to get most of your information from your brother who always reluctantly told you, asking “why do you wanna know anyways?”
You think Chan would tell you no hesitation if you actually had the chance to speak with him. But truth be told, you’d never be able to do such a thing with your brother around. He made it clear on multiple occasions that he didn’t approve of a relationship between you two if it ever came to be, but all three of you knew that would never be brought into existence.
You sat in the same spot on the tool bench, swinging your foot to see the charms sparkle in the small rays of sunshine. Chan said to think about him every time you looked at it, so you did. The thought of you on your knees in front of him, him slipping his thumb past your lips telling you to suck if you wanted to be rewarded. The ideas that ran freely were filthy and getting worse by the second. Your thighs rubbed together tightly as you felt yourself grow wetter with each passing thought.
The sun shined brightly through the small gaps between your blinds, easing you awake with its warmth. The weekends were the best because it was almost guaranteed that you’d get to have breakfast with Chan. It was an unspoken tradition and you marked it off in your mental calendar. You quickly washed your face before heading downstairs to the kitchen, only to see it completely empty besides the few duffle bags that sat beside the island.
“Where are you going?” You asked your brother who walked in at the perfect time before you could stump yourself with more unanswered questions.
“Didn’t mom tell you? I’m going to stay at a beach house with a few friends for the weekend.” He stuffed a few more things in his bag, talking with his back facing you.
“No…is Chan going too?” You asked carefully trying to make it seem like a normal question.
He rolled his eyes and leaned up against the marble island. “Next time you need to just start asking Chan these questions since you always wanna know everything about him. And no, he’s not coming.”
“Really?” A smile spread across your face but you quickly wiped it away when you saw your brother narrow his eyes.
“Don’t go bothering him while I’m away, he’s doesn’t wanna hang with you at all so just stay home!”
“You’re such an asshole, he never said that!”
“You don’t know what he said because you’re not his best friend! Just don’t bother him okay?” He sucked his teeth as he picked up his bags and walked out the door, kicking it closed with his foot.
He didn’t know what he was talking about. Chan wouldn’t say that, he would love to hang out with you. Right? You felt like a teenager crushing on a college boy that was far out of your league for multiple reasons but you swore you had a chance.
You sulkily walked upstairs back to your room and flopped on your bed. Being that your brother didn’t want you to bother Chan, it made you more curious as to what he could be doing right now. It sucks that you didn’t have his number or really any way to contact him. Well you did, you were just too scared to actually do it.
It was nothing but a 10 minute walk and 2 minute drive to get to his house but in the back of your mind, you were scared he actually wouldn’t want to see you. What would you say; what would be your reasoning for coming to see him?
“I have a crush on you and I want to be around you, please let me in?”
Like hell that would work. He’d probably slam the door in your face, call your brother and tell him how annoying and stupid his little-
There was a ring at your doorbell.
Your head snapped to your left, slightly shocked you had any visitors. It could easily be your neighbor since she always seemed to pop up randomly. “I got it!” You yelled out, jogging down the stairs. You looked out the peephole to see Chan standing there. Your heart started racing and you quickly looked over your appearance before opening the door.
“Channie?! What are you doing here?”
“Aww baby you aren’t happy to see me?” A cute little pout painted his face and you wanted to drag him in and kiss him all over.
“What? No, of course I am! My brother’s not here and I thought you knew…”
“Oh yeah I knew, I came to see you.”
He said it so nonchalantly as if it was normal to come see you. As if you both agreed to hang out today. Or as if you always hung out when your brother wasn’t around. He had to know what this was doing to you, there was no way he didn’t. You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find the strength to let the words come forward.
“I figured you’d be here all by yourself, so I thought I’d come pick you up.” He smiled brightly and there were those cute dimples. God you felt like you were gonna explode.
“I…umm…” you were stuttering and if he didn’t stop staring at you, you were going to be stuck like this.
He looked a bit sad and disappointed but waited to see what you would say. “It’s okay if you don’t want to Baby. I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry.”
You quickly reached out to touch his arm and practically melted into a puddle, “No no Channie, I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out with me. I’d love to go to your house, especially since I’ve never seen this one.”
He smiled again, “Of course I would Baby, you’re my best friend! Now come on, hop in”
Oh how this was never something you thought would happen in a million years. You were Chan’s best friend? As much as you wanted this, there must have been some kind of mistake. Surely he didn’t actually think so.
He grabbed your hand and lead you to his jeep and opened your door for you. “Thank you Channie” barely left your lips before he reached inside and buckled your seatbelt, smiling at you before he closed your door. Your body was on fire; ignited from the soft and simple touches. You were down bad, there was no better way to put it. If he kept moving like this, you’d have to go home and deal with the problem between your legs.
His house was nice, nothing too big or small, just right for him. He had a great sense of decor and he kept his place sparkling clean. Scattered about on different pieces of furniture were photos of him, family and even younger pictures of the 3 of you.
“Baby, make yourself at home, you can sit anywhere you’d like.” He spoke to you from the little pass through window in the kitchen.
You nodded your head but decided to explore his living room some more. When you walked past the patio door, you noticed a reflection on the ground outside.
“Oh my gosh Channie, you have a pool?! Why didn’t my brother tell me?”
He walked over to you with a large red double popsicle and chuckled at the amused look on your face. “I’m gonna punch him when I see him, I told him to tell you because I know how much you love swimming. We can go out there if you want.”
He broke the popsicle in two and handed you a half. “I would love to…but I don’t have a bikini with me.”
“Just get in with what you have on.” He leaned against the side of his couch as he sucked on the cold treat.
You looked down at your outfit, a plain white tee and some daisy patterned shorts. “But I won’t have anything to change into. I can walk back home and get something.”
“Orrrrr, you can just wear some of my clothes until yours are dry.”
What was with him saying all this so nonchalantly? When have you ever worn his clothes? The smell must be absolutely amazing, he always smelled so good. If he was offering, you might as well just take it.
“Hmm” you bit your lip and smiled, “okay, but I don’t wanna get in by myself.”
He smiled as he finished off his half of the popsicle and chewed on the stick. He jolted off the side of the couch and pulled his shirt off. You almost choked on the leftover ice you had in your mouth. What the fuck was he thinking?
“Come on Baby, come swim with me.”
He opened the door and ran and jumped in without hesitation. After little to no consideration, you followed behind him, diving right in. The water was a perfect way to cool off in the hot summer sun. He swam over to you, hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. The droplets of water shined against his toned, muscular body. You wanted to lick him dry, no matter how long it took.
His right hand slid over your waist and around to your back, “you look so cute, I could kiss you right now.”
Cute? Kiss? Cute and kiss in the same sentence? Maybe you needed to pinch yourself to wake up from this completely unrealistic dream.
“M-me? I’m just plain and boring.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for not stuttering too much with how close he was and what he just said.
“You’ve never been either baby, no way that’s what you actually think.” His eyebrows raised in shock.
“Well yeah…there’s so many prettier girls than me. I’m just me, but they’re-“
It happened so fast that your mind didn’t process it. He bent down to press his lips to yours and hold you a bit tighter. Your arms were around his neck and you reciprocated the kiss faster than the fear set in. His tongue swiped over your lip and you happily allowed him to explore your mouth.
Somehow being drenched in the pool made it feel more sensual, nothing left to the imagination, bodies practically touching through the thin fabrics. You could feel how hard he was, pressing it right up against your thigh. You bravely touched him through his shorts, earning a small moan from him.
He ran a hand up the back of your thigh and roughly grabbed your ass. It wasn’t until you felt something press into your back that you realized he moved the both of you closer to the edge of the pool. He trailed the kisses over your jaw and to your neck. You were breathing heavily, making no effort to stop the sounds coming from you.
“I wonder how good you’d sound if I fucked you.”
“Channie please, oh fuck.”
Desperate was too innocent of a word to describe how badly you wanted him. You’d do whatever it took to make your dreams come true.
“Would you like that baby? Let me fuck you and make you feel good?”
At this point you were sure you stopped breathing. He looked so good with his wet hair, heavy lids, toned body pressed right against yours. Of course you’d like that.
“Yes Channie, I want it, I want you.”
He slipped your shirt over your head and left open mouthed kisses down your neck and across your chest. Just as he moved to get your nipple in his mouth, a loud ring came from inside the house; it was his phone.
“You should go get that Channie.”
He looked at you, lips parted and breathing heavily. “Fuck, okay I’ll be right back.”
He hopped out the pool and went inside while you tried to put all the pieces together. So Chan liked you? Or he simply just wanted a fuck buddy? Or maybe he just wanted to fuck you because he knows how much you like him and knew you’d be easy? The insecurity began to weigh down on you and now you just wanted to go home.
When he returned, he squatted down next to you, who was now slightly turned away from him with your arms wrapped around yourself in order to seek comfort.
“That was your brother, he said he’s coming home early because someone got food poisoning. So…he asked me to pick him up.” He reached out and touched your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?”
“Yeah Channie, you can just take me home.” You made sure to not let him see the tears brimming your eyes.
“You sure you’re-“
“Yes, I’d like to go home please.”
He watched you for a few seconds longer, definitely able to notice the shift in your mood, he just didn’t know what caused it. “Okay, let me at least get you a change of clothes.”
The ride back home was short and you got out before he could to open your door for you. He shouted something about seeing you later before driving off as you closed your front door behind you. You still didn’t have his number, so him hitting you up later wouldn’t be a thing, unless he was bold enough to ask your brother but you both knew that would open a can of worms you weren’t ready to try and close.
Now you were a bit nervous that he would tell your brother what happened because he wanted to know why you looked so sad. You’d just avoid him as much as you could and hopefully he would forget anything ever happened.
“As much as I don’t want you to, I need you to come with me and Chan so you can help me choose a gift for my girlfriend.” Your brother came into your room, not bothering to knock since your door was already opened slightly.
“I didn’t say you could come in!”
“Oh my god, yes or no?”
“You didn’t ask me anything dumbass and why don’t you already know what your girlfriend likes?”
“I do know but I want to know what’s the best out of the options I have and you’re a girl.”
“Umm…I guess?”
You were conflicted. You wanted to see Chan, you missed him even though it had only been two days since your encounter in the pool. But you also didn’t want to see him right now because you didn’t want to explain anything to him, yet if you said that your brother would for sure know something happened between you two.
“Okay well be ready in like 10 minutes, set a timer or something.”
Chan and your brother greeted each other like always and when he looked over at you, he looked as if he wanted to come hug you. “Hey baby, you coming with us today?”
Your brother rolled his eyes when you let a smile creep past your lips. You were weak for Chan, he knew exactly what to say to make you melt. Maybe you were thinking about it wrong, maybe he really did like you and he actually wanted to be with you. But having it happen so suddenly made you think perhaps you let your guard down too quickly.
You felt like such a third wheel around the two boys, laughing at their inside jokes and not worrying about you following behind them. Well Chan did, he would look back to make sure you were still there and smile at you when you made eye contact. It felt like hours even though but had only been 30 minutes of walking around the mall looking for the perfect gift.
“Girls like jewelry, so get her something she can always wear.” Your brother’s gaze followed yours down to your anklet. Before he could ask you where you got that, Chan spoke up.
“Yeah I told you that the other day man, if you really love her you should get her something that she can keep for a long time but also that you put effort into choosing.” He looked over at you when he said it, hoping you caught on to what he said.
You tried your hardest not to blush, your brother standing way too close for you to even let out a small squeal.
“Yeah that’s what I wanna get her but I’m not sure she’ll wear it, I never see her wearing jewelry.”
“Trust me bro, she’ll love it.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded his head.
“I’m gonna go get some ice cream and then head back to the car you guys.” You said waving your hand as you walked away. Your brother nodded as he answered his phone.
“Is it okay if I come with you baby?” Chan ran to catch up with you before you got too far.
“Sure Channie, I’ll pay for you.”
“You’re so funny Baby, I’m paying for the both of us.” As you approached the stand, he turned around grimacing. “Aww baby they’re all out of rocky road.”
After all these years, he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor. “It’s okay Channie, just get me whatever you get.”
He smiled softly and nodded and ordered two strawberry cheesecake cones. You walked back with him to his car to enjoy yet another frozen treat in his presence. Of course, he opened your door and let you hop in before he did the same.
“Damn it’s already melting…”
“I prefer ice cream when it melts a little. Like when it drips down my fingers. It just tastes better that way…well to me anyway.” You realized you were babbling, so you looked up at him but he was already looking at you.
“You wanna lick mine off my fingers?”
The question alone could have made you cum, but the way he looked at you; eyes slightly hooded, lips parted, that had you throbbing. You couldn’t even answer him. Actually your mind was blank so you didn’t have an answer or any response to what he just said. He saw it on your face though. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He’s wanted you for a long time and as many hints as he tried throwing your way, you never seemed to catch them.
It became too much for him, your brother always getting in his way of spending alone time with you. He didn’t care what your brother thought about it though. He wanted you and he wanted you bad. So when he eased his hand toward your mouth and you happily let him push a finger past your lips, he knew he didn’t have to try to make you understand anymore; he made that clear when you were in the pool the other day.
“Sorry it’s not your favorite flavor.” He said, removing his finger to replace it with a new one.
“It is now.” Your words were partially cut off by the intrusion of his fingers. You were soaked and your head felt fuzzy, you felt like you were going to die.
You never broke eye contact and he watched you intently. “You can’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to ruin you.”
“Maybe I want you to.” You licked and sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could muster.
He licked his ice cream then shifted more toward you so he could kiss you. The contrast of the cold dessert and the heat from his tongue made you whimper. He slowly let your warmth melt the ice cream and drip down onto your neck and chest. He happily chased the drops with his tongue making sure none of it went to waste.
“Oh god Channie, mmm~”
He caught sight of your brother making his way over to the car so he quickly halted his actions and returned to his seat. “He’s coming, act normal. Deep breaths.”
Well that was surely easier said than done. He just licked the majority of his ice cream off of you, leaving you slightly sticky in multiple places. This was torture, getting so close to what you want only to be cockblocked by your brother once again.
“Yo Chan, is it cool if I stay at your place tonight? My girlfriend might stop by too.”
“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.”
“Okay cool, we can just drop Y/N off.”
You quickly turned, an exaggerated pout on your face, ready to fight your case. “NO FAIR!”
“It’s fine if she stays, I don’t mind.” Chan looked at your brother through the rear view mirror.
“What?! No way, she’s literally just going to bother us the entire time!”
“Fuck you, no I won’t! You always get to hang with Chan by yourself, I can be around him too!”
“Hey! It’s alright, you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the couch. I promise it’s fine.”
Your brother rolled his eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. Maybe you were childish, but you weren’t going to let your day end without at least having another make out session.
You thanked God your brother’s girlfriend came quite late and that she took all his attention off of you and Chan. You all enjoyed some snacks and had movie night. It was nearing almost 2am by the time the movie was over, so your brother took her to the guest room where he was staying for the night.
You stayed up with Chan to help him tidy up even though he insisted he didn’t want you to.
“Is it okay for me to wear another one of your shirts Channie? I didn’t pack anything.”
He looked up from the dishes he just finished, “you don’t have to ask Baby, of course you can.” He gave you a big dimpled smile but then it dropped. “Can I ask you somethin’?”
“Yeah of course, what’s up?”
“Why were you so sad the other day? You know…in the pool.”
You knew he would ask you eventually so you might as well just tell him now and get it over with. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t sure how to feel and was hoping you weren’t only doing it to take advantage of me.”
He walked up to you and kissed your forehead. “Oh Baby, I would never do that to you. I love you and I can’t ever say it or do anything about it because your brother’s always around. I’m sorry if I came off so strong but don’t ever think I’d do anything to take advantage of you. I love you, yeah?”
He rubbed his thumb over your hand and tilted his head waiting for you to nod your head. It took a heavy weight off your shoulders to hear him express his true feelings and being that he said it so easily helped you understand how genuine he was being.
“My room is all yours Baby, it’s the last door at the end of the hall. You can wear whatever you want and there’s towels in the closet in the bathroom.”
“Thank you for letting me stay Channie.” You stood on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek and quickly ran away, leaving him in the kitchen with red ears.
You felt refreshed after your shower and even more comfortable as you slipped into one of his shirts. Since you didn’t bring a change of clothes, his shirt was the only thing covering you and barely so. You hopped into his king sized bed and playfully rolled around, enjoying the big size.
You looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand, it had already been more than an hour since everyone went to bed. You weren’t sleepy though, so you pulled out your phone and scrolled aimlessly on your socials. A soft knock on the door turned your attention towards it.
“Come in.”
Chan walked through the door, smiling when he saw you so comfy in his bed. “I couldn’t sleep but I also didn’t try…and, I can’t let you leave before I kiss you again.”
“Well good because I was thinking the same thing.”
He fully shut the door and locked it before he removed his shirt and hopped in the bed with you, lips immediately catching yours. His hands came up to grope your breasts roughly, sucking and biting your bottom lip as he did so. He slid a hand under your shirt, breaking the kiss when he felt your bare skin.
“God Baby, you’re driving me crazy. Seeing you in nothing but my shirt is making me sooo hard.” You took his hand in yours and moved it over your pussy. “Fuck…so wet already.”
He moved down closer to the edge of the bed and kissed his way down from your stomach. He gave you butterflies in the best way possible. His lips danced across the skin on your inner thighs sending tingles up your spine.
“Channie…” you say breathlessly and he looks up at you as his mouth attaches to your sensitive bud.
With his head between your legs, messily eating your pussy, your eyes were squeezed shut. It took every bone in your body to not moan, knowing that if you did, you would be loud. He sensed it, so he stopped eating you out and crawled on top of you.
He used two fingers to slip into you while his thumb pressed down harshly on your clit. “Don’t hide them from me, I wanna hear them.”
“B-but my brother is here.”
“And I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don’t hold back Baby, lemme hear your pretty moans.” His fingers sped up their pace, not giving you any other option. You moaned as your back arched slightly. “That’s it Baby, good girl.”
It turned him on watching how his actions made you react but he needed more; needed to feel the way your pussy wrapped around him like it didn’t want to let him go. You reached out to pull on his shorts and finally free his achingly hard dick from its confines. He was BIG but what did you really expect, it was just really really intimidating. None of that mattered though, you just wanted him in you without any interruptions.
He hissed when he used your arousal to mix with his and coat his length. He gave it a few pumps before he eased the head past your entrance. “I’ll go slow okay baby?”
“Okay Channie just keep going, please don’t stop.”
He caught his lip between his teeth, feeling the lust course through his veins hearing you beg and feeling the tightness of your walls. He watched your face contort in pleasure.
He was barely half way in, stretching you open with ease. “T-too big Channie…” You eyes were rolling back and you were already slurring your words.
“You can take it, look you’re doing so well for me Baby” he touched his forehead to yours and grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you again, “you feel so good Baby, so so fucking good, such a good girl for me.”
When he bottomed out he leaned over you to catch his breath so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. Your head was spinning. His body pressed into yours and the way he spoke to you already had your toes curling. He pulled out to the tip, your pussy making a squelching noise, and he quickly thrust himself back in. Your back arched off the bed and you almost screamed.
As much as you wanted to keep your sounds at bay, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep the volume down to a minimum. He snapped his hips forward with desperation, grunts and moans falling from the both of you. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough to make your head get fuzzy and awaken every nerve in your body. He pounded into you with no remorse, making this worth the long wait.
He suddenly pulled out, causing you to whine in response, and sat against the headboard. “Come ride me, wanna feel you in this position.”
You crawled over to him then hovered over his still hard, leaking dick. You sank down on him, taking small breaks so you wouldn’t faint from the pleasure. He bucked his hips up, making you drop down fully. He held you under your butt, spreading your pussy open to help you bounce on his dick easily.
The more you hopped up and down on him, the more you felt the sticky substances mix and connect the two of you. Your legs gave out when he started to thrust up into you every time you dropped down. He repositioned you so that you were on your knees, leaning forward into him. He grabbed a handful of your hair, your back arching more, as he hugged you and fucked you violently. The new angle made him abuse your sweet spot.
“Letting me fuck you with your brother just down the hall, I didn’t know you were such a slut Baby.”
“Mmm ah! Only for you Channie!”
He held you tighter when he felt your pussy clench around him. This is exactly what he wanted, what he dreamed of. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer himself, so he quickly flipped you onto your back again. One hand on the back of one of your knees and the other rubbing harsh circles on your clit.
“Oh fuck…oh fuck Channie I’m gonna cum!”
“You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum with me, make a mess all over my dick.”
He thrust deeper into you and bent down to suck on one of your nipples. A few more loud moans and circles on your clit and your pussy fluttered as you reached your orgasm. He didn’t stop and kept up his quick pace until you squirted all over him and the sheets below.
“Fuuuuuck” his hips stuttered and he pushed himself deep as he painted your walls white. He pulled out quickly, the rest of his cum spilling into his hands and seeping through his fingers.
When you looked down, you couldn’t help but grab his hands to put his fingers in your mouth. Funny enough, the cum looks just like the way you love your ice cream.
“Channie, I think you’re my favorite flavor.”
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writersdrug · 5 months ago
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waitress reader’s reaction to bartender Ghost getting hit on by someone they think is more attractive?
Oh, she would be so so jealous.
You're wiping down your table, standing on your tippy-toes to reach the middle of the high-top, when you spot the receipt tucked in between the sugars and the pepper. Another successful, big tip, and you're tucking your rag into your server apron and jogging across the floor to share your victory with Simon - when you spot her.
She's sitting at the bar; perfect, blonde waves of her hair cascading down her upper back. She's stylish, wearing a green, corduroy jacket and skinny jeans, wedges on her perfectly manicured feet. Her ankles are crossed politely on the edge of the barstool, her back is arched with perfect posture, and you just know her boobs are a ten out of ten, even though you're facing her back. She's definetly taller than you, you can see that while she's sitting down.
You're so jealous you're probably steaming - and the worst part about it is Ghost. He's not giving her the gruff, unbothered attitude he usually gives everyone at the bar - far from it. He's leaning back against the liquor shelf, eyes crinkled in what you can only assume is a flirtatious smile, hands gripping the counter to flex those goddam Greek-god muscles. He listens to her as she prattles on, laughing at everything and anything he has to say (he just asked if she needed more napkins. Why the fuck is that so funny?!)
Truthfully, he's over this chick. He's the same as you, playing up his charm to keep those tips rolling in - but this girl is exhausting. Always laughing, kinda daft, talks like she's the only woman on the planet... his muscles are tense as he fights the urge to throw his rag at her, he's grimacing behind his mask, teeth clenching to hold back an annoyed groan and god does she ever shut the fuck up-
He notices you, standing in the middle of the restaurant floor, pen tucked into your hair, with flyaways sprouting from your scalp like fireworks, chin slightly jutted out in a pout. Your hands are balled into fists at your sides - you're choking your notepad to death, and you have the nastiest, most adorable look on your face that Simon's ever had the pleasure of seeing.
He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. "Doin' alright, luv?"
You blink at him, and he has to hold back a snort. The girl turns around to you - great. She's hot, too.
"Oh- hey..." she grabs her ramekin from her dish and holds it out to you. "Is there more ketchup?"
You glare at her for a few moments, not bothering to hide your distaste for her. Simon's about to get it himself, but you snatch the ramekin from her and storm past the kitchen door with a "lemme see."
Ghost furrows his brow at your irate behavior. He wonders if one of the customers gave you a hard time; he politely excuses himself from the woman (thank fuck, she's getting exhausting) and goes to check on you in the kitchen.
"-ye need a feckin' wot now?!"
"I need you to fill a ramekin with half ketchup and half tobasco!"
"Ye got hot sauce oan all th' bloody tables!"
"I need you to do it!"
Ghost chuckles to himself, putting the pieces together. He isn't blind - he recognizes that green-eyed monster anywhere, lord knows he's felt it too. Makes his chest ouff up a bit, seeing you get all ruffled and grumpy over him. It also makes him feel a bit better about fussing over you, when his patrons try to win you over. Guess we both have double standards.
You walk back out, smiling at the woman and handing her the ramekin back. "You got the last of the ketchup! Enjoy!" And, with a cheeky grin, you walk back off to tend to your tables.
She looks at Simon and he shrugs. "Looks like ya got lucky."
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tastesousweet · 10 months ago
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⭒ blurb : stream hype
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bf!hamzah x poc!reader
summary: based on this ask!!! just a lil blurb where yn gives hamzah and viewers a try on haul during a stream
mickey speaks: ok i did smthg different than the tiktoks for this one but i love writing these & im glad u love them too 😭💗 i need hamzah as my boyfriend like NOWWW
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hamzah’s streaming in the corner of your shared bedroom when you get home from a day out with your girlfriends
he can hear you make your way through the house before you peek your head into the room with a smile, “hi, i’m home!”
he’s immediately grinning at the sight of you, “heyyy, look who’s back” and motions you to come closer with his hand
he’s not shocked at alllll when you have handfuls of shopping bags with you when you open the door fully
you place them on your bed with a large sigh before coming closer to greet hamzah
he remains seated as you hug; his face tucked into your lower stomach and loving arms wrapped around your hips as you play with the bits of hair peeking from his beanie
he whispers “i missed you” hoping the stream doesn’t catch it since he’s further away from the mic
they totally hear that shit and the chat is flooded with remarks about how cute the two of you are
he pulls away and looks up at you as you talk, “missed you more...do you need me to grab you anything? i’ll probably go watch something and give you a haul whenever you’re done here.”
“no, im good. i won't be on for too much longer”
"m'kay," you nod your head and make sure to greet the viewers before you exit, bending down so you’re in frame and showing off your lovely smile and energy (that hamzah admires in the monitor) “hiiii and byeeee!” you wave and blow a kiss. hamzah’s smile never fades as he watches you.
as soon as you’re gone hamzah reads over the chat, which is full of people begging for you to come back, “seriously??? am i not enough for you guys?”
after a while he gives in and pulls out his phone to call you, showing the camera his screen with your name and photo on it, before putting it on speaker for them to hear
“hi, are you okay?” your smooth voice comes through the scratchy phone audio
“yes, but the people are not. they want you to hang out in here” he smiles and bites his lip in anticipation of your response
“are you lying?”
his face screws up, “why would i lie??”
“well why’d you call instead of yelling for me?? im just in the other room,” you giggle
“because this is fun-er.”
“okay, im coming”
“YOURE WHAT?!”
you hang up and hamzah laughs
you have a chair pulled up next to hamzah as you both sit and interact with the chat for a bit
you tell them multiple stories about your shopping trip and he suggests you give everyone a haul
you waste no time getting up to grab your bags from the bed and bring them over to his set up
as you go through and unfold various tops, bottoms, and dresses he adds plenty of commentary and “lemme see”s while holding them in front of his face
“this thing is not gonna cover your ass, are we serious???” he holds up a mini skirt with a laugh
and you grab it from him with a playful shake of your head, “i was gonna wear it for my other boyfriend anyway”
hamzah just stares at you with a smirk until you look back over to him, “what?!” you giggle.
“don’t play with me, girl” he smiles and leans back in his chair, “go ahead and show them the rest”
when you get to a particular dress you just about squeal, “h, you’re gonna looovvveee this one! i almost sent you a pic in the dressing room it’s so perfect.”
“show me, show me!” his eyes are wide now and his mouth spreads into a grin.
you reveal a soft, coconut white dress with leafy ruffles tied into roses (me when my describing skills shut down bc what does this even mean bruh)
“oh wow…” he looks from your glowy face to the dress held beside you and back. “can i see it on you?”
you nod your head, “yeah i took pics at the store,” you go to grab your phone.
he kisses his teeth, “now why would i wanna see some pics when i have you right here??”
you look up at him from your phone and begin to laugh under your breath. you look over to the monitor and your face gives away the joke you’re thinking of, “uh huh, okay. look someone said ‘the sassy man apocalypse has gone too far’” you point to the screen
hamzah looks for a second and then adds to the joke himself, “oh em gee, they’re saying ‘girl go put on that damn dress we wanna see already, with the rolling eye emoji!!!’” he covers his mouth as if he’s shocked, “are you really gonna take that bae??”
you try not to laugh at the pet name he uses, “hamzah whyd someone just say ‘take that fuck ass beanie off your head before you speak on a bad bitch, lil boy’?” you act just as shocked as him, “they’re some haters for real…”
hamzah deadpans and gives a side eye to the camera
“okay you can look now” you tell him and he slowly uncovers his eyes.
he immediately pretends to faint at the sight of you in the material that hugs you so perfectly
“oh fuck, my heart- it’s giving out, everything hurts. i can’t- breathe-!” he gives out a breathy monologue and you laugh at him before moving further away from the camera to give the viewers a better view
you turn around and ask them what they think all while hanzah fakes his death nearby
you eventually find a spot across his lap and tap his cheek telling him to be normal
“my bad my bad, i need to lock in.” he exaggerates a shake of his head
“you like it though?”
“of course i like it, look at you!!!!” he points at the both of you in the monitor
“good, i think ill wear it when we go to curaçao”
“that’ll be perfect- can you get up and do another twirl for me please? i missed it”
you pout but when he squeezes your thigh you get up and does as he asks
“guys isn’t she the prettiest??” he gushes
you blush in the form of a large smile and bend down away from him to grab another item to show off, to which he jokingly makes various sexual gestures and faces at your ass that is left pointed towards him
when you turn back around hamzah pretends to adjust a watch, which is actually just him hovering awkwardly over his wrist
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moonchild9350 · 3 months ago
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Still Life and Nude Surprises
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Summary: you need to prep for an art show and sign up for a class for extra practice. the model you’re assigned however turns out to be someone you know very well.
Pairing: best friend!Felix x fab!reader
Genre: friends to lovers au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: nude modeling, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mention of overstimulation, clit play, unprotected sex (don't), creampie, implied multiple rounds
Notes: another fic from when I was feral sorry not sorry lol this was fun to write though and it’s Felix so…. lol
If you enjoyed please consider a like, reblog, or comment as it keeps me motivated ♡
Divider by @cafekitsune
Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)
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"Hold still!"
You chastised the blonde who was at the moment wiggling around in his seat, his eyes focused on his computer screen as he blasted god knows what on the latest game he acquired.
"Y/n! Lemme just finish this round, then I'll do anything you say," he responded as he showed off his biggest pouty face.
You sighed, not being able to say no to that face. Felix smiled and went back to his game, his fingers tap tapping on the keyboard.
Felix is your best friend, he has been since you were neighbors as a kid. You've done everything together, from attending dances as each others dates, sleepovers as kids, endure heartbreaks, and even live within the same building as adults.
You couldn't live without him, your relationship going beyond your wildest dreams.
Now, you were trying to sketch your best friend as you were trying to improve your still life skills, preparing for an art show that you had signed up for. Everything was going well until he received a text from a gamer buddy, wanting to go for a round on a new game he recently started.
You set your sketch pad down and watched your friend as he scrunched his face in concentration, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he shot down enemy after enemy. It was pretty humorous to watch, as everytime he missed his target he'd scream "noooo!" before concentrating once more.
You knew it was a lost cause, understanding once he started gaming, it would be hours until he would stop. You gathered up your stuff, packing it into your bag.
You got up and walked over to Felix, ruffling up his hair, obscuring his view of the computer screen.
"Y/n!" he exclaimed as he blew his hair out of his face, the strands framing his face haphazardly as a result.
"I'm gonna go home, it's getting late. I"ll see you later ok?"
Felix took a chance and looked away from the screen to you, "I'm sorry, I'm a horrible model."
You chuckled and slapped his arm, the boy yelping at the sting. "No you're not, you just get distracted easily."
You continued to laugh as you walked to his door, listening to Felix mutter under his breath something along the lines of "that's not true."
Closing his door, you walked the few doors down to your apartment, dropping your bag on the hallway table. You really did want to practice your skills as the show was getting closer day by day and you were banking on using Felix to start.
You grabbed your laptop and plopped on the couch, propping your feet on the table in front of you. Opening up the search engine, you began to look for classes that you could attend to help you practice.
You came across a particularly promising site, the company offering a variety of classes from group sessions to private ones. You clicked on the private session info bar, as the prospect of it just being you and the model seemed appealing.
You noticed they offered private nude modeling sessions as well, your eyebrow raising in interest. This would be the perfect opportunity to study the human body and to improve your skills on drawing it.
The company had a few sessions open over the next few days which would be perfect as you were free. You clicked on the time slot for tomorrow's private session, your mind running over the pros and cons.
You've never sketched anyone nude, the prospect seeming a little embarrassing to you, but how would you get better if you didn't step out of your comfort zone? Plus, these models were trained for this, and it was with a reputable company.
The cost of the class wasn't much either, definitely within your budget. You filled in your information, whatever they asked for. Once done, your hand hovered over the book button, as you considered what to do.
"Fuck it," you said, bringing your finger down to press book.
A confirmation page popped up saying your session was successfully booked and they'd see you tomorrow. You let out a breath and closed your laptop.
This was really going to happen. You wondered if you'd have a male or female model, noticing there was no option to choose. Shaking your head, you decided not to think about the session until the time came, opting to go in with a fresh and unbiased mind.
You went about the rest of your night, prepping everything you would need for tomorrow. Settling into bed you pulled the covers up to your chin.
You were ready for tomorrow and whatever it were to bring.
--
It was a beautiful day, the sun shining, the weather warm but not too hot. The walk to the art studio wasn't too far away, the building being within walking distance.
You were giddy with excitement, your anxieties gone about the details of the session. You texted Felix to let him know you would be occupied today and would be over later on. He didn't mind as he apparently had something to do as well.
You approached a chic building, the outer walls appearing old yet charming to fit the town. You opened the door and walked in, met with the scent only an art studio can provide, from the scents of paints to fresh canvases. The scent of coffee drifted in the air as well, as there was a fresh pot that seemed to have been brewed in the corner of the reception area.
You approached the front desk, greeting the worker behind it.
"Hi, my name is y/n, I'm booked for a private session at 10:30?"
The lady looked in a book on the desk, her manicured fingers running down the page to the appointed time. She tapped her fingers on the page, finding your name as expected.
"We have you all set, would you like to pay now?"
You nodded and pulled out your card. She took care of the payment and then smiled.
"Have a seat, someone will be with you shortly to take you to the studio."
"Thank you," you said, walking towards a comfy looking chair in the corner.
You sat down, cradling your bag to your side. The atmosphere was quiet, the occasional sound of chatter meeting your ears. You watched as people walked to and from, their focus on getting to their destination.
Not long after sitting down, a young woman appeared calling your name. You hurriedly grabbed your bag and walked towards her.
"Ready?" she asked with a smile.
"Absolutely," you responded as you followed the lady down the hall.
She stopped at a door, the placard reading studio eight. It was more secluded than the other studios, the room being near the back of the hall. The lady opened the door and stepped in, you following right behind her.
As you crossed the threshold, you took in the surroundings of the room. It wasn't too small but not too big. The walls were covered with sketches and paintings, portraying various body types. Each painting was beautiful, the artist capturing the details of the human body in intricate detail.
There was a ceiling to floor mirror along one wall, the whole room visible in its reflection. In the center of the room, there was a chair next to a series of boxes, linen draped over it to make a makeshift bed. You eyed the stool next to an easel, which you assumed is where you would be sitting.
"So, this is where your session will take place. You have this space for four hours. If you need assistance of any sort, just press this button here and one of the staff members will assist you."
You followed her hand as she pointed to a blue button next to the door. You nodded and faced the lady again, waiting for her to continue.
"You have opted for a nude model for your session correct?"
"Yes, I have," you replied, feeling your cheeks flush at her question.
"They will enter after I leave. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you can ask them to robe again, they will not mind. I think that's all. Any questions?"
You shook your head no, as everything was pretty straight forward.
"Great! Go ahead and get settled, your model will be in shortly!"
You thanked the lady and walked over to the easel. Setting your bag down, you began to pull out your sketch book and various pencils, setting them up accordingly. You sat on the stool, crossing your legs as you waited for your model to arrive.
It didn't take long until a different door than you came in opened, a person stepping in within the room. It was a flurry of movement as they walked into the room with their head down.
"Sorry, I'm a little late," the person said in a deep voice.
Wait...you knew that voice. Shocked, your head snapped up to look more closely at the person. You couldn't believe it, that person was...
"Y/n?!"
"Felix?!"
Your model was Felix? Your best friend? What the fuck?!
You were confused and shocked. Felix seemed to be as well as he stared at you with his mouth wide open.
You eyed your friend who was prepped in a white robe, the material seeming soft and cozy on his skin. His long hair was in a ponytail, framed away from his face, his numerous freckles on display.
"What are you doing here?" you asked in disbelief.
"I could ask you the same thing," Felix responded as he came closer to you.
"I uh...I signed up for a class to work on my skills since you know..." you said, your voice trailing off at the end.
The atmosphere was tense, neither one of you knowing what to do. You never expected to see your best friend here, especially since he never mentioned he modeled for an art studio...nude at that.
Felix nodded at your response, "I work here as a side gig...make some extra cash you know?"
You nodded, accepting his answer.
"Why did you never tell me you did this?" you inquired, curiosity getting the best of you.
Felix fiddled with the strap of his robe, his gaze anywhere but yours. After a moment he cleared his throat.
"Well, I thought you'd find it weird. I mean I'm naked in front of people and they draw me in the nude. How would I bring that up with you?"
He had a point. That would definitely make for an interesting conversation. Now the question becomes do you go on with the session? Sketch your best friend nude? You could make him keep the robe on.
"Do you...do you still want to proceed with this?" Felix asked, his hands gesturing toward the makeshift bed in the center of the room.
"I'm ok if you are," you said shrugging.
Felix cleared his throat, surprised at your answer. Recovering quickly, he said, "Of course."
You nodded and watched as he padded toward the bed, stopping in front of it for a moment. His hands went to the strap of his robe, his fingers fiddling with the knot before he stopped.
"You ok with sketching me nude?"
"Yes Lix, I've seen you naked before."
You really have and with years of being best friends, it was bound to happen.
Felix nodded before he grasped the strap again, this time untying the knot.
You watched as the knot fell away, the straps now dangling at his side. He brought his hands up, to grab the soft material and slide it off his shoulders. With a flurry of movement, he let the robe fall, the fabric pooling at his feet.
You gasped, your eyes glued to your best friend as he stood in the center of the room, his back to you. Taking the chance, your eyes roamed his back, taking in his muscular frame, down to his lithe waist, which you've always admired. You smirked at seeing his ass wanting to reach out and smack it.
Felix took a deep breath and slowly turned around to face you. You watched with bated breath as he now stood facing you, his eyes on yours.
Your eyes drifted down his torso, eyeing his nipples, the pinkish-brown buds perky in the cold room. You eyed him further down, down, down until you came to his pelvis, a happy trail of hair leading down to his cock.
You subconsciously licked your lips, your eyes glued to his soft cock lying amongst a smattering of hair, his balls hanging nice and delicate. You couldn't help but admire his cock, wondering how it would feel in your hands, how it would feel...
"Earth to y/n! My eyes are up here pervert!" Felix exclaimed while snapping his fingers to get your attention.
You snapped your eyes up to his face, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You definitely were just checking out your best friend, the feeling in your panties a little more wet than when you came in.
You cleared your throat and gestured toward the bed, "Umm, wanna get started?"
Felix nodded, "How do you want me?"
"You can just lounge on the bed for now."
Felix nodded again and sat on the bed, swinging his legs up to rest on the linens. You walked over to your best friend and stopped in front of him, your hands reached out. You hesitated for a moment, looking into his eyes asking silent permission to touch him.
"Go ahead, position me how you want," Felix chuckled.
You took his hand in yours and draped it across his face, his fingers dangling delicately on the side of his cheeks. You angled his head to look toward where you would be sitting. You looked at his legs, taking a breath before propping one of his legs up.
Once finished, you quickly took a step back, eyeing your work. Satisfied, you sat down on your stool and grabbed your sketch book.
You picked up a pencil and began to sketch, easily getting lost in your work. You looked up at Felix every now and then, to get some details solidified in your head before you translated it onto paper.
It was silent in the room, neither one of you speaking. It was not as awkward as you thought it would be, but rather comforting.
Time passed and you got more of your sketch done, the outline being nearly complete.
Felix was staring at you, watching your hands dance across the page, sketching his frame. He couldn't take his eyes off of you, admiring how you got lost in your work, that not even your best friend posing naked for you can distract you.
He loved how you let out a small smile when you got a detail just right or how you scrunched up your face and bit your lip when something did not seem right.
You were beautiful, that he couldn't deny and you were even more beautiful in this moment, sitting on a stool in an art studio underneath the dim lights.
Felix started to feel warm, despite laying right under the air conditioner, the feeling spreading down his belly and settling at his cock. He could feel the blood slowly fill out his cock, the appendage slightly harder than before, laying haphazardly against his pelvis.
He willed himself to breath, to cool down, not wanting you to see the effect you have on him. He could never live that down. He tried to look everywhere but your face, especially when your head was down. But to no avail, the feeling increased, his cock twitching slightly in response.
You looked up at your friend to get another look at his torso for shading the area on your sketch, but froze at what you saw. Felix seemed to be in turmoil, his breath shaky, his eyes darting everywhere around the room.
Your eyes traveled to his cock, noticing how it seemed to have hardened some since you last took a look at him. You thought you would feel embarrassed, however, you felt quite the opposite.
You lingered on his cock a little longer, a a pleasurable shock traveling down your body and straight to your core. You pressed your thighs together in response, feeling your slick slowly seep into your panties.
You cleared your throat and went back to your sketch, not wanting Felix to catch you staring, not let him know that you were aware he was hard while you sketched him.
Felix was turned on, that was the brunt of it. He tried to stop his reaction to you, but he just couldn't do it. He felt his cock hardened until it stood fully at attention, the tip pressing up against his pelvis.
It was torture laying there, only a few feet away from you, his cock so hard it was starting to hurt. He wanted to touch himself, relieve the ache, and maybe just maybe you could help him out too.
He watched as you lifted your head up once more, gasping at the state of him.
You were in shock, noticing now that Felix's cock was fully hard, the member seeming angry and red at the lack of attention it received. You could see something shiny glistening on the hairs littering his pelvis. You watched as a drop of pre-cum oozed from his tip, the liquid dripping down his shaft until it reached the hairs, getting caught in the thickness.
Looking at Felix's face, you could tell he was miserable, as he breathing was shallow and he was clenching and unclenching his hands. You knew he wanted to touch himself to relieve himself of the ache he was feeling.
"Felix?" you questioned, your eyes reaching his. "Do you wanna touch yourself?"
Felix's eyes widened at the question, disbelief written on his face.
"I'm..I'm sorry y/n, I just couldn't help it," he stuttered, lowering his eyes in embarrassment.
"It's ok," you responded with a smile. "You can touch yourself, make yourself feel good. I'll continue to sketch."
Felix stared at you for a moment more before he took his other hand that was at his side and placed it on his chest.
You watched as he gripped his aching cock and gave it a squeeze as he moaned lowly. He shifted his hand upwards, his thumb pressing on his slit before gathering up some of the leaking pre-cum.
He began to stroke his cock, steady but slowly, his fist reaching the base just to travel back up and circle around the head. Felix kept eye contact with you, your sketching forgotten, as you took to watching your best friend pleasure himself.
He increased the speed of his wrist movement, wet sounds from the aid of his precum filling the room. With each moan he let out, you felt your pussy clench over nothing. You were soaking wet, your panties stuck to your skin by now, your clit throbbing to be touched.
"Y/n," Felix said, his voice raspy as he continued to stroke his cock. "Can you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself for me?"
You looked into Felix's pleading eyes, watching as he licked his lips and swallowed. You didn't give a moments thought at your friend's request, instead ridding yourself of your leggings.
You stood before Felix, your fingers going to the band of your panties. You watched Felix's eyes drag to the piece of cloth, his eyes widening at the wet patch present on your panties, the material sticking to your skin, leaving nothing to the imagination as the outline of your lips could be seen.
You slowly slid your panties down your legs and set them aside. Felix let out a groan at the sight of your pussy, his cock twitching in his hand.
You sat back down on the stool and spread your legs, your wet folds separating to show him your entrance. He kept his eyes glued to your pussy as you brought a finger to your clit, flicking the bud and the rubbing it gently.
You sighed out as you dipped a finger lower into your hole, gathering your slick that was pooling there before bringing it back to your clit. You circled it gently, applying the slightest pressure, a jolt of pleasure causing your pussy to clench.
Time passed as you both sat there, eyes on each other as you pleasured yourself, the room filled with wet sounds and the mix of both of your moans.
You matched Felix's pace as he stroked his cock, harder and faster, his hips bucking up into his hands. You let out a whimper as you felt the tightening within your belly, the coil tightening, filling your core with warmth.
"Felix, m'close," you moaned as your fingers slipped and slid around your clit, your pussy getting wetter by the minute.
"Yeah? Cum for me? Will you cum for me like a good girl?" Felix cooed. "I'm close too, fuck."
Your breathing increased as the coil expanded in your belly, the feeling getting larger and larger until you tipped over the edge, your walls spasming, clenching down rhythmically as you rode out your high.
You didn't stop rubbing your clit, watching as Felix let out a groan as he bucked his hips, spurts of cum landing on his belly creating a painting with its pearly white sheen.
You pulled your hand away, the feeling of overstimulation settling in. You looked at your best friend, both of you breathing hard as you came down from your highs.
You chuckled as you noticed Felix was pretty much in the same position you put him in, his resolve at staying true to his role admirable.
"You um...you can keep sketching if you'd like," Felix said, his voice soft with uncertainty.
"We literally just got off together and you want me to continue sketching?" you asked incredulously as you cocked your eyebrow.
Felix cleared his throat, his body slighly shifting on the makeshift bed causing his softened cock to jiggle.
"Well...yeah, you paid and all..."
You stared at your best friend in disbelief. You hated that he had a point, you did pay a pretty sum to be here today. But here you were, nude from the waist down, your nether region a mess. You sighed and picked up your pencil, moving your hand to start sketching again.
There was silence once more as you got into the zone, focusing on shading in your sketch. You began to hum to yourself, adjusting yourself sligthly on the stool.
Felix returned to staring at you, watching you get lost in your work. He tried not to remember that you were naked waist down, your pussy seconds away from being on display if you decided to open your legs.
The thought caused arousal to seep through his body once more. He cursed silently as he felt his cock twitch. Why does he have to be turned on by you? He's never had this reaction before for any other client.
Maybe it was because they were strangers, people he didn't know, while you were his best friend, his life line.
He couldn't help it as his thoughts wandered, wondering how you would feel wrapped around him. He wondered how you would sound as he pounded into you, making you feel better than any of your little flings ever could.
He peeked down to look at his lower half as he silently groaned noticing his cock was fully hardened, resting against his belly once more.
You looked up to gather reference and noticed Felix's cock was hard, more of his precum leaking out and onto his belly. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight as your tongue darted out and licked your lips.
"Fuck this," you said, tossing your sketch book to the side.
You stood up and walked towards Felix, lifting your shirt up and over your head in the process. You unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor, your tits spilling out and on view for your friend.
Felix scrambled up quickly and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you toward him until you stood right in front of his face. He grasped your waist and smashed his lips to yours, letting out a moan as your lips moved with his.
Your hand reached down to grasp his cock, giving it a squeeze. Felix moaned against your lips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.
"Can I fuck you y/n?" Felix asked with hope in his eyes.
You've both come this far, why stop now you thought.
"Sure," you agreed as more arousal gushed out of your pussy and onto your thighs at the thought of his cock filling you up.
Felix helped maneuver you onto the makeshift bed as he hovered above you. He spread your legs and pushed them upwards, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy, your slick coating your folds and dripping down your ass.
He brought his thumb down to press against your swollen clit that was peeking through your folds. You let out a whine at the sensation, your pussy clenching around nothing.
"I've waited for this moment for a long time y/n," Felix said, his eyes lifting up to your face.
"Me too," you confessed, your heart swelling at the thought that you both have liked each other probably for years.
He really was your person, your everything, and you would love nothing more than to give yourself fully to him.
Felix smiled down at you before swiping his finger over your clit again, watching as you wiggled your hips at his touch.
"I'm gonna give you my cock now," he grunted, grasping the appendage at the base.
He rubbed his cock through your folds, collecting your slick before pressing against your entrance, his eyes glued to how his head disappeared within your hole.
You mewled as he withdrew his cock just to press into your entrance again as he fucked you with just the tip.
"Felix, please," you whimpered, holding your legs open even more.
"Want my cock hm?" Felix asked, his eyes on yours. He watched as your mouth hung open, soft moans falling out as he teased you, spreading your folds open with just his head.
He was faring no better as he felt a shutter run through him, every time he sunk his tip within your warmth.
"Fuck me," you commanded, your eyes snapping open and staring Felix down.
You reached for his cock, your hand wrapping around the shaft. You wiggled your hips attempting to take more of his cock, ignoring how Felix was laughing at you.
"Ok, ok, don't get your panties in a twist," Felix chuckled. "Oh wait, you lost those hours ago, so desperate for my cock y/n."
Without any other warning, he slammed his hips into yours with a groan, sinking his length within your walls until bottomed out.
"Fuck, so warm and tight," he grunted as he began to thrust his hips into yours, withdrawing his cock just until he was all the way out and pushing back in.
You pussy clenched around him, the feeling of his cock stretching you out causing waves of pleasure to settle in your pelvis.
Felix grasped your legs, pushing them further to your chest as he pummeled his hips to yours, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He couldn't believe how tight you were, how your walls molded around his cock perfectly, like you were made for him.
His moans mingled with yours, as you both chased your highs. Felix licked his fingers and brought them back down to your clit, the digits slipping and sliding along the nub, causing shocks of pleasure to wreck your frame.
"Shit, I'm close, gonna cum. Can I come inside?" Felix panted, his thrusts becoming more erratic.
"Please, need your cum!" you whimpered as your pussy contracted at the thought of his cum within you.
Felix slammed his hips into yours once more before stilling, ropes of his cum flooding your walls.
"That's it, take my cum," Felix cooed as he continued to finger your clit.
You let out a loud moan as you came, your arousal seeping out of your pussy, coating Felix's cock as he thrusted his hips into yours a few more times to help you ride out your high.
Felix peered down at you, his eyes searching yours as you panted, your hands running down your body. He slowly withdrew his softening cock, his eyes glued to how his cum leaked out of your pussy, a smile gracing his face.
He leaned down to press a kiss on your lips once more as he whispered "I love you."
You carded your fingers through his hair, eagerly returning the kiss.
"And I love you Felix," you cooed.
You both laid there a little longer, exchanging soft kisses, neither one of you in a rush to move.
After a while, Felix perked up, mischief in his eyes.
"Wanna keep sketching? You still have another hour."
You smirked at the suggestion, knowing exactly where it will lead, and that was definitely ok with you.
"Sure thing, let's go for another round," you teased with a grin.
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Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght
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crookedteethed · 11 months ago
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BIG SHOT polaroid | e.m.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader
Summary: In which you and Eddie have a picture book where you both store your sex pics. <3 💕
Warnings: 18+ Cursing, a little Smut (p in v), Oral (fem receiving), Praise kink, body worship(?), pet names, nudes
Word count: 1k
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If you pushed past the mounds of dirty laundry intertwined with disposed candy bar wrappers and a few empty shoe boxes, underneath Eddie Munson's bed lies the picture book. 
The picture book was your idea, but the pictures themselves were all Eddie's perverted idea. 
"Lemme take a picture of you, yeah?" Eddie said, taking a break from his delicious never-ending assault on your clit. Your juices dripped down his chin, some droplets stringing the tips of his hair, his lips all red and puffy covered in slick, and his eyes a little crazed and tinted in admiration. 
He kissed the supple plush of your thigh in a diagonal line; your hands stayed grazing his curls, body supine on the foam of Eddie's mattress. Eddie's lips make love to your thighs, to your tummy, from your breast to your neck, and eventually to your lips; where'd you gotten to taste yourself for the first time.
Eddie quotes Shakespeare. "Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry. Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." He says, glossy lips forming a smile.
"Lemme get a picture of you.” He asks again. “I want to savor my pretty girl in this moment," he says with that boyish smile and those adoring chocolate eyes.
Fuck, those eyes. Even if you were thinking of saying 'no' to Eddie, you simply couldn't. It was the way Eddie's eyes gazed at you every time you made contact. It was as if he was put into a dreamlike trance.
If Eddie had been a cartoon, his eyes and pupils would have turned heart-shaped.
You agreed to the picture, but just one.
Eddie sprung up from the bed, his naked pale body sprinting around the smallish trailer.
You hear a few thuds and ruffling coming from the next room. You imagine Eddie tearing his home apart to find his Polaroid camera.
When Eddie comes back, he returns holding a big-shot Polaroid. He says it was his mother's. He and Wayne don't use it often, so there should be enough film on it.
You try to sit up as Eddie crawls onto the bed, but he lightly pushes you back down, telling you you shouldn't have to move a finger, lie back, and be his muse.
You felt an uneasiness plummet in your stomach as you felt the cold lens of Eddie's mother polaroid aimed at your cunt; it was similar to the feeling you get when your doctor has to check beneath your folds for any signs of ovarian cysts or cancers at your yearly checkups.
And though Eddie had seen your bare cunt a multitude of times (just like your doctor), this particular time made your body shutter. Just as Eddie goes to snap the picture, he notices your sudden twitchiness.
"Hey," he says, palming the plum of your cheek. He lightly pecks your lips. "You trust me, right?"
You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip; of course, you trusted Eddie.
"Good." He nearly mumbles, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.
Eddie resume.
The Polaroid covers half of Eddie's face. With his right eye peeking through the eyepiece and his left eye squeezed tightly, Eddie aims the lens close to your cunt.
He places his thumb onto one of your folds and pulls back on the skin, snapping the picture in one snap. Seconds later, the blackened photo ejects from underneath the film shield.
With a few anticipated shakes from Eddie, the photo started to fade in, and you and Eddie stared at it with wide bug eyes and gaping mouths.
It wasn't the fact that Eddie could date back to this photo and jack off to it later that turned him on. Eddie was turned on because you let him do it; it turned him on even more that you trusted him to do it.
It turned you on because there was something obscure about seeing another aspect of your body, other than your face, on a Polaroid picture. In a way, you felt like you were Eddie's personal playboy bunny.
"Can I take another one?" Eddie asked in a daze, just as you went to ask him to take another, and then another, and then another, until you eventually ran out of film.
Taking pictures of you and Eddie's naked bodies would become almost like an addiction to both of you.
It became a ritualistic practice for you two before sex, grabbing the Polaroid (which now rested on Eddie's bedside table, along with packs of film) and taking turns snapping pictures of one another mid fuck.
Eddie would take the Polaroid from you and snap a picture of his cock plunging into your tight wet cunt; once he has his picture, then you'll take the Polaroid and snap a photo of your foot pressed against his pelvis, just above his happy trail. The cycle would go on and on until you were both covered in Polaroid pictures and cum.
It gets to a point where Eddie's bedside dresser, the current home for your photos, gets filled up, and you both have to resort to putting your photos in a picture book.
Making the picture book would be fun for both of you. You would sit on the trailer's living room floor, surrounded by glue, glitter, and markers; it's like a little arts and crafts project.
It'd be nostalgic for you and Eddie to return to your first photos all those months ago until now.
Eddie gets that gooey mushy feeling, getting wrapped up in the trust and intimacy of the photos--love, he thinks the feeling is called-- watching you watch a picture of yourself with a mouthful of his cock, and scrapbooking secret photos preserved for just his and your eyes only.
Eddie wants to tell you he loves you but doesn't yet; now isn't the right time. So he runs to his room, returning with his mother's big-shot Polaroid camera, and takes a snapshot of you.
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sturniqlo · 7 months ago
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PIERCINGS- CHRIS STURN
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summary: y/n has a surprise for chris which leads to something... more. BLURB
cw: cursing, SMUT; titty fucking, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), making out, creampie, hickies, oral!male, cum eating, fingering
an: looks like this concept won the poll but for the people who voted for the matt one, i WILL eventually post it @sturnluvs - wanted to be tagged (if u ever want to be tagged just comment)
masterlist
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"Hi, baby." Y/n walks through the door, making herself known to Chris. She can't help but bite her lip to suppress an excited smile. "Hi, babe. Missed you today. Had fun with your friends?" He walks through the foyer, seeing her taking her shoes off. "So much fun." She leans up to press her lips to his. He puts his hand on the small of her back and he bends forward slightly, making her arch her back. "I have a surprise for you." She murmurs against his lips. "Yeah?" He smirks. She hums.
After a couple more seconds of kissing they break the kiss. "Go sit on the bed." She ruffles his hair. "Okay, I like where this is going." Chris jokes, looking back as Y/n follows behind. "You're annoying." She laughs as she pushes his shoulders into the bedroom.
Chris follows past instructions and sits on the edge of the bed with her arms behind him. As she closes the door, she crosses her arms across her chest and walks towards her. "Close your eyes, baby." She whispers. "Okay." He closes his eyes and smirks. Y/n places each leg on either side of Chris' lap. "I'm loving your surprise so far." He starts to feel himself grow hard in his sweats. He pushes himself forward, eyes still closed, and puts his hands on her exposed torso. "You're about to love it even more I hope." She gets situated on his lap and reaches to the bottom of her shirt and carefully pulls it off.
"Fuck, did you take your shirt off?" Chris is definitely hard by now, and he fights the urge to take a peek. "Maybe." She says in a singsong tone. The cold wind hits her nipples making them pebble. She looks down, and sees that they look even better with a small silver bar between her nipples. She also catches a wet patch on Chris' grey sweats. "You're not wearing boxers?" He shakes his head. "Can I open my eyes now?" He asks. "Okay, go ahead."
Chris opens his eyes and is met with the sight of Y/n's tits in his face but, there's something decorating them. She got her nipples pierced. "Holy shit, babe." He moans at the sight and his dick gets even harder if that's even possible. "You like 'em?"She says. "Do I like them? Baby, I fucking love them. Oh my god." He slides his hands up to cup under each of her breasts. "Can I touch?" She nods. "Be gentle, they're a bit sore if there's too much pressure directly on them."
Chris gently swirls his finger across her left nipple and is in awe of her. "So pretty." He mumbles. Chris' gently puckers his lips and replaces his finger with his lips, leaving feather like kisses on her pebbled nipple. "Fuck, Chris." She whines. Her nipples even more sensitive. She feels her panties start to grow a wet patch. "Feels even better? Hm?" She nods and sighs with pleasure. Chris moves onto her right nipple, giving it the same attention.
Y/n slides her hand down to his bulge and squeezes. "You're so hard, baby." She gasps. Chris detaches himself from her and she lifts off his lap so she can tug his pants down. His cock springs out, his tip a bright pink leaking with pre-cum. "Can I?" He nods. She goes in her knees, and Chris scoots closer to the edge. Y/n grabs his dick. Spitting directly on it and watches it as it dibbles down, mixing with the milky liquid. "Please, baby." He whimpers. She kitten licks his tip before wrapping her mouth around his leaky tip. "Fuck, just like that." Chris grabs her hair and wraps it around his hand tugging gently.
She goes lower, taking as much as she can as tears fill her eyes from the pressure. "Doin' so good, lemme see my surprise, hm?" He pulls her hair so her mouth pops off. Instead, she pumps him in her hands as she arches her back. "You wanna fuck 'em?" He immediately nods. "Yes, yes, yes." He groans. "Go ahead, baby." Y/n says, pushing her chest forward, fixing her posture. Chris puts it cock in between here tits and Y/n gently squeezes them together. He start thrusting his hips forward and back.
"Holy fuck. Swear your tits were made for me." He throws his head back, moaning. "Yeah, you like fucking my tits?" She says, clenching her thighs together at the sight of a blissed out Chris. "Fucking love it." He moans. "Shit, squeeze me hard. M' almost there." She squeezes her tits hard together, loving the ache that comes with it. "Cum for me, Chris. Make a mess on me." With her words, he comes undone. "Holy- I'm cumming- fuck!" His cum paints her chest, she sticks her tongue out to catch any that lands on her face.
Chris, still semi-hard, throws himself back on the bed to try and catch his breath. Y/n gets up from her knees and unbuttons her jeans shorts and slides them down along with her thong. She climbs on his lap and leans over him. "That was hot." She says as Chris places his hands on her bare ass. He groans at the fact that she has taken her bottoms off. "Can I clean you up?" His eyes direct down to the cum on her collarbones and cleavage.
"Please do." She plants a kiss on his lips. They continue making out for a couple a minutes before Chris rolls them over without breaking the kiss and he's hovering over her. Disconnecting his lips from hers, she whines, Chris discards of his shirt before placing his lips back on hers. He breaks the kiss with biting her lip lightly and kissing down her jaw, to her neck, and licking his cum off of her. "Let me have a taste?" She pleads. Chris smirks, getting a finger and dragging it along a spurt of cum that landed where her boob starts. "Open up, ma." She sticks her tongue out, Chris placing his finger directly on her tongue, she closes her mouth around his finger and swirls her tongue around it, sucking on it here and there.
"Good girl." She lets go of his finger. He groans, going back to her neck. Kissing, sucking, biting. He leave a couple of hickies along her neck and on top of her tits. He loves seeing her littered with lovebites that he did and only he can see. "Want me to fuck your pretty pussy?" He whispers. Dragging a finger down her torso, stopping on top of her mound. "Yes, please, baby." She lifts her hips forward and his finger goes to her clit and she moans. "So greedy." He bits her neck. Rubbing her clit, she's a whimpering mess under him. "Let me stretch you first, yeah?" She nods fastly and he laughs. He drags his fingers down her slit and slowly pushes his finger in.
"Chris, oh my gosh." He slowly pulls his finger back and pushes it back in. "Want another?" He makes eye contact with her. Her eyes glosses over in pleasure and her cheeks a light shade of pink. "Yes, give me more." She whines. Chris wastes no time in inserting in middle finger. "Oh." She moans. "So wet, just for me right?" He continues to thrust his fingers in and out of her. The sound of her wetness makes his tip leak. "All for you. Just you, Chris." She brings her hand to the back of his head and kisses him and he fingers her.
Scissoring his fingers in her, makes her come closer to her orgasm. "Chris, I'm close. I want to cum on your cock." She pushes his hand away. Chris brings his hand up to his mouth and sucks his two fingers clean. Moaning at the taste of her arousal. "Ready?" He asks, as he lines his hard cock with her wet entrance. "Yes, so ready." He slowly pushes in until he bottoms out. "Oh shit." He pulls out until only his tip is inside of her. He slams his hips against her and they both moan loudly. "Fuck, Chris." As Chris thrusts his hips against her rapidly, he looks down to her tits and sees them bouncing, the shine of the bars between her nipples making him chase his orgasm faster.
"Fuck, babe. Look at your tits. So pretty." He brings a hand up and gently squeezes it. Y/n moans. "I'm so close." She feels the pressure in her lower belly. "Come for me, Y/n. Fucking wet my cock." He continues fucking her fast, his eyes looking up to her eyes and back down to her tits.
"I'm cumming, fuck- shit." She yells, baby hairs sticking to her forehead. Cheeks now a bright pink. "Fuck, I'm almost there." Chris groans, feeling her orgasm wetting his cock even more. "Shit, where do you want me to cum?" He says, out of breath. "Inside of me. Fill me up." She arches her back as she starts to feel sensitive. "Holy sh- I'm cumming. Fuck, fuck, fuck." He cums inside of her. Riding out his high.
Chris slowly pulls out, seeing the mixture of both of their cums leaking out of her. "Look that that, my god." He moans. Chris lazily lays down next to her. "I'm taking you like my new piercings?" She laughs. "Just a bit." He makes them laugh even more.
"Can I fuck them again?"
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luvleyshif4 · 1 month ago
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for the arranged marriage i sort of pictured to be when cameron development isn’t doing as well and it’s sort of a hail mary for the camerons. like reader comes from a family where her parents have passed she lives with her grandfather( who is a kook and very traditional). readers family is really interested in marrying the camerons for social currency where the cameron’s sort of need it for like stability b/c the public doesn’t know the company isn’t doing as well. idk if this makes sense i feel like i’m just rambling 😭
HAIL MARY
Rafe Cameron x Reader
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Warnings: Arranged marriage trope, Power dynamics, Mild alcohol use, Family expectations, Parental pressure, miscommunication, slight angst to fluff
Word Count: 1.74k words
Authors Note: HEYY!! bb you’re not rambling at all I instantly understood what you wanted but it still took me a while cause this was kinda new and different for me to write so if it’s not up to your expectations please lemme know!! I tried my best to bring your idea to life and I tried to keep it as a one shot but lemme know if yall want a part 2 and how yall want it to be 😘😘
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The wedding was perfect on the surface. Gilded edges on the invitation cards, a floral arrangement that screamed wealth, and guests dressed to the nines.
Your grandfather beamed with pride, his weathered hands gripping your arm as he walked you down the aisle. Rafe stood at the altar, his expression unreadable, though his posture was impeccable. He looked good in his tailored suit—too good. The kind of good that made you resent him a little, because he seemed untouched by the weight of what this marriage meant.
To the guests, this was a union of two prestigious Kook families. But you and Rafe knew the truth. Cameron Development needed the stability your family’s name could bring, and your grandfather sought to tie your future to theirs in a calculated move for relevance.
As you recited your vows, your voice steady despite the storm inside you, Rafe’s gaze met yours. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw something—hesitation, vulnerability, or maybe even guilt.
But then it was gone, replaced by the practiced charm of a man who knew how to play his part.
When the officiant pronounced you husband and wife, Rafe leaned in, brushing a featherlight kiss on your cheek instead of your lips.
Polite. Distant. Just enough to make the crowd cheer.
~~~
You awoke the next morning to sunlight streaming through the massive windows of the Cameron estate. The bed was cold beside you; Rafe hadn’t spent the night.
Not that you expected him to.
You sighed, slipping out of bed and wrapping a silk robe around yourself. The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that felt oppressive. You padded down to the kitchen, where Rose was already bustling about, her morning routine as polished as ever.
“Oh, good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted, her smile a little too bright. “How was your first night?”
You hesitated, not wanting to admit that it had been lonely. “It was fine,” you said instead, grabbing a glass of water.
Before Rose could probe further, Rafe strolled in, looking effortlessly put-together despite the early hour.
“Sleep well?” he asked, his tone light but devoid of real interest as he turned to you.
“Like a dream,” you replied dryly.
Rafe smirked, clearly catching your sarcasm. But instead of biting back, he gestured toward the doorway. “Walk with me?”
~~~
The two of you wandered down to the beach, the ocean breeze ruffling Rafe’s perfectly styled hair. You stayed a step behind him, unsure what this was supposed to be.
“So,” he began, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You hate this as much as I do?”
You blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. “I wouldn’t say I hate it,” you replied carefully. “But it’s not exactly what I imagined for my life.”
Rafe nodded, kicking at a pebble. “Yeah, me neither.”
For a moment, the only sound was the crash of waves against the shore.
“Look,” Rafe said finally, turning to face you. “I know this isn’t ideal, but we’re stuck with it. So, maybe we should try to make it… less miserable?”
You crossed your arms, eyeing him skeptically. “How do you suggest we do that?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, shrugging. “We could start by not pretending to hate each other.”
You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t hate you, Rafe. I just don’t know you.”
His smirk faltered, and for once, he looked almost vulnerable. “Fair enough,” he said. “Guess we’ll have to fix that.”
~~~
Over the next few days, Rafe made an effort—or at least, he pretended to. He showed up to meals on time, asked you about your day, and even cracked a few jokes that made you laugh despite yourself.
But it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Rafe’s temper flared at the smallest things—a missed call from his dad, a deal that fell through—and you quickly learned to give him space when he needed it.
One evening, after yet another tense family dinner, you found him in the study, nursing a glass of whiskey.
“You know,” you said, leaning against the doorway, “if you keep brooding like that, people might think you actually care about something.”
Rafe looked up, his lips curving into a tired smile. “Funny.”
You stepped inside, sitting across from him. “Seriously, though. What’s wrong?”
He hesitated, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Just… the usual. My dad breathing down my neck, trying to keep everything from falling apart.”
You frowned. “You mean the company?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he didn’t answer. But his silence said enough.
“I’m not blind, Rafe,” you said softly. “I know why this marriage happened.”
He looked at you then, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “And you’re okay with that?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know if ‘okay’ is the right word. But I understand it.”
Rafe leaned back, studying you. “You’re not what I expected.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”
“Someone like my dad,” he admitted. “Cold, calculating. All business.”
You smiled faintly. “Well, sorry to disappoint.”
“Don’t be,” he said with a smile matching yours, his voice quieter. “It’s a good thing.”
~~~
The gala had been like every other event since your marriage, carefully orchestrated, polite smiles, and an unspoken agreement to keep up appearances. You played the part of the poised wife, and Rafe was the picture of composed charm. But tonight, something felt different. He was quieter, more distracted, his usual effortless confidence replaced with something… uncertain.
When the evening finally ended, Rafe lingered near the doorway as you said goodbye to the last guests. His gaze followed you, his jaw tight. You caught it in your periphery, but before you could ask, he motioned toward the garden.
“Come with me,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual edge.
You hesitated only for a moment before following him into the cool night air. The garden was bathed in soft moonlight, the distant sound of waves blending with the gentle rustle of leaves. It felt like a world away from the ballroom.
Rafe stopped abruptly, shoving his hands into his pockets. He glanced at you, then quickly looked away, as though second-guessing why he’d brought you out here in the first place.
“What is it?” you asked, stepping closer, your arms brushing against each other.
For a moment, he didn’t answer. His gaze flicked to the ground, then back to you. “I don’t really know,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I just… I needed to talk to you.”
“Okay,” you said gently, your heart fluttering at the vulnerability in his tone. “About what?”
He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “About us.”
The words hung between you, their weight undeniable.
“What about us?” you asked, your voice soft but steady.
“I don’t know,” he repeated, his shoulders tense. “This thing we have… this marriage… it’s not what I thought it’d be.” His voice wavered, the confidence you’d always associated with him nowhere to be found. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.” He said for the second time in your marriage.
“You already said that though,” you murmured, your voice steady.
“I know, I just…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as if searching for words that wouldn’t come. Silence hung between you, heavy and unfamiliar, until he finally exhaled sharply and looked away.
You tilted your head, studying him. “Well is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You said after a while.
“I think it’s a good thing,” he murmured, his eyes darting to yours before quickly looking away. “But it’s confusing….. You make me feel things I don’t know how to handle…. And I…i think about you more than I should. About us. What we are. What we could be.”
Your breath hitched. His honesty, his hesitance—it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen from him. Slowly, you took a step closer, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Rafe….”
He laughed softly, a self-deprecating sound. “I don’t have any answers,” he admitted, his hand twitching at his side.
You reached out, your fingers brushing his arm, grounding him. “Then don’t overthink it,” you said.
Rafe’s gaze dropped to where your hand lingered, then back to your face. His eyes softened, and for a moment, he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. He opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated.
“What?” you asked, stepping even closer.
He swallowed, his voice tentative, almost shy. “I want to…. Can I….” He said as his gaze fell on your lips….
As hesitant as he might have seemed, he sent your heart racing. You stared at him, his expression almost boyish in its uncertainty, and something in you broke.
“Please….” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of all the feelings you hadn’t caught on to yet, or hadn’t dared to name until now.
That one word was all it took. The hesitation melted from his face, replaced with something deeper, something more certain. His hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in.
The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like he was still testing the waters. But as you kissed him back, all the tension, all the uncertainty, seemed to dissolve. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened, taking on a desperate, unspoken intensity.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his lips hovered just a breath away. His hand still cradled your face, his thumb tracing soft patterns on your cheek.
“Was that okay?” he asked, his voice rough and uncertain again, though his lips quirked in a small, nervous smile.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head in disbelief. “More than okay,” you murmured, your fingers curling into the fabric of his blazer.
Rafe exhaled a laugh of his own, his tension finally breaking. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with something raw and unspoken.
“Wanna try again?” he asked, his voice quieter now, his smile more sure.
Your heart fluttered as you nodded with a shy smile.
“Please,” you said again, and this time, the word carried no hesitation.
He didn’t wait this time, capturing your lips with his again, and the kiss felt like a promise—a quiet, unspoken vow that things between you would never be the same.
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queenpiranhadon · 5 months ago
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"Oh god, what did ya do now?"
"Your sarcasm is the last thing I need right now, Ryo."
Though he wasn't being sarcastic in the slightest, Sukuna can tell you're in a bad mood.
And if your snappiness wasn't proof of that, it would definitely be the swollen lip and bloody knuckles.
"The fuck did you do, woman?" he stares, shocked. You weren't one for fights, or violence of any sort for that matter, so to see you like this was so... jarring.
Though you don't seem hurt angry just pissed off angry.
So when you plop down on your bed, Sukuna sits next to you, his hulking form basically dwarfing yours as you both sit on the bed in silence.
After a while, he breaks it.
"....Did ya least win?"
You roll your eyes and scoff. "Having a star football player for a boyfriend and losing a fight would be pathetic of me. Of course I did."
Sukuna grins, ruffling your hair proudly. "Attagirl."
Then he frowns, watching as you wince while gingerly flexing your hands.
"Wait here." he says gruffly, and you blink up at him in surprise, watching him retreat into the bathroom and come out with a first aid kit.
"Ryo...?"
"Just keep still and lemme help ya. Once I finish bandaging ya up, I'll getcha some ice for yer lip and we can email your professors that you can't do as much writin' or typin' for a while."
You stare at him dumbfounded, watching as he gently starts cleaning your bruised and bloodied hands, hissing at the alcohol stings, but Sukuna just kisses you all over your face as a distraction.
"Shh...almost done baby...see? Wasn't so bad." he murmurs, reaching over to grab the bandages and starts to wrap your hands gently, kissing your knuckles softly before moving over to the other one.
Once he finishes up, he brings you some ice for your lip as promised and emails all your professors for you.
With all of that out of the way, you cuddle up on your bed, watching some random movie you found on Netflix.
"Hey. Baby."
You hum, letting him know he has your attention.
"The fuck happened that gotcha so messed up in the first place?"
You let out a low breath at that and chuckle awkwardly, recounting the event in your head. "About that..."
"Fuckin' talk, woman." he groans, exasperated.
"Some random girls were slipping love letters in your locker." You sigh, looking away, embarrassed. "I just got a little annoyed is all."
Sukuna raises an eyebrow. "Seemed a little more than annoyed, babe."
You groan, hiding your face in his chest. "Okay, so I got a little mad. It's not like I immediately started punching her though!"
Sukuna grins teasingly, laughing as he wraps arm around you and flicks your forehead. "Looks like my girl's a little possessive, yeah?"
You glare at him and punch his chest with the side of your fist lightly, as to not injure your hand further.. "You're an asshole."
"Aw, don't be like that baby. It's cute."
"Fuck off!"
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A/N: heheh we all need a little soft Sukuna in our lives.
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darlingdaisyfarm · 10 days ago
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r you still open for requests? if so and if you havent done this, stan twins taking care of reader on their period? im on my period rn and i lowkey am craving for it,, /nf!!
❥ Stan & Ford taking care of you on your period headcanons <3
a/n: oh anon this one's for you and for everyone dealing with the struggle right now <333 may ur cramps be mild 🙏
STANLEY
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★ “what do you mean you feel like garbage?? you were fine an hour ago! what happened?? who do I have to fight??” and when you explain, he just. OH. THAT.
★ “okay, okay, don’t freak out, but,” he digs around in some closet and pulls out a very old hot water bottle. “this thing got me through some rough winters. i hope this will, uh. . . stop the angry uterus thing.”
★ if anyone (Soos, Dipper, some poor clueless tourist) makes a dumb joke about “mood swings,” Stan will protect you. “oh, you think that’s funny? let’s see how funny it is when I lock you in the Mystery Shack bathroom for a week with no toilet paper!”
★ will not let you lift a finger. so worried about your state he physically shoves you back down if you try to do anything. “nope. nope, nuh-uh, baby, don’t even think about it.”
★ if you're dying from pain and nothing helps, he just holds you close while dramatically saying “oh sweetheart, if only nature was FAIR, it’d be me bleeding instead! why this world is so unfair????”
★ of course he buys you snacks. SO MANY SNACKS. he heard somewhere that chocolate helps, so now he’s bought four different brands of cheap chocolate bars from the gas station
“uh, i got these. one of ‘em’s gotta be the magic one, right?”
★ “old man Mcgucket says bark tea fixes everything. should we. . . should we try bark tea?”
★ once Stanley pulled out a beer and immediately regretted it. “. . . wait, no, that’s for me.”
★ ofc he cooks for you. he’s a big believer that food fixes all things, even if he doesn’t understand the science of it. makes you the heartiest, greasiest, most filling meal he can. you might not even want it but it’s the intent. it's the love. (and if you actually ask for something? he’ll make it with no hesitation)
★ you look even slightly like you’re in pain?? immediate concern. hunched over? “alright, that’s it, you’re going on the couch.” he literally herds you over with his hands on your shoulders, forces you to get comfortable. “c'mon, c'mon, up ya go. feet up. blanket on. there ya go.”
★ lovingly teases you when you cry over dumb stuff, but only a little. “you're cryin’ over a commercial? sweetie, c’mon.” wipes your tears anyway. kisses your forehead after.
★ grocery store trip. Stanley standing in the feminine hygiene aisle, he calls you from the store like, “baby, what the hell is ultra-thin? why are there WINGS on these? you gonna fly away or somethin’? :(”
★ i have a feeling he'll get the wrong ones. Stan comes home proud of himself only for you to be like Stan these are panty liners. he’s FLABBERGASTED. “they were in the same aisle!! they had the same stupid pink packaging!!”
★ eventually, he settles into his caretaking mode, ruffles your hair, makes bad jokes to make you laugh even when you feel awful. if you get emotional from the hormones he panics a little but ultimately just lets you cry on his shoulder and pats your back
★ mutters “alright, where’s it hurt, lemme at it.” then massages your lower back, rubs your stomach clumsily but gently. Stan is determined to physically get rid of your pain somehow even if that’s not how it works
★ makes you rest by putting on a movie and forcing you to stay put. he picks the weirdest mix of old action flicks, crime shows and one sappy romance he swears he doesn’t like. (he totally does.)
★ if you’re in pain he's gonna fix it. but since he can’t punch your uterus, he does the next best thing. distracts the hell outta you. "alright, sweetheart, what’s it gonna be? poker? tall tales? let's watch duck detective?”
you giggle. “Stan, just cuddle me.”
“oh, yeah, you got it, c’mere.” immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his big arms around you, rocking his most precious thing in the world.
★ if you're up at 2 AM, restless from cramps, Stan notices immediately “owwh, doll, let’s getcha comfy.” guides you to the couch, sets you up with a blanket, turns on some quiet late-night TV. he stays up with you, spending sleepless night taking care of you. he sits there, rubbing your back, making sure you’re okay
in some hours more though, he falls asleep next to you, head leaning against yours
STANFORD
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★ HE KNOWS BEFORE YOU DO. this man has studied interdimensional quantum phenomena. you think he hasn’t mapped out your cycle like a scientist mapping the tides???? PLEASE
“sweetheart, shouldn’t you be starting your period soon?”
“what? no?? I feel fine“ and twenty minutes later, you’re in pain
“ah. as I suspected.” Ford says
★ literally tracks it like a researcher. has a whole-ass journal with little notes. estimates symptoms, cravings, moods. he says it's because “I want to be prepared for you”.
you catch him writing in it one day. “Ford, what is that?”
he looks guilty and awkward. “a. . . documentation of your menstrual cycle?”
you take it, open it and your eyes widen. it got a whole-ass formula for predicting your moods
“wtf Ford, you made a menstrual algorithm??”
he rubs the back of his neck. “well, i wanted to ensure that i could be fully prepared for any and all symptoms—“
you’re just staring at the notes, not even listening to him. “did you seriously track that I crave sour candy more than chocolate???”
Ford pushes up his glasses. “i prefer to call it an empirical observation, yes.” next thing you do is kiss him senseless, because this nerd is the most devoted man on the planet
★ i assure you, he's already stocked up. you go to grab something and oh . . . heating pad? already plugged in. pain meds? already out on the counter. ur favorite snacks? somehow already bought. tea? brewing
★ of course! of course you'll get his lectures about periods. “did you know that menstrual cramps are caused by the uterus contracting due to prostaglandins? i read a fascinating study on ways to mitigate the pain—“ but let me tell you, he’s rambling because he’s nervous about you hurting. also because he thinks knowledge = comfort
★ his gentle hands, always. adjusting your blanket. rubbing slow circles into your back. fingertips ghosting over your forehead to check if you’re feverish
★ absolutely 100%, without a doubt, Ford takes notes on what helps you. if you ever say something like “ugh, this tea actually helps a lot” he writes that down. if you offhandedly mention “i think dark chocolate makes it better” he’s buying you ten bars of it next time.
★ he tries to keep you distracted. puts on old sci-fi movies and nerds out over them. reads aloud from a book if you want because he knows you love his voice
“did I ever tell you about the time I discovered a species that only reproduces once every ten years?” he just TALKS to you. calmly. thoughtfully. lets his voice carry you away from the pain.
★ he will stay up with you if you can’t sleep. even if he’s exhausted, even if he has research to do. if you’re in pain, he’s right there. “sleep, darling. I’ll stay up for a while. you need to rest.” strokes your hair until you do and presses a kiss to your temple when you finally drift off.
★ Ford can’t stand inefficiency. the first time he hears you complain about normal period products, he rubbed his chin, thinking. you’re uncomfortable??? with a problem that science could potentially solve???
“hmph. there must be a better way.” he disappears into his lab for hours.
★ what he makes depends on what you complain about! hate pads? “ah. they’re inefficient, bulky and uncomfortable. yes, darling, I see the flaws.”
hate tampons? “too absorbent, prone to leaking at unpredictable rates. . . fascinating, but flawed.”
cramps?? “prostaglandin-induced muscle contractions. I can work with this!”
no problem is too small. he listens to every complaint
★ “i will revolutionise menstruation, darling!” you're so proud of him. Ford is proud of himself too
★ normally, he treats you like his equal, his partner, his greatest love. but when you’re sick ohh he secretly loves having an excuse to baby you. he brings you tea and tests the temperature on his wrist before handing it over. he fluffs your pillows, tucks you in way too snug. if you groan in pain, he’s immediately alert. “what is it? what do you need? tell me, dearest, I’ll get it.”
i can't believe i wrote an entire fic from Ford's pov journaling reader's cycle, im going insane
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arbitrarykiwi · 12 days ago
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Hiiii I was wondering if you had any thoughts about mean nam gyu :3 holding your head down into the pillows and plowing you from behind even when you cry!!! And like trying to reach behind you to slow him down and he just grabs your arm 😵‍💫 sheesh I just know he can fuck someone through the mf mattresss I’m like going insane
You Can Take It
do I have any thoughts about mean namgyu??? OH BOY DO I!!!! Lemme tell you when I got this request I was jumping for JOY!!! I could not stop thinking about it. I just know, I FEEL IT IN MY SOULLLLL, that this man could fuck you dumb into the mattress EASY!! He definitely also has a huge thing for fucking you until you cry
Warnings: smut (18+), in the squid games, rough sex, fucked dumb!Reader, exhibitionism (fucks you in the main room) choking, spitting, oral (m and f recieving), deepthroating, name calling (slut/whore), dirty talking, dacryphilia (he fucks you till you’re crying), read at your own risk
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You found yourself pulled into a group with Thanos, Nam-gyu, Semi, and Min-su. It wasn’t really your idea, you remember after the first game, and after you voted to continue playing, Nam-gyu had approached you.
Well approached isn’t very fitting. He had grabbed your wrist as you were passing by, pulling you back to him. He simply said, “You’re sticking with me. You’re mine.” And you weirdly agreed.
You hung around him and the rest of the group from then on out. He was super touchy- always wanting to be near you but…he was also mean. He would scoff at anything you said. Try to argue with you over the smallest things. But then he would ruffle your hair, rub his thumb against your cheek to calm you down after the second game. It was weird. But hey, you needed all the people in your corner you could get.
During the game of Mingle, after multiple rounds and the players getting increasingly frantic as tensions rise, the group number was 3. When Thanos grabbed Min-su and Nam-gyu into his side you were sure you were going to die.
You were pulled away by a stray group of two men, rushing you to a door. You never got to see how Nam-gyu was fighting out of Thanos’ grasp to try and team up with you.
When the game was said and done you found yourself hurrying back to the purple hair you caught in the crowd- because where Thanos was, Nam-gyu would also be. After the game all you found yourself wanting was to be near him. It was weird. You figure the trauma of this hellhole made you bond to him in some odd way.
He was colder than usual, he allowed you to be near him, to lean on him. It was embarrassing, really. All you wanted was some sort of comfort or attention, a hand on your shoulder or even a him ruffling your hair like he normally did…but nothing.
So eventually when lights out came around, you made your way to your bunk. You sat down on the edge of it, looking down at the concrete and your white shoes- well used to be white now they are a sick red color. Dried blood. You stand up and begin kick off your shoes, stretching once done to try and ease the ache in your bones.
You straighten up when footsteps approach. The lights dim but you can make out the bold white ‘124’ of the jacket patch. “Nam-gyu?!” You ask in a whisper, surprised.
“You really are dumb aren’t you?” He growls, taking steps closer to you. His gaze is dark, angry. It’s also mixed with something you can’t pin point. Your face turns into a scowl, moving to back up with each step he takes towards you. “I’m not dumb.” You retort, “What the fuck are you even on about??” You say in a hushed voice.
“That stunt you pulled at the game today.” He says through clenched teeth, backing you against your bed, the back’s of your knees hitting the sides of the metal frame, nearly making you fall down. “What part of sticking with me do you not understand?” He growls, his face a few inches from yours.
Before you can even think to move one of his hands grabs your face in a bruising grip. It hurts, you’re sure he could break your jaw if he wanted to. You suck in a shaky breath, he’s so close, the metal of his rings sting your skin in an ice cold bite, was he always this hot?
What the fuck are you thinking??
You shake your head of the thought and furrow your eyebrows, realizing what he meant. “It was 3 to a room. You and Thanos had Min-su.” You hiss out, “I was also grabbed- pulled away. I wasn’t about to fight it and get myself fucking shot.” You growl out, was he really that serious?!
Ever since you he pulled you into their odd group he wasn’t the friendliest to you. It was weird, he was oddly protective but he would only ever scoff or mock anything you said. Sure he said ‘you’re sticking with me, you’re mine’, but with how he treats you, like you’re an annoyance for joining the group- why the fuck would he care if you went another group during Mingle.
“I told you…” he growls out in a low hushed rumble, tilting his head to look at you better. In the light that seeps through the windows of the doors at the front of the room you can see him taking in every bit of your face, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he breaths in a breath. “…to stay with me. ‘N I would have thought you were smarter, could follow directions…” he whispers, coming closer so as he speaks his lips brush against yours.
You chock it up to the days of carnage around you changing you into a different person- because you have no idea why you’re not slapping him, you didn’t usually take shit like this and you’ve gotten into plenty of fights, you could fight him off. But you don’t.
Instead you find yourself feeling so very hot, a warmth beginning to blossom deep inside you; a feeling you know all too well. To say you’re a little ashamed is an understatement…but fuck, you might die tomorrow. That thought of death looming over your shoulder throws most of your dignity out the window. And you succumb to the delicious feeling in your lower stomach that you’ve been trying to fight.
“That being said I came to teach you a lesson.” He says, pulling back from you the slightest bit to look down at your lips- admiring how they’re slightly parted, allowing him to feel your shuddering breath against his skin. “I don’t like sharing what’s mine…and I’d say I’d made a good claim on you, told you, you were mine from the get go, yes?” He hisses in a hushed tone through his teeth. The tone of his voice, one you have never heard when you were around him before. It’s deeper, rougher, desperate even.
It has you speechless, thighs squeezing together without you even thinking about it. When you don’t respond his hand connects with your cheek. It’s not hard, it’s quick and sharp, a light sting to get you to focus. And as fast as his hand connects with the flesh of your cheek, it’s back to jaw in the same bruising grip as before.
“Y-yes you did.” You choke out, and he grins in response. “Thaatssss riiighhttt.” He draws out in a heinous, mocking tone. “So I think ‘s only fair that I teach you a lesson on how to properly fucking listen right?” His smile widens, his hand not on your jaw comes to settle on your lower back, pulling you against him.
You only bite your lip and nod, your hands grounding yourself on his chest. “Good.” He laughs, and then he’s on you in an instant. His lips collide with yours in a rushed, nearly frenzied motion. It’s involuntary, but you whine into the kiss.
His hand drops from your jaw, both hands moving under your jacket and shirt to grab at your waist. His hands were warm against your cold skin. You could feel the multiple silver rings, the metal nipping coldly at your skin.
He was unforgiving to say the least, the kiss had you incredibly hot. His tongue snaked its way into your mouth expertly, tasting all your mouth had to offer. You don’t even realize one of his hands has removed itself from your hip and has attached itself to your throat.
It’s a rough grip, enough to make you let out a choked gasp, eyes shooting open as he pulls away from the kiss. He can see the way your pupils are dilated from the way the dim light catches your eyes. He scoffs, “So pathetic…you enjoy this. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you?”
You open your mouth to speak but he interrupts, his other hand gliding across your waist and moving down your stomach, fingers dancing along the waistband of his sweatpants. “Mhm…” he lets out in a low growl, fingers untying the knot of your sweatpants stings.
“‘S all you needed, someone to set you straight. Probably so worked up because no one’s fucked you like the whore you really are…” his grin widens, his eyes never leaving yours, his hand on your neck squeezing; the other hand is dipping under the material of your track suit sweats and under your panties.
His hand splays across your pubic bone before running his long slender fingers through your folds. His eyes widen when he feels just how wet you already are. “Yeahhh….” He drawls out, almost in a hushed coo, “‘S exactly what you need, ain’t it?” His fingers rub against your entrance, playing with your folds for a couple seconds before gliding his fingers up and against your clit as he draws his fingers out of your pants.
He pulls his fingers up in front of your face, spreading them out so you can see your arousal web between your fingers in thick, sticky strings. You let out a strangled moan, it’s a silently sound due to the pressure on your neck.
He chuckles softly, bringing his fingers up to your open mouth and shoving them against your tongue- forcing you to taste yourself. Your lips instinctively wrap around his ringed fingers, sucking the digits into his mouth, tongue swirling around to clean his fingers off.
He hums in approval, “Trying to win me over, huh, sweet thing? Tryna be good…” he laughs, his fingers shoving themselves further down your throat. You gag around them, making him let out a low moan. “But it doesn’t work like that…no….you still have to be punished sweetheart….needa show you that I meant it when I said you are mine.” He rasps, a hungry, lustful look in his eye.
In a second he’s pulling his fingers from your mount and picking you up, tossing you onto the bed. He’s onto of you in a second, straddling over your form. His hand presses against your throat, just admiring how his hand look against you. It trails down your sternum, over the swell of your breast before gripping at it harshly through the material of your shirt and bra.
It has you arching up into him, a soft moan falling from your lips as a plea for more. He’s lifting his hand, grabbing the hem of your shirt and bunching it up, lifting it up above your bra. He sits back on your thighs, looking down to admire you.
“Prettiest set of tits I’ve ever seen..” he growls, hand not holding your shirt up working to pull down your bra. When your tits are out on full display he sucks in a breath, head diving down to capture a nipple into his mouth. He’s biting and sucking relentlessly, his other hand on your other breast kneading the flesh in his large hands.
It was a while since you felt any sort of attention like this and with the situation you’ve been stuck in the past couple days, it’s like an itch that’s finally being scratched. It’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You let out a large sigh, arching into him.
Your hands come up to entangle in his hair, trying to press him even further into him. His teeth and tongue are relentless, lathing over your hard nipple and working around suck bright red marks into your skin.
He pulls back with a wet ‘pop’, smiling down at you with the same wicked grin he’s had since this whole thing started. Like only he knows just how truly ruing you were about to be.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you…” he says scoffing down at you. “Going to fuck you dumb so all you remember is my god damn name.” He growls. Suddenly he’s moving off of you settling at the foot of your bed, kneeling, and as he moves he’s pulling you up into a kneeling position to mirror him.
“But can’t fuck you right now…” he growls, hands gripping your face, squishing your cheeks together. “No… that would be a reward not a punishment…” he chuckles, his hands drop to push down on your shoulders. You know what he’s trying to insinuate, you comply, sinking down onto all fours, facing towards him so his hard, clothed cock is directly in front of your face.
You look up to him, the look in your eyes making him laugh in a low, degrading tone. He’s gripping the back of your head and pressing your face into his erection. It’s filthy. He’s smushing your cheek against his cock, rubbing it up and down, the fabric of his pants feeling abrasive against your cheek.
“Just needed someone to set ya straight….no one’s ever put you in your place.” He hums down at you, you’re looking up at him with an angry glare but you’re not pulling away. “Awh…what’s that look for?” He laughs, “you’re jus’ provin’ my point sweetheart, you’re nothing but a brat who needs the attitude fucked out of ‘er.”
He’s pulling your head back far enough for him to grip at his pants and underwear pulling them down. His cock springs out, falling against your face with a hearty ‘plap’. You can’t help the gasp that you let out, both feeling it and seeing it for the first time.
His hand moves to the top of your head as he holds you still, his other hand on your cheek, using thumb to hold his cock on your face. He’s thrusting back and forth, dragging his thick length along your face. You hate that it makes you all the more hotter. You can feel the way your panties stick uncomfortably to your cunt, your arousal surly begging to soak through your track suit pants.
Yet you still look up at him with the same defiant expression, like you hated him. But he knew you didn’t. “Keep that expression, girlie. Just makes me harder.” He growls pulling his hips back. His hand that’s not holding your head grips the base of his dick, rubbing the leaking red tip over your lips. “Actin’ so mean and angry when you’re just achin’ to suck my cock ain’t ya?” And in response, you part your lips.
“Heh…yeah you are.” He muses lowly, pushing the head of his cock into your warm lips. He removes his hand from the base of his cock, grabbing the hem of his shirt in his hands and pulling it up out of the way. You keep staring up at him, watching as his head throws back and his chest heaves as he draws in a large breath.
He pushes his cock deeper, letting out a low groan as he draws his hips back the smallest bit to only sink back into the heaven that is your mouth. Your tongue flattens out, taking more of him in, relishing in the taste of him on your tongue. His hand that rests on the top of your head wastes no time to push you down the length of his cock. You let out a choked sound of surprise that only makes him laugh.
“You really thought I was gonna go easy on you? Are you that dumb?” He scolds, grinning down at you wickedly, your eyebrows furrow at his words, letting our muffled sounds of protest as you look up at him with a scowl- or the best one you can make with his cock shoved in your mouth. “Yeaaahhh…” he drawls out, “keep looking at me just like that…” he continues through gritted teeth as he pushes his cock further into your mouth, the bulbous tip beginning to press at the back of your throat.
You let out a muffled gag around his cock, the movement of your throat only allowing him to sink further in. Yet, he realizes your hands are still by your side- you’re not even bracing against him or trying to jerk off the length that’s not in your mouth.
“Ahh look at that. Maybe you are good for something if you can’t listen. Good fucking cock sucker ain’t ya?” He laughs, rocking his hips a couple times before pushing the back of your head hard- sinking your mouth all the way to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his pelvic bone.
You gag around him, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth, your eyes screwing shut. His hand that’s not on your head comes in contact with your cheek in a few quick, sharp, taps. “Oh no, open your fucking eyes and look at me.” He orders. You obey, your eyes opening, glaring at him from tear soaked lashes.
He tilts his head, beginning to pull you up and down his cock, making sure every time he sinks into your mouth, he’s sinking balls deep. His heavy balls hit against your chin with every thrust. “That’s it, looking at me so angry when you’re gladly taking my cock down your throat” He mocks, pushing you down so your nose brushes the dark hairs that surround his cock. You choke around him, muffled gags of protest just causing more spit to bubble up and escape your mouth.
He pulls you completely off of him, you’re turning away and coughing, spitting, using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth. His hand in your hair roughly jerks your head back to look at him. “Did I say you can get clean? You really don’t know how to fuckin’ listen.” He growls, before you can react, he’s spit directly on your face and shoved you back down on his cock.
You moan out around his cock, it pains you how much being used like this turns you on, but fuck does it feel so good. When you look up at him this time, your eyebrows aren’t furrowed in anger- but upturned in a desperate look as if you wanted to do nothing but please him.
“Thaatss it..” he growls, his words slurred, eyes trained on you as he fucks his dick impossibly deeper into your tight throat. “You just like being’ used, fucking slut.” He says chucking, pressing your face all the way to the base of his dick to make you choke again. “Say it, say you like it.” He says lowly, drawing his cock put your throat ever so slightly.
With watery eyes you try to speak around his cock, responding with an ‘I like it.’ But it just comes out as garbled chokes, the words hardly able to be made out but it’s exactly what he wanted. “Yeahhh you do, fucking bitch.” He says, thrusting his cock in and out of your throat in a brutal pace.
And you just take it. You can feel your cunt dripping in your pants, the sticky arousal that weeps out of you coating your inner thighs.
You’re sure the other players around you can hear the debauched, wet, sloppy sounds you were making as you suck his cock, taking him in so greedily despite the tears welling up in your eyes and the lack of breath available to you that his cock in your throat causes.
He reaches the hand that’s not in your hair down to cup your jaw, chuckling darkly has he hooks his thumb in the corner of your mouth. It makes you so embarrassed. It causes even more drool to slip out of your mouth and your mouth to ache even more than it does. “See, now you’re not looking up at me all pissy, just needed a cock in your throat to calm ya down.” He laughs, shaking your head side to side on his cock by the thumb that’s hooked into your cheek.
You whine out around his cock, your drool beginning to cover your shirt, the white fabric becoming visibly darker and beginning to stick to your skin. He pulls his thick length out of your throat, a large amount of bubbly spit being pulled away with it. You gasp, catching your breath.
“Bet you’re fucking soaked you slut. I just know choking on some cock gets ya’ all nice n’ sloppy.” You bite your lip and whine silently, you don’t want to agree but you know it’s true. Your panties are stuck so uncomfortably to your cunt, your arousal now soaking through your track suit completely- leaving a dark wet patch all over the crotch and inner thighs of the fabric.
He’s quickly turning you back around away from him and pushing you to all fours once again, his hand is pressing on your back forcing you into an arch. You can feel his hand run up your spine and grip at your hair.
Your face is shoved into the mattress, it’s rough, causing you to fall over with a choked whine ripping through your throat. He’s leaning over you, his thick cock grinding itself up and down the valley of your ass, his head right next to your ear. “I knew a whore like you would love to be manhandled, isn’t that right?” His words are a mocking, almost evil titter, hissing into your ear as his hips rock against your ass. You can feel his erection through his pants.
You’re infinitely glad that your bunk was one in the far corner of the large room, the shadows of the other bunks and the dark room shrouding what you know was surely about to happen. You know you’re horrible for even thinking this- but you’re also thankful that the many bunks around you weren’t all full, a large number of the people who used to surround you were killed off by the second game.
And he knew that. When lights out came, and he knew he had to teach you a lesson. He took his opportunity.
He’s hovering behind you, his hands running down your back, to your waist, and then your ass. His hands quickly move back up to the waistband of the tracksuit and pulling the material down your legs to be bunched around your ankles.
You try to turn your head to look at him but his grip on your hair tightens, it’s relentless and mean- you’re sure some strands of hair were ripped out. But it only causes your cunt to weep desperately, arousal only beading and dropping in thick, gooey strings onto the sheets.
“Nuh-uh..” he growls “you’re not calling the shots here.” He emphasizes his words has his hand pushes you deeper into the plush pillows. “You’re going to sit there, like the compliant slut you are. N’ you’re gonna let me use this sweet cunt, isn’t that right?”
The fingers on his other hand that wasn’t in your hair run softly over your ass, it’s a strange soothing motion. As his hand runs lower though, it’s soon apparent that the feather light, almost delicate motion was just to throw you off. His hand comes in contact with your pussy, giving it a hard slap.
You cry out, body jerking forward. His palm grinds into your clit, a delicious pleasure awarded after the sharp sting of the slap. “Fucking answer me.” He growls, his hand that’s manipulating your face to pull it out of the pillows some, allowing you to look at him.
“Y-yes, mhmm.” You whine out desperately, your head trying its best to nod despite his hold on your scalp. He lets out a low chuckle, feeling your hips push back into his hand. He got you exactly how he wants you. No more of that bratty attitude. No more talking back to him.
“No fuckin’ shame…just desperate to be touched” he chuckles out, sitting back up, his hand pulls back from your pussy, sticky ropes of your arousal stringing his hand to your cunt. “Haven’t even done anything and you’re drenched. That’s how much of a slut you are? Hm? Just so needy for some cock.” He mocks, his fingers running through your folds.
He’s simply addicted to the sight of your swollen cunt, desperate to take whatever he gives and just continuously spilling milky white arousal. The sheets below you are stained a darker color, a pool of evidence doing nothing to help your case.
You can only whine, “P-please, p-please.” You chant out and he only laughs. “You poor thing..” he chides, sitting up and leaning over you to smile wickedly at you. “You want it bad? Huh, sweet thing.” He says, his voice oddly softer, his hand gently brushing your hair back out of your face.
He looks at you tenderly, mirroring your pout. You nod, tears starting to build up in your lashes having been needing him inside you for so long. “Mhmm.” You hum out, rocking your hips against his palm that cups your pussy. “Want it so bad… wan’ you.” You mumbled out, looking up at him like some kind of doe eyed prey.
“Should have thought about that before you decided to be a fucking bitch.” And the wicked grin is back, he’s going to take his time with you.
His hands grip at the globes of your ass, letting out a low growl. He pushes forward, spreading you open nice and wide for him. You can’t help but to shiver when the cold air of the room hits your pussy. It’s embarrassing, you can’t see him but you know he’s just staring at your weeping hole.
“Such a cute lil’ pussy…” he hums out, making sure you can hear his words. Two of his fingers run up and down your cunt, lightly petting at your clit. You bite your lip, a muffled ‘mhmm’ coming out of your mouth as you feel his fingers touch exactly where you needed him.
“Doesn’t take much to get you dripping does it?” He says with a laugh. “Just running my fingers over your clit and being mean to you..” he says, pausing to spread his two fingers, moving your lips aside to show your clit fully. “..makes your little cunt cry f’me…” he says watching with a trained eye as a new thick, white drop of your arousal pushes out your entrants and runs down, collecting on your clit.
He hunches back over your arched form so his mouth is right by your ear. “How filthy can you be? I mean really, letting me use you like this…here? Sobering all over my cock and whining like a bitch in heat when my fingers are touching your pussy…do you not have any shame?” He rambles in a low gravely tone as his fingers just play with your puffy cunt.
It’s feather light touches that have you gripping the pillow and trying to push your hips back into his fingers for more. He just laughs at your desperation, pulling his hand back and siting back up so he can have a perfect look at you.
His hand pulls back from your sopping heat and he spreads his fingers, admiring how messy his hand already is. His palm and fingers glisten with your arousal, a wet shine that has his cock pulsating angrily in his pants. He wants nothing more than to sink balls deep in your tight cunt- but that’s what you want, and he can’t give you what you want.
He spreads you open, his hands gripping harshly at your ass, spreading you wide so he can truly see the mess he’s made of you. The stretch causes your back to arch, pushing your hips back towards him, calling out a weak cry of his name.
One of his fingers stretches to circle around your tight hole. It’s a light touch that has you shivering. It’s not nearly enough to drive you to the release that you desperately needed. His eyes are fixated on your pussy, fingers dancing along your entrance, watching as you clench and spasm around nothing.
“If I knew this is all you needed to set you straight…” he mumbles, a single finger pushes into your wet cunt, a moan is ripped from your lips as you finally get what you needed most. “…I woulda done this the first day here. Made sure you knew who you belonged to.” He rasps, his single finger beginning to pump in and out of you.
He’s entranced by the way his finger disappears in your tight heat to be pulled out covered in your milky white arousal. When he pushes his finger back in, feeling your tight walls suck him in, gushing even more syrupy wetness out, his tongue is licking at his lips.
“So tight..” he mumbles, his hand that’s nod busy fucking you still holding your ass, fingers clawing into your flesh to keep you spread open for him. “How are you even going to take my cock, pretty girl? Gonna have to get you ready, hm?” He coos at you as another finger begins to push into your entrance.
The stretch of his two fingers is enough to have you moaning out a choked call of his name. His fingers move expertly in you, scissoring themselves and working you open. You’re gushing around his hand, covering his pale fingers and knuckles with your wetness. It makes every thrust of his fingers into your cunt a noisy, sloppy wet sound resonates. Anytime his fingers slam back into you, another sob is wracked through your body.
His fingers spread themselves, opening your hole up to him. You can only whine and hide your head in the pillows, you don’t think you’ve ever been this vulnerable and for some reason you’re allowing it to happen at the worst time and in the worst place. You can hear a low, gravely rumble come from his throat when he watches your pink cunt gape around his fingers, entranced at the way he can see your cunt try to clench around his fingers that hold you open for him. He leans in and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted when his tongue dives deep into your pussy between his spread fingers, licking around your walls like he’s already addicted to the saccharine taste of your cunt.
He pulls back with an obnoxious slurp that has you whining in embarrassment. He sits there for a moment, basking in the taste of you on his tongue. And you’re fucked, because he thinks it’s better than any high he’s had. No drug rush could compare to the euphoria the taste of your cunt gave him.
He’s on you in an instant, mouth engulfing your cunt and sucking your clit into his warm mouth. It’s filthy. His nose is pushed into your entrance, rubbing into you and sniffing like a dog. When he releases your clit, his is tongue laps at you in large encompassing licks, you can tell it’s not for you but for him. It’s like he’s drunk off your arousal. Every loud, obscene slurp and shake of his head has you crying out, your hips circling back onto his face.
You can tell he’s truly just eating you for the sake of tasting you, teasing you relentlessly by never running directly over your clit. He’s around it, tip of his tongue just millimeters away from when you needed it most but he never gave you that sweet release. Every bit of arousal that spills from your abused cunt is swallowed greedily by him.
You shake and writhe against him, fingers tearing into the bedsheets as you try to catch your breath. But he never lets you, so just have to sit there and choke out sob after sob as he slurps at your pussy.
When he pulls away you cry out, trying to push your hips back, seeking out the solace that was his tongue. He’s standing back up and placing his hefty cock against your ass, still wet with your spit from taking him down your throat it allows him to slide easily between your ass cheeks. He’s humming to himself, the image of your perfect ass underneath his aching cock. The plush of your ass squeezing against the side of his length as he rocks against you.
“You gonna stick with me from now on, sweetheart. Gonna fuckin’ listen?” He says, his voice softer than usual. You can hardly form a coherent thought let alone string together an answer. You nod your head dumbly. He growls, his hand connecting with your ass in a painful smack, hard enough to imprint his hand into your flesh, the skin becoming red and raised. You keel over moaning out a broken sound that was probably his name- it was so shaky and wrecked you couldn’t tell.
“Use your words. C’mon now I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already acting like a dumb whore.” He says in a low rasp, hand smoothing over the area that’s raised in the shape of his palm. “Y-yes I will…” you sob out, pushing back against him. “‘M yours!” You whimper, turning to look back at him.
He raises an amused eyebrow, “ohhhhh….” He says in a sweet coo, gripping your ass roughly with both hands, “That’s it, didn’t even have to ask you to say it…good fucking girl….”
He’s suddenly drawing his hips back and lining up with your dripping hole. He’s pushing in without any restraint, bulling his fat cock into your cunt until he’s balls deep. You’re sobbing out into the pillow, it doing little to muffle your wrecked sounds. He’s so fucking big it feels like you’re being split in half. You feel him so deep inside you, you feel like he’s going to permanently etch the shape of his cock into your walls.
His head is thrown back, his hands gripping into the plush of your ass, nails breaking skin. The heaven that is your tight cunt granted him just what he needed to get him through these games. You’re so wet and so warm and you’re squeezing him So. Fucking. Tight.
“Knew this sloppy cunt would be perfect f’me.” He hisses as he begins to slowly draw his hips back. The drag you feel when his thick length pulls out of you is intense, it has you nearly sobbing into the pillow below you.
And just when you think you’ve adjusted to the violent stretch that he imposes on your cunt, his hips begin to pound into you. You’re surging forward, biting your lip so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood as you try to keep quiet. It’s useless though, the wet sounds of skin slapping on skin and the thick smell of sex is enough to give you two away regardless of the noise you make.
He’s fucking brutal. Both hands are releasing your ass and moving up to your head, his thumbs are overlapping each other while his other fingers tangle into your hair. He’s shoving your face, hard, into the thin pillow of your bunk, every sharp thrust of his cock deep into your swollen cunt has you surging forward on the bed. You can’t even move, not one bit, the two hands on the back of your head pushing you down so hard you can’t even twist your head. All you can do is sit there and take it.
Your cunt is gushing around him, every thrust of his hips sound off a wet sloshing sound. “Making a mess out of my cock you filthy fuckin’ thing.” He growls, positioning his hips into you at a pace that has you seeing stars. Every time his balls slap against your clit, pushing his thick cock deep into your tight walls, the tip of his cock pounds against your cervix. “Can you hear your sloppy cunt?” He muses into your ear, his hips drawing out slowly and jackhammering back into you in long, deep thrusts, making sure you hear every wet squelch of your pussy.
It’s a punishing force that makes you begin to sob out, your hips driving back to meet his thrusts pathetically as tears begin to well in your eyes. His hand pulls your head off the pillow the slightest bit, using your hair to yank your head to the side- shoving your head back down into the pillows with a harsh movement of his hand when he maneuvers your face where he wants it.
When he sees your face streaked with tears and your lashes clumped in wet bunches a wicked and sadistic grin creeps across his face. “Oh!? You fuckin’ cryin’?” He laughs, his thrusts becoming even harder, the wet slap of his pelvis against your ass becoming so rough it nearly stings every time he connects against your ass. “What happened? Thought you could take it. You’re a big girl aren’t you?” He mocks.
You can’t even speak to respond, you’re quite literally being fucked dumb. All you can do is cry and take it. It felt so fucking good but it was too much. His hands still at the back of your head, fingers gripped tightly to your hair and using it to drag you back into him, it leaves you no where to run.
You reach back behind you, your hand trying to push at his torso, crying out a choked moan, “H-holy fuck! P-please ‘s too much.” You beg your hand desperately pushing against his stomach, though it does absolutely nothing to stop the relentless jackhammering of his hips. He just scoffs, adjusting himself quickly, his hands grabbing both your wrists and crossing your arms behind your back.
“Nuh-uh you’re not running away from me, you’re going to fucking take it.” He growls. He’s able to hold both your arms behind your back with one of his large hands, his grip was definitely going to leave purple and blue hues on your skin. His other hand is back on your head, grabbing a fist full of your hair and hauling you upright- your back flush with his chest, “Gonna. Take. Every. Fuckin’. Inch.” His words are punctuated by long, deep strokes up into your cunt that split you open. When he finishes his sentence he stills balls deep inside you, grinding his cock into your cunt.
Tears soaked your face, your eyes were red and puffy, and raw pussy was still being abused by his thick length that grinds slowly in you. You let out a sob, your face turning to the side to try and look back at the absolute beast of a man that was fucking you dumb. His hand releases your hair, coming up to latch onto your throat.
He hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can look at your face, when he sees your tear stained faze, drool covered lips and hears the pathetic breathy whines that flip between ‘too much’ and ‘harder’, he lets out a deep moan that makes your body shake against him. “You look so pretty cryin’ f’me.” He muses, the hand on your neck trailing up your jaw so two of his thick fingers could push themselves into your mouth.
He presses his fingers deep into your mouth, pressing on your tongue and holding your jaw open. Drool just pours out of your mouth, dirtying the white shirt you still had on even further. It was sticking to your skin, the warm, wet damn fabric becoming see through as you keep messily babbling around his fingers.
“Just taking whatever I give you,” he hums happily at your debauched state, “Messy fuckin’ girl, you just love getting fucked dumb by me don’t you?”
Your eyebrows are upturned and you nod in response as you try to thrust your hips back to get him to begin pounding into you again. “You think you deserve to cum?” He’s mocks, his hips slowly driving up into you in short thrusts. He finally removes his hand from your mouth for you to respond. You look at him, your eyes desperate, “F-fuck yes…please. I need to-“ you choke out a whine when he begins to slowly pick up his pace, “I-i need to cum. Ohmygod please!” You babble.
He stares at you for a moment taking in your fucked out state. Usually you were so bratty, so defiant, a scowl or quizzical look always on your face- not now. No, now you’re looking at him like he’s got your life in his hands, like you’re utterly devoted to him and that’s what exactly what he wanted.
“Mhm…yeaahh…” he hums, leaning over to kiss you, it’s slow and meticulous, a drastic contrast from the erratic way his hips hammer his cock deep into your pussy. “You look like you deserve it now, go ‘head and cream on my cock you slut. Let everyone here know who makes you feel like this.” He murmurs in a low, tantalizing voice.
His hand drops from your neck to your clit, rubbing furious circles around the neglected bundle of nerves. You’re straight up sobbing now, it’s so fucking much. His fingers on your clit, the relentless way his thick cock abuses your cunt, and the way he’s dragged out your release for so long makes you cum so hard your vision goes dark.
You’re gushing around him, crying out his name as he uses his hand still holding your arms behind your back to drive you down onto his dick, riding out your orgasm. He’s following right behind you, the way your cunt spasms around him, like a vice that’s trying to suck him in and keep him there, makes him cum deep into your pussy.
“Gonna cum so fucking deep in your slutty cunt..” he growls out. You fall limbless against him shaking as you feel him pump you full of his thick cum, and as he gently thrusts up into you, riding out his own orgasm, you can feel it being pushed out of you. There’s so fucking much. And he’s letting out the most beautiful sounds in your ear as he cums and cums, hitched breaths and low groans of your name spill out of his lips.
Both of you are breathless, he holds you against him, rocking his softening cock into you a couple times before pulling out. You hiss from the movement, the absence of his cock filling your pussy makes you feel so empty now. Before you can look back at him to say anything, he’s pushing your arms into your back and forcing you to fall back forward.
His hands are back on your ass, spreading you for him so he could see the mess he made of you cunt. Your whimpering and writhing against the sheets, any sort of stimulation of your pussy is overstimulating. “Quit complaining.” He growls, eyes entranced by the look of your abused cunt- red, raw, puffy and covered in a mix of your arousal and his cum that was pushed out of you. He grins to himself hands massaging inwards, pushing towards your pussy, you moan out, hands gripping the sheets desperately.
His movement causes his huge cum load to begin to drip out of you. The feeling is filthy, you’re whining and shaking against his touch. His fingers move to scoop the large glob of his cum that was dripping out of you, two fingers intruding into your pussy to fuck his cum back into you. “If you were as good as I thought you were you would have kept it all in and we could have avoided this, sweetheart.” He laughs.
“But you-“ you go to talk back, to rightfully blame him for making it spill out of you but he cuts you off by removing his fingers and dragging his tongue up your cunt once before pulling back. “Enough of that.” He scolds, a hand smacking against your pussy.
He scoots back and works so haul your pants and underwear back up your body. “Gonna keep these on the rest of the night, you’re gonna sleep with my cum leaking out of you like the whore you are…” he growls, leaning back over your arched form so his lips are right by your ear “Then tomorrow you’re gonna meet me in the morning for the next game and stick by me…isn’t that right?”
You nod and look up to him. He places one last kiss on your lips, it’s oddly soft compared to the rest of what just occurred. He’s brushing your hair out of your face and pulling away slowly. He doesn’t waste time, he’s hauling himself off your bed, tucking his soft cock into his pants and headed back over to his bunk.
You collapsed into jelly on your bed, finally beginning to catch your breath. You couldn’t think, your head foggy, the only idea in your mind was the one that involved immediately going to Nam-gyu’s bunk in the morning. Maybe he’d reward you for listening so well.
If what just happened was a punishment you could only excitedly imagine what his reward would be.
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OH M GEEE this was so scrumptious to write. I hope yall enjoyed!!! Requests are still open im makin my way through them slowly but surely! I also wanna start letting yall know what requests I got cookin up next everytime I post a request
Next up I got more thangyu content!! First I got one just about the general dynamics of the relationship out of the games (gonna be sfw with little nsfw snippets)
Then… you guessed it MORE THANGYU!!! It’s gonna be them passing’ you around like a blunt, complete nsfw
After that…MORE THANGYUUU BABY!! I got a wonderful ask for a thicc!reader x thangyu smut with double penetration and lots of love for thighs n tummy’s
Thank you guys as ALWAYS!! Your support means the world - <3 kiwi
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la2yn0va · 3 months ago
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soo maybe for next streamer reader, a roommate or something walks on stream while they're playing honkai? doesn't have to be drastic, I just think its pretty funny lol
Reader: Why can’t I get lucky with my relics as I am with my fucking character and lightcone summons?
He grumbled, looking at the horrendous body piece relic he just got. The stats were utterly disgusting to look at, death would be a mercy then gazing upon the trash on his screen.
—Meanwhile, inside the game in the character closet—
Jade: Who would dare mess with the relic stats! Scammer! Is this your doing!!
Sampo: Ah—!! N-not-not at all! I swear it! Haha..~ 😅
Ruan Mei: Could this… blasphemy be the work of Nanook?
Dr. Ratio: Or perhaps it’s Aha’s doing. It’s no secret how they enjoy their… sloppy pranks to gain their graces gaze.
Sparkle: Haaa?! Please. Aha has more class than THIS.
Herta: WOULD YOU ALL SHUT UP!! Any more loud speculations and the prophecy will be in jeopardy!!
—The 4 Characters—
Tingyun: Ahh… This… wasn’t how it was supposed to go down…
Luocha: You’ve been given TOO many chances. No more will you be allowed to conduct your.. ‘business charms’ onto the relics.
Tingyun: AHH! W-wait hold on—!
Blade: Silence foxian. Be grateful you’re allowed to live after such acts.
Jingliu: If it were me, I’d have stricken you down instantaneously for such atrociously disgusting acts.
Tingyun: C-come on benefactors! This is clearly the work of those parasites! My charms NEVER—
—back to reader—
Chatter 1: Get that demon off the screen
Chatter 2: Bro just stop doing grinding for relics 😭🙏
Reader: You guys suck. I clearly need emotion support here and yall—!
Roommate: That fucking relic is gonna increase the damn bills!!
His roommate slams open the door and yells, making m/n yelp and jump, flicking around to see his roommate before sighing in relief and covering his face, leaning on the desk.
Characters: This fucking bitch again!!?
Roommate: Here lemme just do god and Satan a favor~
They walked to his monitor, grabbing his controller/mouse and clicking off the screen, going to the relic inventory and deleting the disgusting relic m/n just acquired.
M/n: Thanks.. man..
Roommate: Any time… literally. Haha~!
M/n: Go fuck yourself
They ruffled m/n’s hair, ignoring the viewers comments and not noticing the 4 characters change their facial expressions into disgust.
To be so blunt and inelegant with their grace… LIVING in THEIR home was… a violation! One worthy of death (they might be jealous)
Blade’s frown deepened into a full blown growl, while the other 3 had their own angered face. Jingliu activating her technique and freezing everything around her besides her 3 companions, Tingyun gaining an electric spark in her eyes, and Luocha preparing his coffin.
Rappa: Evil Samurai, must be eradicated. Ninja master Voidbrone must be saved from such evil.
Argenti: What an ugly spec in the presence of beauty themselves.
Boothill: Tch.. Muddle-Fugder!
Kafka: My oh my… Elio oughta have a plan on how to end this.. creature’s existence.
M/n: You’ve exceeded your welcome, exit stage left fucker.
Roommate: Yeah alright you beta cuck.
M/n: Suck my dick you—!!
-The End-
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cyberlsk · 1 month ago
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happy new year, leon!
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leon s. kennedy/fem!reader (fluff <3) warnings: leon is an affectionate drunk (he's so sappy i love him), he’s so so cute a/n: first fic, hi guys!! wc: 1k (short and sweet)
It’s half past twelve and there’s no movement downstairs, no poorly concealed footfalls as Leon skitters inside.
Strange. Your eyes shoot open at an incoming message from your boyfriend: Heading home. I love you, followed by an excess of emojis that Claire had taught him to use (no, Leon, you shouldn’t comment that red sweating emoji under Chris’s gym post–no, it doesn’t mean that, he’s gonna think you’re hitting on him). 
Fifteen minutes pass and you hear the front door crack open. Someone grunts, followed by the sound of low muttering and Leon’s characteristic groans. You patter down the stairs.
“Leon?” you ask softly. Two pairs of eyes meet yours–Chris, hauling Leon’s clearly drunk ass inside, and Leon, giving you the dopiest grin. 
“Baby…” he nearly whines, pouting.  Slightly damp hair sticking to his forehead and curling at the nape of his neck, big blue eyes begging for your attention.
“We played a drinking game and this dumbass” – he smacks Leon on the shoulder– “had way too many drinks. It’s unbelievable. How can one person be that bad at a game?”
“M’ not bad,” Leon slurs. Then, leaving wet tracks all over the floors (you were so gonna kill him later), he stumbles forward. “Baby, missed you. Missed you so much.” He doesn’t even bother to take his boots off, much to you and Chris’s chagrin. 
“Hey,” you chide. “No shoes in the house, babe.” A few minutes later, following many apologies toward Chris and many more complaints from Leon, your boyfriend’s in his work suit and Chris heads out. 
Leon buries his face into your neck the second that the front door shuts. “Baby, I missed you. You’re so warm. So nice, and so–” he leans back, placing his cool palms on your face. “So, so pretty. How’d I get so lucky?” You don’t realize your cheeks hurt with how much you’re smiling until he imitates you, sticking his tongue out when you try to scold him. His eyes light up. “I got you a gift!”
After much effort in his inebriated state, he fishes out a thin, velvet box, clasps your hands, and gently places it in your palms. “Open.”
You eye him curiously as you unlatch it and gasp. It was an exquisite necklace, laden with jewels of your favorite colors and twinkling brightly in the sliver of moonlight that beamed through the windows. Simply put, it was gorgeous. “Leon, I…I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
You don’t notice that Leon has slipped to his knees until he gently tugs you toward him. “Anything for you.” He’s looking up at you with those adorably big blues again.  “Anything for my baby, my pretty baby. Let’s get married,” he babbles, teeth shining. “Don’t have a ring, but lemme–lemme practice. Wanna marry you. Please?”
“Leon, let’s get you to bed–”
“Please,” he says, with those damn puppy eyes again. This man was going to be the death of you. “Let me practice.” Then, with as much coordination as a drunk man can summon, he gets on one knee. “Be my wife?”
You’re stuck to the spot. You can’t tear your eyes away from Leon, the necklace, his flushed cheeks, his hopeful smile. You’re hyperaware of the fact that your hair is awry, you’re fighting sleep behind every blink, and you’re wearing a stained RPD shirt, yet he’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.
You kiss the backs of his outstretched hands. “Of course, baby.” And, before you can get another word in, he throws his full body weight on you, wrapping you so tightly in his arms that you fear you’ll suffocate. You reciprocate, tracing small circles into his back while your other hand ruffles his hair. The soft, blond tresses are almost a pale brown in the low lighting. “Of course.”
He continues babbling about how much he loves you as you lead him to the shower, waiting outside the door as a healthy compromise (he initially wanted to hold your hand while he scrubbed himself). The water shuts off; you wait for a minute while he dries himself off. Then another. Then it’s been a good, what, ten minutes, and you crack the door open to make sure he’s doing alright. And he certainly’s a sight.
The first thing you notice is that his lower half is bare, despite the fact that his hair is wrapped in a towel (microfiber, he insisted, to protect his hair). The second thing you notice is that he’s muttering to himself, bent on one leg, standing, then bending on the other. “What are you doing?”
Leon shoots you a lazy smile. “Nothing,” he says. “Just practicing how I’m gonna propose to my wife.” He emphasizes the last word with bravado, running a hand through his hair. You laugh.
“Alright, husband. Put some pants on.”
And though he would wake up tomorrow, hangover and embarrassment fighting to see which would win, you knew he meant every word he said. You gently place your necklace on the nightstand. The second the lights shut off, Leon hums into your shoulder, pressing soft kisses up your clavicle to your chin to your cheeks, anywhere he can get from this position, where your arms and legs are thrown on each others’. 
And despite the uncertainties of his career, you know one thing for sure–Leon loves you, come hell or highwater. Leon loves you, and he professes it to you in any way he can–even if vehemence was never his strongest suit. Leon loves you so, so much that he’ll do whatever it takes to return to you. Just like this.
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bbearthyy · 2 months ago
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Pogues Share Everything
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content warning: sub!jj, bottom!jj, top!sarah, dom!sarah, sub!cleo, sub!kiara, dom!cleo, dom!pope, dom!john b, polyamory, cock warming, cunnilingus, overstim, slapping, subspace, kinda mommy kink? not rly tho, somno, i think that’s all lemme know if i missed any
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
The pogues are all together. It’s not like a poly relationship exactly; Sarah and John B are married, JJ and Kie are dating, so are Cleo and Pope. HOWEVER - they all share each other.
like just thinking about sometimes when JJ is feeling overwhelmed he’ll find Pope so he can sit in his lap and suck on his fingers, relaxing his jaw and just having them on his tongue, Pope thrusting his thick fingers into JJs throat every now and then to keep him entertained. or he’ll go to John B who’s on the couch, just hold the brunette’s cock in his mouth while John B sits on his phone or does whatever he wants, the other pogues floating in and out of the room (sometimes ruffling JJ’s hair when they pass or running their nails gently down his back cause this is normal and he’s just a baby)
or if Kie wakes up horny in the middle of the night and goes to grab a glass of water, and John B just so happens to be in the kitchen at the same time. he eats her out on the counter until she’s in tears and has to push him away because it’s so good
and sometimes Sarah wants to be on top for once, but John B can never bring himself to be submissive so she’ll find JJ. she’ll sit on his face till she cums at least twice and then ride him until he’s fighting to stay awake, trying so hard to be good but he’s cum three times already and “oh fuck mama please i can’t no more plea-“ and she just slaps him. not hard enough to really hurt but just to shut him up for a minute because “i know you can take it baby, just a little longer.”
and maybe cleo will hear them, come join just for the last round, spreading her pretty thighs to keep JJ’s mouth occupied. and when they’re done Sarah will go run a bath and Cleo will hold JJ close and he might cry in her arms but only a little because he’s floaty right now and mama is no where to be found but it’s ok because “Sh sh sh, you’re alright rude boy. She’ll be right back, she’s just getting a bath ready. C’mere.” and JJ will wrap his arms around her stomach and suck on her chest to ground himself until Sarah comes back.
and sometimes one of them will sleep on the couch, wrapping a pretty red ribbon around their index and middle finger on one hand, to let everyone know they’re ready to be used even though they’re sleeping. maybe it’s JJ, and Pope has a bad dream and he goes out there and fucks JJ awake, pounding into him so deep that neither can tell where one of them ends and the other begins. or maybe it’s Cleo, and John B will walk in and eat her like she’s his last meal. forcing her legs apart with his hands and burying his face deeper even when her nails scratch his arms and pull his hair and she cries for him to stop because fuck man she said she wanted to be used not sucked completely dry.
anyways thanks for coming to my ted talk. please be nice if this sucks i’ve never written anything before😭
-ˋˏ ༻𖤓༺ ˎˊ-
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justwinginglife · 1 month ago
Text
A Trial of Tears and Tails
Sorry this is so random, I came up with this idea and wrote it on my lunch break, haha. Just thought it was so cute and funny.
“Um. My love. Are you fully rested? Could you come here and tell me that it’s not just my lack of sleep making me see things?”
Rafayel poked his head into the bathroom with a towel in hand. “What’s wrong, honey? I got the towel, like you-” He dropped the towel, eyes practically bulging out of his head.
“Okay. So it’s not just me then.”
Giggles erupted from the bathtub beside you as your son busied himself poking soap bubbles, oblivious to the stares of his two parents and oblivious to the fact that where once there had been two little legs, there now emerged a tail. A mermaid tail.
Your breath hitched in your throat. “I mean, it’s cute. It’s super cute. But does he… I mean, did he do it on purpose? Does he even know he did it? Does he know how to control it? Or is he going to keep randomly transforming for the rest of his life? What if he doesn’t know how to change it back? Will he ever walk again?” You started spiraling.
Rafayel rushed to your side, kneeling down beside you at the foot of the tub and pulling you into his arms. “Hey, hey, don’t think too hard; you’ll give yourself a headache. Look at him- he’s fine. He’s happy. I say we just let it play out and see what happens, kay? It’ll be fine.” He repeated again, nuzzling his nose against your ear before leaning up to press a reassuring kiss to your temple.
But soon enough, it was very much not fine.
At first, you both just watched your son. You watched as he splashed around in pure bliss, you watched as his smile spilled across his face and tugged at his rosy cheeks, you watched as he squealed his delight. And you thought to yourself that he’d never been cuter than he was right now. You couldn’t help but pepper him with kisses and he couldn’t help but laugh. Rafayel gazed fondly at the warm sight before him and, wanting to join in on the fun, he soon began tickling your son’s sides.
That was when the trouble started.
In attempts to escape Rafayel’s tickles, your son soon began splashing and squirming, and it was then that he realized he couldn’t just up and run. It was then that he realized that he was now stranded in the tub, bound by his flopping tail. And he didn’t know why the hell he had a tail.
He started crying, screaming, wailing- all manner of devastation and despair arose within him. And it damn near broke Rafayel’s heart.
He immediately moved into a protective stance, trying to console the tearful toddler. He made silly faces, he ruffled his hair, he picked him up and cradled him, rocking him in his arms, whispering that everything would be okay. He pressed kiss upon kiss to his head, like it was a precious ritual, like all would be well once he’d bestowed enough of his love. But it was to no avail.
Rafayel turned to you in desperation; “Help me,” clear in his eyes.
“What am I supposed to do??” You mouthed back to him, taking the crying child from him.
He threw his arms up in frustration, “I dunno- sing him a song, do something, do anything!”
You cleared your throat awkwardly, rocking him back and forth, as you began to sing the first song that came to your mind. “Um… I wanna be… where the people are. I wanna see… wanna see them dancing.”
Rafayel raised a brow at you. “Part of your world? Really? That was the best you could come up with?”
“You said to sing him a song! I thought it kinda… fit the situation?”
Rafayel snorted. “I see it’s going to be up to me to fix this. Alright, give him here; lemme try again.”
After taking him back from you, Rafayel marched his way into the kitchen. You followed behind, curious as to what his next plan of action was.
“Maybe the little guy is just hangry. Some food will cheer him up.” Rafayel started to warm up his steak dinner from last night.
“Raf! He barely has teeth, how is he gonna chew the steak?” You exclaimed.
“Well… maybe I’m hangry too! Maybe the food was for me.” Rafayel grumbled, anxiously chomping on his steak before spoonfeeding some of his mashed potatoes to the kid. Fortunately, it seemed to soothe him for the time being, but the issue of his tail was still to be addressed. How were you going to get him to turn back? You were sure once he finished munching on mashed potatoes that he would remember the tail and then be back to bawling and blubbering in no time at all. And if he cried, Rafayel might just cry. And you couldn’t have that.
So you disappeared into the nursery and came back with his favorite toys, his favorite books, his favorite movies. You spent the next two hours entertaining him, reenacting epic fight scenes between his toy robot and his toy dinosaur, reading to him all manner of fantasy and fiction, and snuggling up beside him as the TV played his favorite movies. He was more doted on than he’d ever been in his single year of living. And he loved it. But he still had the damn tail.
Rafayel suggested yoga and that was when he learned that children were not very flexible. Then he suggested meditation and that was when he learned that children do not sit still long enough for it. He finally settled on teaching the kid to use the tail, and that was when he learned that the age of one was far too young for someone to learn how to swim. The kid retained absolutely none of the information Rafayel so enthusiastically provided.
You knew this was a very serious moment, but it was hard not to laugh when you heard Rafayel’s voice echoing in the bathroom, emphatically declaring, “Now, kick! That’s not a kick, kick! Like this! No, like this! That’s a… that’s something. That’s… getting closer. Nope, never mind, it’s not. Yeah, okay, this is not working.”
Eventually, Rafayel passed out on the couch with the child dozing off in his arms. Your poor husband had exhausted nearly every brain cell in existence trying to solve this issue (so his nap was much deserved), but now, as you watched the two of them fondly, you noticed that peeking out from beneath the blanket, two tiny feet had finally appeared.
You laughed so hard that you almost woke them up when you realized what had happened; he had exhausted the kid back into being a human.
Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @tbaluver @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter
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