#and let me just say something đŸ«¶đŸŒ
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supermarvelgirl15 · 5 months ago
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Me to Jason the entire time I'm reading Death in the Family
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awrkive · 3 months ago
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[TEASER] THE LOVE PROGNOSIS (m) — JJK.
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for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.
the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. that girl who thought the guy she met at 19 at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. the girl who thought that her boyfriend at 21 would finally be The One after he introduced her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. you’re the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.
but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.
PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader
GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
WORD COUNT 1.2k words for this teaser but the fic currently is at 22k words (heavily unedited). the final estimate is around 30-35k đŸ€“
WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, weddings and engagement themes, the angst is a bit extreme (medium level tbh) on this one, it’s the
 yearning? one sided-love?, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, multiple sex scenes (will specify once the fic comes out), i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me. the full list of warnings will be indicated when the full fic comes out đŸ™đŸŒ anyways warnings particularly for this teaser: drunk oc, implied alcohol consumption, germaphobe jk lol
NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanted to do something for jk’s birthday this september and this is what i came up with 😭 i am so soooo so incredibly excited to announce this fic to you guys đŸ˜”â€đŸ’« ive been working on this on and off since the last week of july and its currently at 20k words so its coming along really well đŸ«‚ its gonna be a HUGEE HUGEEE fic since its estimated to be around 30k words which will be a first for me hehe <3 pls look forward to it and REPLY TO THE COMMENT SECTION IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST (pls do not send an ask for taglist request đŸ«¶đŸŒ) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!!!! I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS <33333
[ TLP MOODBOARD ]
READ FULL FIC HERE ❗
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“Hey, swing me.”
You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.
“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.
“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”
“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.
“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.
Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how
 big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it. A huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.
“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.
You laugh.
“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”
He visibly winces. “TouchĂ©.”
Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.
For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.
But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.
“Okay, your turn.”
Jungkook gives you a big grin.
“Nice.”
You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.
“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.
You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”
The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.
You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.
“What the fuck, __?”
You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.
Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.
Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.
“Let’s lie on the ground.”
“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.
You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.
Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”
You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.
Jungkook stops his rambling after that.
“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies. “The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”
Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him. As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.
You smile, going back to looking at the sky.
“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.
“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.
Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”
You chuckle at the irony.
“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”
You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”
That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.
“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”
“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.
“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”
“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”
You hum, eyes still closed.
“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.
The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.
Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.
“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.
You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.
Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.
“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.
You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.
“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.
Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.
You fall asleep easily mid-drive.
In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.
morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up
ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed
— your angelic friend, kookie
You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.
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© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2024. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works are not allowed.
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lymtw · 3 months ago
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the toji and his shy girl stuff is soooooo good like serious amazing. I WAS WONDERING IF you could do toji and his shy girl teaching her how to suck his dick or something like that?? pls and thanksđŸ€—đŸ€—
A/N: EEHEE, thank you! đŸ«¶đŸŒ Of course I can write this out!(Please don't look at me after reading đŸ«Ł) Anyways, thank you for sending in this request 💙
Toji and his shy girl...
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"Toji?" You call, looking up from where your cheek rests on his thigh. He seems like he's very deep in thought, just staring straight ahead with the smallest crease between his brows. You tap his stomach, and the sudden contact manages to snap him out of his trance.
"Hm?" He looks down at you, like he's lost on the conversation that hasn't taken off, yet.
"You okay?" You ask, rubbing his thigh in an attempt to comfort him. He knows he shouldn't be so turned on by such a lighthearted gesture, yet he's finding it so difficult to keep something at bay.
"Yeah... Yeah, i'm okay, baby. You need something?" He looks down at you, attempting to ignore the way his dick jumps at the position you're resting in.
"No, I'm okay. Do you need something?" you return, your expression still somewhat concerned.
"Don't worry, doll, it's nothing important." He smiles at your attempt to figure out what's going on and cups your cheek with one of his hands, loving the warmth and color that spreads beneath his palm.
"Well... you always help me with unimportant things. Can I try something unimportant with you?" Your brows crease a little when you think back to what you just said. It sounded dirty, and you didn't intend for it to come off that way. "Oh, that came out wrong." You laugh, nervously.
"You're okay, baby. Try again." His eyes are lidded as he continues brushing your cheek with his thumb, the rest of his fingers feeling up the side of your neck and the underside of your jaw.
"I just wanna help you," you mumble, derailing your gaze from his intense, darkening one. You have this feeling in your gut that it's lust that changed his demeanor, but you've never liked assuming things like this. You prefer to hear him say that he needs you or to let his hands communicate and lead his desire for you, so that you know for certain.
"You're such a sweet girl," he says, his voice low and borderline sultry. "Got the prettiest eyes, the cutest nose, and those lips? Mmm..." He sighs, completely drawn to the warm and soft feeling of them against the pad of his thumb as he traces them. "They're perfectly suited for me."
Your heart is racing. Your gut is proving to be correct about this moment. He has this look in his eyes that makes your chest feel tight and his voice is like drizzling honey when he speaks to you.
"You really wanna help me out?" His eyes flit up to look at yours. He can't help the sly grin that appears when you nod, hesitantly. "Be sure about it, mama."
"I-I do. I want to help you. Anything you want or need."
"And if I said I need your pretty mouth?"
This stuns you into silence. You can't formulate a response quick enough to shut down his doubt of you meaning it when you said 'anything'.
"It's okay, doll." His gaze softens, the lust still evident in the way he hasn't released your cheek. "Don't worry about-"
"I don't know how to do it," you cut in. "Sorry," you mumble, recognizing the rudeness of your interruption.
He snickers. You're too polite for your own good. "That's alright. Be more clear, for me. You don't know how to do what?"
This is when things get hard. When Toji asks you to explain yourself during moments of intimacy. When he asks you to tell him what you want or when he knows you have questions about things you've never done before, like now. You freeze up. You don't know how he manages to say such vulgar things to you with so much confidence.
You groan, embarrassed, your flushed cheeks hidden as you pull away from his hand and bury your face into his thigh. "I don't wanna say it," you mumble.
"You're gonna have to put it into words for me, pretty." He grins like a menace. He knows exactly what you mean, but he gets a kick out of making you speak up about these topics. He finds it extremely hot when your soft spoken self verbalizes sexual things.
"Talk to me," he says, tapping your head when you go silent.
You sigh, wishing it was possible for him to read your mind. You try to get the words out in your own simplified way and hope it's enough for Toji.
"Can you guide me? On how to... suck your..." you huff, frustrated by how hard it is to explain exactly what you're talking about. You're not even looking at him and it's still proving to be a challenge. "...you know?"
"My dick?" He says, smoothly.
You nod your head against his thigh, humming to confirm, with so much relief at knowing he understood what you meant.
"Ask properly," he challenges, and your heart drops. He's playing with your hair, twirling a lock between his finger as he waits for you to talk.
"Toji, please. I can't."
"How are you gonna feel comfortable with me instructing you on how to do it, when you can't even say it? Try for me, baby."
You go silent, again, for a few more seconds, subconsciously rubbing the outer part of his thigh. You muster all the courage you have to ask the sinister question. After all, they're just words. The real nerves will appear once you start acting on your words.
"Can you teach me how to suck... your dick?"
"Good girl," he praises. "Now finish that off, nicely."
"Please?" It comes out meek due to the racing in your heart and the tightness returning in your chest.
"Mhm. Of course, my pretty girl." That smirk you know of all too well returns as he releases the lock of your hair he had wrapped around his finger. "You wanna lift your head and look at me? Wanna get a look at your pretty face."
You feel way too light as you lift yourself off of him, but nonetheless, you sit up straight and reveal your flustered state to him.
"Oh, you're so cute. Come here," he says beckoning for you to come even closer. He watches as you crawl towards him, minimizing the space between you two.
You take note, up close, of the way his scar lifts with that smile that drives you crazy. You feel jittery as you practically sit on his lap, feeling his bulging hard on poke you through his pants.
"Yeah, you feel that, don't you?" He thinks the way you nod in response is precious. His blunt nails run up and down your clothed back, making goosebumps rise on your skin. "It's all for you, ma. You did this."
With those final words, he pulls you in for a kiss. It's slow enough to allow you to melt into it, giving you a chance to move your lips along with his. The little breaths through your nose have him scrunching the back of your shirt into his tight fists, partially lifting the hem and revealing small areas of your skin. Your arousal skyrocketed, and you can physically feel it through the wetness collecting in your panties. A few breaths leave him when you start squirming on top of him, giving his hard cock some much desired stimulation.
He breaks the kiss, chuckling when you whine after chasing another kiss and being met with air.
"You ready?" He asks, lifting you off his lap and setting you down between his legs. He smiles at the cute pout and flourished color on your kissed up lips. You just got into kissing him, fully and comfortably reciprocating the kisses, and now you're jumping into learning how to suck him off. To say you're nervous is an understatement.
All of these feelings, just for you to nod and respond with a less than confident, "Yeah."
"You'll be okay. I won't be rough with you." The urge he felt to say 'this time' was immense, but he didn't want to scare you off from this, so instead he pinched your cheek, a loving gesture that brought a soft smile to your face.
You sit back like an obedient puppy and watch as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans. Already, just through the small glimpse you have of his bulge peeking out through the split of his zipper, you can see the way his cock is trying to jump out of his boxer briefs. You can't lie, not even to yourself, the sight has you throbbing. His pants are off and you can clearly see the monster he packs in all its glory, tenting through his briefs.
You let out a quiet sigh, squirming where you sit due to the throbbing you know won't be paid attention to anytime soon.
"You wanna take it out?" He asks, smirking at the way you're trying so hard not to look at his dick.
"Uh... yeah, okay." You're trying so hard to not come off as nervous, and failing miserably. The way your hands were clasped before you shakily and tentatively started reaching for him gave it away. You could feel him watching your face too. Those eyes, so focused on your every move that you felt like you were forgetting how to breathe. It all doubled down when you hooked your fingers into the thick band that cinched around his hips. Your knuckles grazed the warm skin of his lower abdomen and you let out the smallest breath before continuing.
Oh, how Toji loved watching your delicate self take charge of things. Even if he was instructing you, your hands were the ones doing all the roaming. He's simply a voice to your ears in this moment, while you do the experimenting.
He hums, relief seeping through him when you finally begin to release his cock out of its confines. The sound makes your eyes dart up towards him, meeting his once again dark gaze.
"Keep going, doll," he purrs, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear. You look down again, focusing on what your hands are doing as you keep pulling the front of his briefs down until his cock springs out and slaps against his clothed abdomen. "There you go," he says, loving the bewildered look on your face. He doesn't feel a bit of shame for the amount of precum he's leaking. Having your eyes on him as you wait for further instruction just encourages it.
"Lie down. Get comfortable."
You follow directions and lay between his legs. This position gives you a direct view of what will be in your mouth in just a few moments.
"Good girl. How 'bout you give it some kisses," he says, starting you off with something he thinks should be nice and easy.
"Kiss it?" You ask, feeling all the nerves rush you when he confirms with a hum. You simply look at it for a few seconds before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his shaft. "That's what you meant... right?" You ask, unsure of whether you're correctly following directions.
"Mhm," he assures. "Gonna need a lot of those."
You do as told and pepper kisses all over it, starting from the tip and trailing all the way down to the base. Every peck of your lips is soft. You look like an angel performing such an unholy act. You're so devoted to making sure you're doing this right that you don't pay any mind to the stickiness that occasionally connects you to his length through weak, thin strings.
Toji smiles as he watches you, his sweet girl, acting so dirty. Your lips are all wet as you kiss his length up and down, the tip of your nose gliding along. It's a view that has his dick throbbing as you continue on. He's pictured this scenario so many times, he's even had wet dreams that involve this exact sight, but he thought that's all they would ever be. That this vision would stay in his head. He never thought you'd actually be open to doing something like this. What a pleasure it turned out to have been wrong.
"You're doing so good, doll." He sighs, grinning with satisfaction at how well you listened. He cups your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his palm. "Wanna use your tongue, now?"
You lick the excess off your lips, a gesture that wiped the smirk off Toji's face. He had to hold back a groan when you looked at him with those doe eyes of yours that struggled to hold his gaze. You had no idea the effect you had on him.
"Just my tongue?" You ask, readjusting your position.
"Yup. That's your next instruction from me."
You felt that surge of nerves from the beginning all over again. You felt incredibly hot, like you were melting on the spot, but again, you jumped into the moment. Your tongue darted out and you brought it up close to his cock. You licked along one of the veins that decorated it, tasting the slight saltiness of his skin.
This was more of a task on Toji, now. His level of restraint was being tested with every drag of your soft, warm and wet tongue. He'll never even attempt to consider the sight of you licking an ice cream cone or sucking on a popsicle, innocent, again.
You keep lapping at the same spot, and it's so inconvenient for him because it's a sensitive point. If you don't move on, there's a chance he might bust before you get him in your mouth. He has to redirect you.
"Make sure..." he pauses, not wanting to stutter over his words as you keep going. "Make sure your tongue goes over every inch, baby." He sighs, somewhat relieved when you move to another part. "Yeah, that's..." he groans, the sound low, but audible enough to make your heart pang. "That's good. You're doing so good, princess."
Your tongue goes to his flushed, swollen tip to collect the pearls that continue forming. You can see the way his cock twitches after every few licks, the sight serving to fuel your roaring arousal.
"Fuck," he mutters. "I think you've got the hang of using your tongue. Think you're ready to put it in your mouth?"
You stop, retracting your tongue. You don't think you've done enough to truly prepare you for taking him in your mouth. You don't want him to watch you do it. What if you get it wrong? It would easily discourage you. Will he laugh at you if you gag? Your heart is racing. There are so many what ifs that you feel he would get tired of answering, so you hit him with a simple question. One that would soothe your nerves even the slightest bit.
"Do you think i'm ready?"
He's quick to kill the doubt in your head. You don't deserve to feel like your effort is being wasted, because it isn't. There's a reason he's been leaking like a faucet this entire time, and if he has to assure you that you're doing just fine, then so be it.
"Of course, doll. Didn't you notice how much quicker the last step was?"
You nod. "Yeah, I did. I thought I did something wrong since you had to correct me."
He laughs, a deep rumble that makes your cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and joy. You give him a perplexed smile, unsure if he's agreeing with what you said through the attractive sound.
"Nah, I almost spewed all over your face. We had to move on a little quicker because of that sinful tongue of yours."
You tried so hard not laugh, but the corners of your lips started twitching and then you noticed the way he was grinning because he caught on to your bitten back giggles. You were internally giddy, it was impossible not to react that way to what he told you.
"You got it, baby. Like I said before, I'm not gonna be rough with you." You've always tried for him, regardless of the nerves that course through you and that's enough. "I'm gonna like whatever you do, so don't even worry about that, alright?"
"Okay," you respond, adjusting your position. Toji looks like some god with the way you kneel in front of him. "Maybe I should put my hair up," you suggest.
"I got you, don't worry. I'll keep your hair back."
You were hoping he'd let you do it to give you more time to mentally prepare, but once again, all there was left to do was jump right into things. You put your forearms on his thighs, and lean forward. As you start opening your mouth, you realize that your jaw is going to be so sore after this. He's long and thick and it makes you even more nervous because you didn't think you'd have to unhinge your jaw to take him in your mouth. You do know one thing very well. No teeth.
"There you go." He sighs, feeling the way you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, a soft sight of relief leaving him. Your lips are soft and warm as ever. "Just breathe through your nose," he continues instructing. As promised, he keeps your hair collected in his hand and out of your face. "Mhm, good girl... Fuck."
Your cheeks are hollowed out as you attempt to take more of him. You're a little less than halfway down, yet your mouth is already so full. Is it even possible to fit the entire thing in your mouth?
You swirl your tongue over his tip, running it through the slit to see if it does any more for him. His hips buck slightly, making your heart drop to your stomach and his cock press further into your mouth causing you to pull back.
"S-Shit, my bad, doll."
You breathe before going back in, this time trying to fit more into your mouth. It's hard. You always feel like you're gonna gag, and that's the last thing you wanna do—make a sound that you don't think you could recover from the embarrassment of. You push your limits, trying everything in your power to control your gag reflex, but it's a lot. He's huge. You're drooling all over him. It's messy, does he even like this? The only thing motivating you is the sounds he makes. His sighs and low groans. The way his voice goes down an entire octave when he curses under his breath. You're pushing it, you can feel yourself wanting to gag, so you pull away, and take a quick breather.
"Doing so good, baby," he purrs, releasing your hair for a moment. "You wanna try taking it deeper? You don't have to be embarrassed about gagging. It's just a part of your learning process."
Within what seems like a quick instance, you're going again. You remember what he said about breathing through your nose as your mouth swallows more and more of his length. You're going further down, shutting your eyes tightly as you try to focus on something other than the tip of his cock hitting your throat. You let out a deep breath through your nose, before coming back up, little pants leaving you as you suck on his tip to not lose contact with him. You try his slit again, this time with more gentle licks. You hear him groan, and his hand tightens in your hair.
"Fuck..." the word comes out somewhat strained. "Keep going, baby. Use that pretty mouth on me."
You take as much of his as you comfortably can into your mouth and start going up and down with your lips, your tongue gliding along that vein that seemed to have a huge effect on him earlier.
"K-Keep going." His resolve was crumbling. It was all happening so quickly and he felt debilitated by you. He's never had something like this happen. You barely know what you're doing, yet he's about to flood your mouth with cum. He thought he'd just be a test dummy this time, so you could get a feel for what it's like having him in your mouth. He didn't think you'd actually get him to cum. You're using those underdeveloped instructions he gave you and actually making them work. He's trying so hard not to buck into your mouth, he's right there. You're relentless with that tongue, using it to find his sensitive areas and then abusing them.
Your scalp is starting to sting a little from the grip he has on your hair, but you don't want to stop until he tells you to. Your jaw hurts, but your gags are starting to minimize.
Toji looks down at you, this may have been his biggest mistake. He challenged his own breaking point by leaning his head against the headboard of the bed and shutting his eyes, leaving his body to you for a few minutes so that he could purely feel you— feel what you're doing to him. Then it occurred to him... When will this happen again? When will you ask him to do this again? It was enough of a task to get you to pronounce the question. How can he get you to want to do this after this time? He doesn't know, but for now, he gets to see the mess you make as you work your mouth on him. You have drool all over the lower part of your face and your cheeks are flushed. For now, he gets to feel the way your hands are grabbing at his thighs and he gets to listen to the lewd sounds your lips make against him. It's definitely a sight worth remembering. It'll go straight into the mental shrine of spank bank material he has of you.
"Fuck... oh, fuck... Baby," he hisses, his hips jolting upwards as he empties himself into your mouth. You pull away, glassy eyed at the harsh intrusion of his dick in your throat almost making you choke. Your tongue is coated in cum, some of it went straight down your throat, and inevitably, you have it on your lips. You watch with bright cheeks as his stomach quivers, cum drooling down his shaft.
He sighs. "Show me your tongue, doll."
The potency of his cum is all you can taste. Every taste bud on your tongue is drowned in the flavor and painted white.
"Look at that," he says, almost in awe at the sight of your sloppy tongue. Your cheeks burn hot with every second you keep your it out on display for him. A glob of cum mixed with spit glides down your palate and spills down onto the bed, and god it stirred something in Toji.
"Whoops, sorry," you say, retracting your tongue to avoid drooling any more.
"That's okay, mama. You wanna keep things tidy, huh?" He grins at the little nod and hum you offer in response. He collects the streaks of white that landed on your lips with the pad of his thumb. "Open," he says, calmly, pressing his fingertip into the slit of your mouth. You listen, opening just enough for him to drag the remnants that litter the pad of his thumb, onto your tongue. "Suck," he says, positioning his thumb onto your bottom lip, slowly dragging it out like he's running it through a wringer.
"Good girl. All nice and clean again," he praises. "What about me?"
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softspiderling · 4 months ago
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and i burn for you (and you don’t even know my name) | j.v
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summary:
“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.
“I should leave-”
“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf
. My prince.”
OR; Jacaerys is usually a lot more suave when it comes to ladies. That was before he met you.
pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader
warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), doesn't follow canon, Jace has been aged up to 20!
word count: 7,5k words (oh)
author's note: this is very much is an indulgent story bc i miss Luke and JaceđŸ„Č also inspired by close to you by gracie abrams ! pls let me know ALLL YOUR THOUGHTS!!! happy readingđŸ«¶đŸŒđŸ«¶đŸŒ
✩ .  âș   . ✩ .  âș   . ✩
“Do you think my hair will get just as luscious as yours did after you got back from Winterfell?”
Jacaerys’ rolled his eyes at his brother. They were on their second day of journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell. It was to be Cregan Stark’s name day and he had cordially invited Jacaerys and his family to the celebrations. His mother could not just leave her throne at King’s Landing, and Daemon wouldn’t go without her. Joffrey, Viserys and Aegon where still too young to go, so only Jacaerys and Luke rode to Winterfell on dragonback. They could’ve made it in one day if they had wanted to, but they were in no hurry. Well, Jacaerys wasn’t. He knew what temperatures were expecting him. Luke didn’t, which was why he was so antsy to get there and almost didn’t pack the fur lined gloves their mother had laid out for them. Jacaerys couldn’t wait until the biting, cold winds hit Luke’s face for the first time. He would treasure the memory forever.
“Har har, good one,” Jacaerys said dryly. “The court jester should watch out or you will be going for his position in no time.”
Luke grinned at his older brother wickedly, opening his mouth once more to say another jest, Jacaerys had no doubt about it, but the words died on Luke’s tongue when the winds suddenly turned cold, whipping his hair around like icicles.
“Seven hells!” he cursed and Arrax let out a soft whine, not used to the coldness, just like his rider.
“Nyke ivestretan zirÈłla, paktot Vermax?” Jacaerys whispered to his dragon, stroking Vermax’ neck with his gloved hand and the creature let out a puff of smoke. I warned him, didn’t I Vermax?
It wasn’t much longer until the two brothers reached Winterfell, their dragons landing just in front of the gates of town. Jacaerys could already see Cregan’s imposing figure standing by the gate as he climbed off of Vermax, carefully patting his snout. He took the bags off his saddle, Lucerys doing the same before leaning his forehead against Vermax’.
“SÈłz valonqar. Umbagon va, ao rÈłbagon issa? Se jurnegon hen syt Arrax” Good boy. Stay near, you hear me? And take care of Arrax.
Vermax let out a soft rumble, pressing his snout against Jacaerys’ hand, before he and Arrax leapt back in the air, disappearing across the woods with few wing flaps. Jacaerys wasn’t sure where exactly they went, but he assumed it was some warm cave. Winterfell didn’t exactly have a dragon pit.
“Woah,” Luke gasped, astounded by the amount of white surrounding them.
“I told you,” Jacaerys said, shouldering his bags as Cregan approached them, several pages in tow.
“Prince Jacaerys!” Cregan’s voice boomed across the snowy field, before he stopped in front of the two princes. “What an honor to have you.”
The two men sized each other up, before breaking out in laughter as Cregan pulled Jacaerys into a hug.
“It is good to see you, my friend.”
“And you, Cregan,” Jacaerys replied, patting Cregan’s back that was cloaked in a warm fur. He really ought to ask him what animal pelt it was, he never seemed to be cold. Luke was shifting on his feet next to him and Jacaerys took a step back to introduce his brother.
“Lord Cregan, this is my brother.”
“Ah, the infamous Prince Lucerys,” Cregan said with a smile, shaking Luke’s hand. Based on his face, Jacaerys could tell his brother was struggling to keep a straight face; Cregan’s handshakes were nothing but firm.
“Lord Cregan, it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance.”
“I have heard much about you.”
“Ah,” Luke sighed, hand still enclasped in Cregan’s. “I’m sure all lies.”
“Only good things, your brother has shared high praises of you.”
Luke glanced over to his brother in surprise and Jacaerys only raised his eyebrows at him. Cregan finally let go of Luke’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder, sending the younger man nearly flying.
“How old are you, Lucerys?”
“Ten and eight, my lord. And please, call me Luke.”
“Very well,” Cregan said with a grin. “You’re the prime age of a young prince, Luke. Are you courting anyone?”
“No,” Luke replied, his cheeks reddening. Jacaerys only snickered, ignoring the deathly glare his younger brother sent him.
“No worry. There are a few of very beautiful ladies that will be attending, maybe one or two will catch your royal eyes.”
Cregan gave Jacaerys a knowing look, but he only rolled his eyes, stretching his hands, the coldness starting to seep into his gloves.
“I am about to lose feeling in my limbs, can we continue this dreadful conversation inside?”
“Of course. I apologize, I forget that you are not accustomed to our weather,” Cregan said, motioning for the pages to help the them with their bags. “Let’s get you into the warm, shall we?”
Cregan lead the two brothers towards the Great Keeps, giving Luke a very brief rundown of the grounds as he did. Jacaerys could already feel his fingers warming up; he even dared to take off his gloves.
“We are currently having tea, I would love for you to join but if you wish to get some rest, we can meet again after,” Cregan said, stopping in front of the dining halls.
Jacaerys glanced over to Luke, who only gave him a shrug. “I could do with some food.”
“As do I.”
“Very well.”
Cregan pushed open the door to reveal a lively dining hall, one that Jacaerys was familiar with. He spotted faces he recognized, when his eyes stopped in the middle of the table, surprised to see Lady Alysanne Blackwood sitting next to you, someone he didn’t recognize. Immediately, you turned your head to look at him, as if you had felt his eyes on you. Jacaerys tried not to falter under your gaze.
“Who’s that?” Luke whispered and Jacaerys fought the urge to elbow him.
“The Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon!” Cregan announced, causing a ruckus as everyone pushed their chair back to stand. You only followed after Alysanne gently nudged you, folding your hands in front.
“Thank you for having us,” Jacaerys said, him and Lucerys both bowing. “Please, sit.”
As everyone took their seats again, Cregan led him and Luke to the middle of the table, where three seats were empty next to Alysanne and you.
“My princes, may I introduce Lady Alysanne of House Blackwood and Lady-”
Jacaerys almost tuned out Cregan’s voice as he introduced you, but it was like your name was ringing in his ears. He was sure he had never been quite taken with any lady as with you right from the first meeting. Jacaerys cleared his throat, hoping his voice would come out even.
“Lady Alysanne, it’s nice to see you again,” Jacaerys said, bowing to her as Luke followed suit.
“The pleasure is mine, your graces. I hope your journey was swift,” Alysanne replied. “I hear you travelled on dragonback.”
That seemed to pique your interest as you straightened your back, eying Jacaerys with a new found interest. Jacaerys tried to ignore the heat unfurling in his lower stomach. He had seemed to take beat too long to reply, because Luke cut in, throwing a look at his older brother.
“Yes, my lady. It only took us a day and half’s journey.”
“Ah, I envy you. To travel on dragonback and have a short journey. It took me a moon’s turn to get from Raventree Hall to Winterfell,” Alysanne said with a small sigh, turning to you. “Nearly took you two moon’s turns, didn’t it?”
Jacaerys had kept his eyes steadfastly on Alysanne as she spoke, but when she turned to you, he took the chance to do the same. You nodded, fingers between the stem of the chalice you had been drinking from. His eyes lingered on your slender fingers for longer than they should have.
“Two moon’s turns is quite a long journey,” Jacaerys finally pressed out, hoping his voice didn’t sound odd. “Where in the Seven Kingdoms does your house lay?”
Your eyes met his for the first time and Jacaerys felt like he was looking in the eyes of a predator, as if he hadn’t been riding a dragon for nearly all of his life.
“I am from a land beyond Essos,” you finally spoke, voice as smooth as honey. Before you could continue, Alysanne whispered something under her breath and you let out a small laugh, shaking your pretty head, speaking again. “I’m afraid we’re not part of the Seven Kingdoms, your grace.”
The way you accentuated the honorific had Jacaerys sweat, something he never thought he’d do in Winterfell. He managed to give you a wry smile; luckily, Cregan finally gestured towards the empty seats and as Jacaerys sat down - two seats away from you - he let out a breath of relief, desperate for a quick respite. His behavior was mortifying and unbefitting for a crown prince.
“Are you alright?” Luke whispered from his left as he reached for a particularly large meat pie. “It is unlike you to let me do the talking.”
Jacaerys waited as the butler poured him some mulled wine, only stopping him when it was nearly full to the brim. He lifted the chalice, taking a big drink from it, feeling Luke’s eyes on him the whole time.
“It appears the journey has tired me more than I had expected.”
Luke narrowed his eyes at him, but as soon as he bit into the meat pie, the suspicions slid of his face.
“Seven hells, what kind of meat do they put in these?” he almost moaned, already reaching for another. Slob, Jacaerys thought, reaching for some bread himself, leaving his brother to his own world as he discovered the cuisine of the North. Jacaerys glanced over to his friend, but Cregan was in the middle of a conversation with Alysanne; they were speaking in hushed tones, Jacaerys could barely make out a word even though he was sitting right next to them.
The way Cregan was whispering to Alysanne suggested a certain familiarity; a familiarity that Jacaerys was surprised by; he hadn’t known that Cregan had taken on a lover, and Alysanne no less, though he could see what had drawn his friend to her.
Jacaerys didn’t pay attention for half a second before his eyes impulsively laid on you. He didn’t want to be caught staring, but you seemed preoccupied listening to Alysanne as she talked, so he allowed himself a few moments to take you in. Your hair fell over your shoulder in soft waves, the bodice of your dress was snug around your chest. The more he looked, the dryer his throat became, suddenly the bread in his mouth tasted days old. Letting out a soft cough, Jacaerys reached for his wine, nearly finishing all of it in one to, desperate to quench his thirst.
He wondered if all women from your land looked like you or if it was just you that had him so enthralled. Jacaerys was lost in thoughts so deeply, he didn’t even realize that Cregan had turned his attention to him.
“Did someone catch your eye?”
“What?”
Jacaerys teared his eyes from you to look at his friend, who was sipping on his wine, eyebrows raised. Despite trying to seem nonchalant, the crown prince knew a pink flush creeped on his cheeks; he’d blame it on the wine if Cregan would ask.
“I was enjoying the festivities.”
“You’re surely enjoying something.”
“I’m positively not enjoying this conversation,” Jacaerys sniffed. Cregan laughed, placing his heavy hand on his shoulder. Jacaerys tried not to falter under it.
“I like her. She’s a good friend of Lady Alysanne’s. Though if her behavior grates you: her land does not have a king or queen, so she might not be familiar with our customs. She is also especially forward; I fear that was a given, considering the company she seeks.”
Jacaerys knew immediately what Cregan was alluding to. Alysanne had a reputation for not holding her tongue when something displeased her, there were a good handful of people who quite dislike her for it.
“I’m sure you will get along with her fine, my prince.”
Jacaerys hummed, glancing over to you for a split second before looking away for fear of being caught again, but in doing so, he missed you looking back at him with raised brows. After the table was cleared, you and Alysanne excused yourselves to your chambers. Jacaerys stared after you until you disappeared from sight, his hands clasped.
“Let me show you to your chambers for some rest,” Cregan offered. “Jacaerys, I had the same chambers prepared as last time.”
The three men walked through the hallways of Winterfell once more, stopping in front of Jacaerys’ chambers.
“Someone will fetch you for supper, please get some rest in the meantime,” Cregan said, clasping Jacaerys on the back. Jacaerys glanced over at Luke, who waved him off, so he entered his chambers as Cregan walked Luke to his, with the latter chattering excitedly.
As the door shut behind Jacaerys, the chambers were engulfed in silence and he was finally able to breathe. The room was comfortably decorated, of course in no way as lavish as his chambers in King’s Landing, but everything he would need was there. Taking off his cloak and his doublet, Jacaerys hung them over the small bench that sat near the fire, before he laid down on the bed, staring up the canopy with a sigh.
Gods, he really needed to get it together. He would not allow himself to act like such a fool in front of you again. He couldn’t even understand what it was about you that had him so shaken to the core. Jacaerys had never been the kind of man who stuttered around when it came to women. He knew what he had to offer, he knew a lot of women found his status appealing. But something about you was just
. Infuriating. It made him lose his footing.
Jacaerys was still questioning his life choices that led to this moment, when the door suddenly flung open, and he knew immediately who it was without having to move; there was only one person in whole Winterfell who would barge into his chambers like this.
“Your chambers are so much nicer than mine!” Luke crowed, throwing his hands up in the air before he dropped onto the bed next to Jacaerys. “I do have to say, even though it is freezing outside, the Northeners know how to keep it comfy in their chambers.”
Jacaerys let out a small sigh.
“What are you doing here, Luke?”
“Gods, why are you such in a sour mood?”
“Maybe because I am tired from the journey and you’re sitting here talking about meaningless things,” Jacaerys lamented with a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction, who only pursed his lips, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Let me move onto meaningful topics then,” he agreed. “You didn’t tell me Lord Cregan is betrothed to Lady Alysanne.”
“He’s not, as far as I know,” Jacaerys replied, resigning himself to the fact that Luke wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. “I was taken by surprise just as you were.”
Luke didn’t answer; for a brief second Jacaerys wondered if he had fallen asleep, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be happy about or not.
“What did you think of her friend?” Luke finally asked and Jacaerys rolled his eyes. There it was. “She’s pretty, right? I think she might be interested in me.”
“What makes you think she would be interested in you?” Jacaerys pressed out, annoyed. He knew Luke was baiting him, but what if he wasn’t? His younger brother turned over to look at him, the corners of his mouth tugging up.
“I knew it. You’re absolutely smitten with her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I barely exchanged two words with her,” Jacaerys said defensively.
“Exactly. She makes you shiver in your boots like a child and swallow your words like Vermax does goats.”
“Blasphemous,” Jacaerys snapped, his cheeks growing hot. “I’m the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms, I do not get flustered around a lady.”
“I cannot wait until you talk to her again,” Luke remarked gleefully.
Jacaerys reached over to grab one of the fluffy pillows that was resting against the headboard to whack Luke in the face with it.
The next day, Jacaerys found himself with some time by himself. Cregan was greeting some more of the guests that were arriving for his celebration that evening, and Luke had wanted to see the training grounds of Winterfell, so Jacaerys ventured out by himself, walking the walls. He passed a few guards, who bowed respectfully as they marched past him. They asked if he got lost, if they should walk him back inside where it was warm, but he declined.
Despite the cold snow that was falling from the sky, Jacaerys enjoyed leaving the castle for a few moments. Winterfell was peaceful, the white that covered the grounds allowed him to breathe, a stark contrast to the grounds of King’s Landing. As the cold winds started to pick up, Jacaerys turned to head back, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw you standing by yourself at the wall, staring out at the distance. Jacaerys hesitated.
His interaction with you last night at supper was
 Passable. He had managed to keep the conversation going, he still wasn't happy with himself. But this was unfamiliar territory, he hadn’t ever been alone with you. What if he made a fool of himself?
Before Jacaerys could decide what to do, his feet already carried him over to you. At the sounds of the snow crunching under his soled shoes, you turned around, your eyebrows risen in surprise. Your cheeks were red from the cold, despite the fur-lined cloak that engulfed your shoulders.
“Oh, it’s you,” you said, your breath visible in the cold air.
“Only me,” Jacaerys confirmed, bowing his head slightly in greeting. You did the same. “Come out here for some quiet?”
“Something like that, “ you sighed, eyeing him briefly. Jacaerys tried not to flinch at the clear rejection and pressed his lips together.
“I should leave-”
“No, please, don’t leave on my behalf
. My prince.”
You added the honorific after a brief pause, and Jacaerys stayed rooted in his spot. You seemed like you were in deep thought, and your voice was hesitant when you spoke again.
“I am unsure as to what the difference is, if I’m being quite honest. Do you want me to refer to you as my prince or as your Grace?”
“You can refer to me as anything you want,” Jacaerys said quickly. Too quickly.
The frown on your face smoothed, a grin growing in its stead. “Indeed?”
“I meant,” Jacaerys pressed, trying to sustain any sort of dignity. “You’re not from Westeros, you do not need to address me as your Grace or my prince.”
“I wouldn’t want to seem disrespectful,” you added. “Folks are already whispering about the “foreign lady”, I do not wish to give them more reason to be suspicious.”
Jacaerys felt a flash of hot anger coursing through him at the belief of anyone uttering a bad word about you.
“Are you being mistreated, my lady?”
A laugh escaped your lips. “I did not tell for you to fight in my honor, I have endured worse than some meaningless gossip.”
You tossed your hair back, and for a brief second, your scent carried over to Jacaerys’ nose. You smelled
 Sweet. A scent that was unfamiliar to him, but not exactly unwelcome. With a small sigh, you turned your head to look at him. Damn it, did you say something?
“So... Your grace or my prince?”
For some reason, either address didn’t feel right. Well. They felt right, but not right. Never before had Jacaerys felt anything when being referred to with the correct title except for a sense of respect and pride that he was being recognized for his status. But for some reason, having you address him with either had Jacaerys feel things in regions where he shouldn’t. And both seem equally catastrophic.
“Either is fine,” he finally settled on. “But if no one is around
 It is alright for you to call me by my given name.”
“Jacaerys?”
A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of his name rolling of your tongue so easily. He was done for. No matter what you referred to him as, it made him weak in the knees.
“Or Jace.”
“Is that not improper?” you asked. “I would hate for folks to think I’m getting too familiar with the crown prince.”
He definitely wouldn’t mind getting too familiar with you.
“My friends call me that
 And people that I’m close with.”
A corner of your mouth tugged up in a grin. “You wish to be close with me?”
Jacaerys flushed, stuttering. “I-“
“I’m only jesting,” you said, your gloved hand reaching out to touch his arm and even though there were about five layers between, Jacaerys could *feel* your skin on his. He was in trouble. “I will address you properly in public but if no one is around, Jacaerys
.”
Your voice trailed off and you took a step towards him, leaning in so you could speak to him in a small whisper.
“I hope we can become friends.”
With that, you bowed your head, stepping back and turned to depart, leaving Jacaerys standing by himself. He exhaled a breath - a breath he had not realized he had been holding this whole time.
Somewhere in the distance, Jacaerys could hear Vermax screech out, no doubtedly feeling exactly what his dragon rider was struggling with.
“Yes, Vermax, you and me both,” Jacaerys muttered with a small sigh, enduring the cold for a little while longer before he retired inside, knowing he had to start getting ready for Cregan’s celebrations soon.
“How much longer are you going to stare at your reflection?”
Jacaerys resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. He was tense enough as it was, giving into Luke’s teasing was not going to help it.
“I’m representing mother at this celebration, a single hair out of place and rumors about my legitimacy as heir might start,” Jacaerys pointed out, wiping off the fleck of dusts that sat on the shoulder of his doublet.
“Of course, we would not want that,” Luke said, his voice taking that annoying tone which Jacaerys knew meant he wasn’t taking him serious. “You are most certainly not trying to look absolutely perfect for a certain lady.”
Jacaerys met Luke’s eyes through the mirror, his forehead creased. “I did not ask you to wait for me. No one is stopping you from going by yourself.”
Luke sighed, pushing himself off of the bench to approach him, hands reaching out to smooth out Jacaerys’ cloak.
“And who is going to tame that one wild curl that always does whatever it wants at the back of your head?”
Jacaerys winced when Luke gently tugged on said curl, setting it in its place, before the younger prince grinned at him through the reflection as the two of them stood in front of the mirror, Luke's shoulders slightly higher than Jacaerys'. He despised the fact that his younger brother was starting to overtake him in height. Jacaerys hoped that Joffrey would stay shorter than him.
“You look fine, Jace,” Luke assured him. “And even if a hair might be out of place, she will think it charming.”
Jacaerys decided against deeming that comment with an answer, instead straightening his shoulders.
“Let’s go then.”
The two brothers headed the the Great Hall and the closer they got, the louder the music became. Jacaerys tried not to pick on his clothes as they walked through the hallways, knowing he was just being antsy at this point. When they finally reached the threshold of the hall, the herald bowed to them both respectfully, waiting until the music quietened down, the guests looking at them.
“Presenting His Grace, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and his brother, Prince Lucerys Velaryon of House Targaryen!” the herald announced.
The guests all bowed, which Jacaerys and Lukereturned, before they were being led to their seats and Jacaerys tried not to stumble over his feet when he realized that Cregan had sat Luke to his right, whereas Jacaerys sat next to him.
Right next to you.
Jacaerys ignored Luke’s smirk as he sat down, and instead offered you a small smile.
“My lady.”
“Your grace.”
You sent him a conspiratorial smile, before your attention refocused to Cregan, who suddenly stood, lifting his chalice.
"Good evening, my dear guests. On this occasion, the celebration of my name day, I am deeply honored to be surrounded by such loyal friends, family, and allies. I thank everyone who made their long and burdensome journey to celebrate this day with me. Raise your cups, my friends, enjoy the festivities, the music and most importantly, the food. Now, let the feast begin!"
Everyone clapped as Cregan took his seat again, the lively music beginning to play. Immediately, people rose to occupy the dancefloor. You stayed seated, sipping on your wine and Jacaerys watched you out of the corner of his eye, reaching for his own wine, hoping it would ease his nerves. You looked pretty; wearing a dark red dress, the fabric seeming to melt against your skin like it was sown onto your body. Jacaerys tried to not let his gaze linger too much on your cleavage, which was tasteful, but still incredibly distracting. He couldn’t help but think how you and him seemed to be dressed to compliment each other.
“You look very beautiful,” Jacaerys blurted out. You turned to him, eyebrows risen in surprise and his cheeks reddened. “I apologize if it was too forward, I-”
“You look very handsome yourself,” you said, returning the favor with a grin. “At least I know what took you so long to get here.”
By now, Jacaerys was sure that the color of his face rivaled the color of your dress.
“Thank you,” he said, fingers tracing the stem of the chalice. “I try to look my best.”
“It is working in your favor, my prince,” you all but purred quietly, making Jacaerys grip his chalice so tightly, his knuckles turned white.
“Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Jacaerys pressed out, letting a small sigh pass his lips. “I apologize. I am usually more
 Composed,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he couldn’t help but feel like you were biting back a smile.
“And you’re not composed right now?”
“No. You
” he paused, letting go of the chalice, stretching his hand out. “You make me nervous.”
He dared to look up to you, searching for any sign of distaste, only to see your gaze focused on his hands, before you lifted your eyes to meet his.
“How?”
“You vex me.”
“In a good way, I hope.”
Jacaerys let out a breathless laughter, shaking his head. “In a very much not good way. This is not behavior befit for a crown prince.”
“Well, it’s just your luck that I have not a single idea of what behavior is befit for a crown prince,” you assured him, placing your hand on his, presumably to console him. It had quite the opposite reaction. “It is just me, you may speak freely.”
“I-” Jacaerys paused, his eyes darting around the countless of guests mingling in the Great Hall, the threat of a listening ear everywhere. “I cannot.”
You nodded in understanding, but Jacaerys could tell that his answer had disappointed you by the way you turned your head away from him. Silently, he cursed himself, feeling the desire for you coiling in his stomach, but unable to act on it.
For the rest of the night, Jacaerys tried to pick up the conversation with you again, and while you did speak with him, it seemed dull, like you were uninterested. He felt incredibly stupid, knowing he had messed up, but despite that, he couldn’t jump over his shadow to address the problem. So he didn’t. He pushed his disappointment in himself aside and tried his best to control the jealousy he felt whenever you accepted the dance of another man, acting like didn’t care at all, especially when Luke was watching, shaking his head.
Cregan was luckily too busy to entertain his guests to meddle, occasionally drawing Jacaerys into his side to clink their cups. Overall, (despite his personal failings) the celebration was a success. It was late in the night, nearing the hour of the wolf when Jacaerys finally retired to his chambers. He had dropped Luke off at his own chambers just before, his younger brother having one too many of the mulled wine and immediately dozing off in clothes.
Shutting the door with his foot, Jacaerys unpinned his cloak, tugging his doublet off, draping it over the small ottoman. His hands were in the collar of his tunic, ready to take it off when short raps on his door made him pause. Was that Cregan fetching him for another drink?
Jacaerys opened the door and his eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw who it was.
“My lady
”
You were standing in front of him, dark cloak slung around your shoulders, about the last person he had expected to come knocking on his door after his last conversation with you had gone. Your face was bare from any trace of cosmetics, but your cheeks still held a rosy glow. Jacaerys peered out into the dark hallway, expecting a handmaiden or anyone accompanying you, but alas, you were by yourself.
“It is late. Is something the matter?” he asked, concerned.
“Everything is fine,” you assured him. “I was feeling a bit restless, I was wondering if you were up for some company?”
Despite feeling exhausted just a few seconds ago, Jacaerys was wide awake now, his heart thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending time with you alone. But he couldn’t help but hesitate, questioning whether it was smart of him to put himself in a situation he couldn’t control, especially with you.
You sensed his hesitation, tilting your head curiously.
“I can leave, if you wish.”
Before you could even attempt to retreat, Jacaerys’ hand shot out to stop you, and as he saw the amusement on your face, he knew you had never intended to leave.
Minx, he thought to himself, opening his door wider to let you inside. Swiftly, you passed by him and Jacaerys made sure no one saw you enter, before shutting the door. As he turned around, he found you had already settled on the cushioned couch, appearing comfortably at ease.
“These are usually my chambers I stay in when I visit Winterfell,” you said nonchalantly, taking in the chambers and Jacaerys’ possessions that laid scattered around. “You can imagine my surprise when Cregan told me it was occupied for someone else when I arrived.”
Jacaerys tried not to imagine you laying in his bed as he sat down on the bench.
“They are the chambers I stayed in when I visited last time. I assume Cregan wanted me to feel comfortable.”
“The lengths we would go to to make sure you felt comfortable,” you said with a look in his direction and Jacaerys flushed, clearing his throat.
“Do you like these chambers for a reason or are you merely a creature of habit?”
“These are the only chambers that don’t have the fire place directly facing the bed,” you explained, your arms gesturing to the layout of the chambers.
“I know the Northeners like to keep the fire on at night to feel cozy, but I tend to get a little
 Hot.”
Oh.
His mouth ran a little dry and he only managed to blink at you, as you grinned, your eyes slowly trailing down his body.
“I imagine it is the same for you. What is it again, the motto of your house?”
Jacaerys opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out of it.
“Fire and blood?” finally pressed out and you arched an eyebrow at him.
“Are you asking or telling me?”
“Telling.”
Your mouth quirked up in a smirk and you brushed your hair back with a flick. “I must say, I have to admit that I thought you less nervous when no one was around.”
“You thought me less nervous when it is just you and I alone in a room?”
“Now when you say it like that
” you mused. “I told you that you do not have to worry about your behavior, I do not know any of the rules you have to abide by.”
“That’s not why I’m nervous,” Jacaerys said with a small laugh and you creased your forehead, looking at him questioningly.
“Is that not what you told me at supper?”
Jacaerys sighed, a chuckle leaving his lips and he had no other choice than to confess.
“You make me nervous because I do not know how to act around you. You make me stutter, lose my footing. I was never anything less than charming when it comes to talking to ladies, but you for some reason
”
Your face contorted from confusion to understanding and then glee.
“And I was starting to think you were letting me down easy.”
“I- what?” The indignation in Jacaerys’ tone made you laugh. “Let you down? Surely you must be jesting.”
“What was I to think? I was not exactly being subtle, my prince.”
Jacaerys bit down on his lower lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood, but he eased off.
“I’m trying my best to uphold my honor. And yours.”
You let out a small laugh, lifting your hand to deftly unhook your cloak. Jacaerys averted his eyes as soon as the cloak slid off your shoulders, but he could see out of the corner of his eyes that you were wearing nothing but a nightgown with long lacey sleeves. Jacaerys had never seen a nightgown like that before.
“Would it not be dishonorable to deny yourself what you truly want?”
Jacaerys dared to glance at you, swallowing thickly when he realized that you had come closer, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. He exhaled sharply, feeling his cock stirring in his breeches, thankful that his tunic was untucked, covering his excitement.
“What if your future husband would cast you aside knowing you have laid with another man?”
You smiled at him, your hand reaching out to trace the neckline of his tunic.
“I think if my husband were to cast me aside for enjoying the pleasure of sex, he is not the right man for me.”
Jacaerys held his breath as you looked at him through your lashes. He managed to stay strong for about three more seconds, before he let out a frustrated groan, his hand curling around to pull you close, pressing his lips on yours.
You sighed softly into the kiss, your mouth pliable as Jacaerys moved against them, the kiss nearly driving him insane.
He needed more.
Tightening his grip on your waist, Jacaerys pulled you into his lap, situating your legs on either side of him.
“I have been going insane,” Jacaerys whispered against your lips, his finger tips dancing up your arm. “Trying to keep my composure, act like a prince, but one look from you and I lost the ability to string a sentence together.”
“Please,” you gasped as his hand wrapped around the back of your head to tilt it back, placing featherlight kisses on the column of your neck.” Cregan was telling me to behave - for once - because his great friend, the crown prince of the Seven Realms was to attend his nameday celebrations, but how could I when you’re just so-”
Your sentence trailed off in a sigh and Jacaerys pulled back to look at you, an eyebrow arched.
“I am so...?”
“Infuriatingly handsome.” Your voice was breathless as you spoke, hands slipping under his tunic and Jacaerys lifted his arms to help you take it off before you discarded it to the floor carelessly. “Like you were carved out of marble.”
You caressed him with your fingertips over his chest, your touch so tantalizing he had to shift his hips to ease the pressure on his breeches, a motion that did not go unignored by you at the sound of the small whimper that left your mouth, a sound that went directly to his south. He leaned in to kiss you again, before maneuvering you off his lap, standing so he could lead you over to the bed. His touch was gentle, but firm as you followed his lead to lay down at the edge of the bed, your nightgown bunching up at your calves.
“You don’t even know the affect you have on me
 You had me on my knees,” he murmured, pushing your gown up. “I’m the crown prince of the seven realms. I don’t kneel for anyone.”
He might make an exception for you.
With his hands on your calves, pulling you closer, Jacaerys got to his knees, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh, making you squirm. He could smell the warmth of your musk as he neared your cunt, your smallclothes displaying a small patch of wetness he couldn’t help but be thrilled by.
“Lift your hips,” Jacaerys said, and when you did, he tugged your smallclothes off easily. He let out a soft breath when coming face to face with your cunt, sliding one finger through your folds. The moan out of your mouth sounded like heaven to him.
“Jace
” you sighed and his breeches got impossibly tighter, but he wanted you to finish first before he could even think about himself. Jacaerys applied a little pressure on your pearl with his thumb, inching closer, his breath hot on your lips before he licked a strip up your cunt. You responded with a small groan, your hands tangled into his locks and he knew he was on the right track.
He kept drawing circles on the small nub over your cunt, his tongue exploring between your folds, trying to elicit every moan and sigh out of your mouth possible, repeating his motions that seemed to please you the most. Soon, Jacaerys had you writhing on his bed, your hand tightened around his hair in a grip that nearly hurt, but he didn’t care.
“Jacaerys
” you breathed out, your hips lifting from the bed; he merely pushed it down with his free hand. “Don’t- I’m so..”
Jacaerys nuzzled his mouth even further into your cunt he not thought possible, the circles he was drawing onto your pearl becoming tighter, smaller until you let out an especially loud moan of his name, your cunt pulsating.
With a breath heave, you fell back into the cushions and Jacaerys pulled back from between your legs, not without leaving a lingering kiss on your inner thigh. You looked absolutely marvelous, blissed out on his bed, your sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. If he had to guess, he must not look any better, his entire face must be covered in you.
“Is this behavior befit for a crown prince?” you asked, chest still heaving. Jacaerys quirked a smile at you, brushing his hair back.
“For a lady like you, without question.”
A small laughter escaped your lips, and you tugged him down to kiss him, your hands slipping beneath his trousers and then his breeches, wrapping around his cock. Jacaerys hissed, bucking into your hands, realizing he was still fully clothes from the waist down. Giving you one last kiss, he reluctantly pulled away from you, taking his boots off, and then slowly pushing his trousers off, his smallclothes along with it.
He couldn’t help but flush as he stood in front of your inquisitive eyes, still wearing your nightgown but looking incredibly debauched, your gaze
 Hungry. He got on the bed, crawling towards you on his knees, fingers gingerly pushing your nightgown off your shoulders - you didn’t lift a hand to help him, but merely watched as his eyes grew wide when he finally pushed your nightgown down, as it pooled around your waist.
“You were made by the gods,” he mumbled into your skin, mouth latching on the sensitive skin of your tits, his other hand gently rolling your nipples until it formed into a stiff peak. He leaned up, kissing you deeply and as he moaned into your mouth, he pulled away, breathing hard.
“Do you
” he trailed off, unsure how to word it.
“I will die an immediate death if I don’t,” you said, extremely serious. “Lay back.”
As Jacaerys settled into the mountain of cushions, you knelt in front of him, nightgown long gone. You positioned yourself over his lap, just as he had earlier, hand wrapping around his cock to guide it to your cunt, which was still sopping wet. Jacaerys let out a slow, guttural groan as you lowered yourself onto his cock, until he was fully sheated inside of you.
“Are you feeling alright?” he pressed out, his hands finding your hips to pull out incase you were feeling uncomfortable.
“Perfect,” you breathed, lips parted and eyes hooded. You leaned a hand on his chest, impulsively rolling your hips and Jacaerys moaned, throwing his head back. Slowly, the two of you found your rhythm as you rode him, in slow, but deep hip thrusts. His chambers was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin, whispers of his name and moans of yours. It wasn’t long until Jacaerys felt the familiar tension in his lower stomach, knowing he was close, while you were still moving on top of him, head thrown back.
If he had it his way, he would shoot his load into you, making you his, but the last thing he wanted was to trap you, so he stilled your hips, holding you in place and turning you so he was on top of you. Your hair fanned out on the bed, and Jacaerys kissed you, tongue licking into your mouth as he drove his cock into you with deep, but slow thrusts; his thumb was pressing into your pearl simultaneously.
“Jace,” you whined, your walls clenching and he nearly lost it right then and there. “Please
”
Jacaerys snapped his hips into you harder, leaning his head against yours as he did and after one particular deep thrust, you held onto his bicep as you moaned his name in a way that would ingrain into his brain for the rest of his life and he quickly pulled out, before he emptied his load in thick, white spurts onto your stomach. With a small groan, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed next to you, neither speaking for a few seconds, catching your breath.
Jacaerys was the first to rise, pushing his hair back, standing to find a wet rag to clean you up. His touch was gentle as he cleaned your stomach, disposing of the dirty rag, lingering on the side of the bed.
“Do you want to stay? For a little while, at least?”
You turned your head to look at him, corners of your mouth tugging up. “If you’ll have me, my prince.”
Jacaerys snorted out a laughter, settling into bed next to you, making sure to pull up the blanket to cover your naked body, even though a warmth was emanating from you, it was rivaling his own.
“Are you sure you’re not a distant kin of Aegon the Conqueror?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “You would fit right into our house.”
“I find it very flattering that you think I have royal blood in me,” you laughed as your fingertips traced along his arm.
“It is only a question,” Jacaerys mused. “I think you would get along well with my mother.”
“A foreign girl in front of the esteemed queen of the Seven Realms? I wouldn’t stand a chance. Her royal knights would behead me as soon as I curtsied the wrong way.”
And as the fire crackled in the far corner of the chambers, pressed against your side, Jacaerys knew that while you spoke in jest, he wouldn’t mind you meeting his mother, even if that was highly unlikely. Coming the following morning it seemed like he would never see you again, with you returning home and him returning to King’s Landing.
And while he was a dragon rider, he wasn’t sure if that distance would be easy for him to cover, considering the fact he had duties he had to attend to, he couldn't just leave whenever he pleased, no matter how much he wanted to.
“I really enjoyed your company,” you then said, your voice a bittersweet tone. Jacaerys pressed his nose against your neck, biting back the question if you wanted to come with him, see King’s Landing. He knew he was being foolish.
“As did I yours.”
✩ .  âș   . ✩ .  âș   . ✩
author's note: hehehehehe did u like it?
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astonmartinii · 10 months ago
Text
reluctant cupid | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem bff!reader
you could set your bestie up with a driver or you could confess your feelings? lando norris is dumb.
based on this request: Could you write something about being best friends with lando and he tries to help set you up with another driver you have a crush on, but then he realises he actually likes you so he has to sabotage all the wingmanning he’s done and you end up together Idk if that makes sense đŸ˜­đŸ«¶đŸŒđŸ«¶đŸŒ -@mbappesleftthigh
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 49,340 others
yourusername: someone please save me from the grips of hinge and this oh so lonesome life
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user1: girl knows the whole f1 paddock and looks like that and is still alone there is NO HOPE for me
user2: this post might have thrown me over the edge
landonorris: "i'm so lonely" "why don't you approach that guy" "no too scary"
user3: that's so real though
yourusername: thank you!
landonorris: how do you expect to find a boyfriend when you don't like to talk to anyone and treat hinge like a gameshow
yourusername: i didn't come here for actual advice let me commiserate in peace. god, can women have anything these days?
landonorris: ???
yourusername: oh! idea! pretty please set me up with one of your friends? they have to be great otherwise you wouldn't be friends with them, right? RIGHT?
landonorris: i guess...
yourusername: please lando, i've never asked for anything before
landonorris: i can feel you pouting through the phone
yourusername: so you'll consider ?
landonorris: fine...
user4: bro either gotta admit his feelings now or be condemned to be in the plot of a weird romantic comedy
user5: i personally don't think i can wait until the third act break up with this side character LANDO ACT NOW
oscarpiastri: you'd really trust lando's judgement?
yourusername: he's friends with me, he's got good taste?
oscarpiastri: touche
maxverstappen1: whatever you really wanna say oscar, you gotta keep it in, these idiots will figure it out eventually
yourusername: ???
landonorris: ???
user6: the grid are so done with their asses i can't 😭
user7: but what if the universe doesn't intervene and lando really has just lost the girl forever?
user8: bestie we can't be thinking like this
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 812,047 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: being back home means being bothered by her (and whatever is her newest hyperfixation - it's sylvanian families this month if you couldn't tell)
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user9: i am so sorry but they are so in love
user10: it's cute in the movies, but these blind bitches are starting to piss me off
yourusername: THEY CAN HEAR YOU, BE A BETTER DAD
landonorris: they're not my children
yourusername: you take that back right now, you LOVE them
landonorris: you spent my money on them yes
yourusername: that's fatherhood, buddy. buckle up
user11: whoever he sets her up (if he's still dumb enough to do that) is gonna be the biggest third wheel in history
user12: who would willingly sign up for that
user13: me. i would. i have two working eyes and have seen y/n
maxverstappen1: who are these funky little critters and how can i procure some for p?
yourusername: finally a man with sense, literally any grocery store or toy store
maxverstappen1: perf
yourusername: if lando stops being mr. grumpy i'll ask him if i can come to a race and p and i can play animal families
landonorris: i am NOT mr. grumpy
maxverstappen1: you kinda are dude. is it the set-up is it stressing you out?
landonorris: nO
yourusername: then why are you putting it off !!! lando i might die from terminal yearning !!!
landonorris: i have an interested candidate
yourusername: really? do you think they'll actually like me? like this isn't a pity date right?
landonorris: nope!
user14: lando is typing through tears as we speak
user15: if y/n does go on a date with someone from the paddock i actually hope it goes well, as one lonely girl to another, it's tough out here we need one win
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f1wagupdates
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liked by user18, user19 and 11,043 others
tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55
f1wagupdates: turns out lando is a bit of a cupid as his childhood friend y/n y/ln was spotted out and about with carlos sainz.
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user20: HE ACTUALLY DID IT
user21: that moment when you're so down bad for a girl that you set her up with your best friend
user22: that moment when you're such a wimp you can't admit your feelings and set up the girl you like with a literal GREEK GOD
user23: i am so bamboozled by this move he literally looked like a kicked puppy on his stream bro this is your doing 😭
user24: she's a lover girl she's going to get her heart broken :(
user25: this has mess written all over it
user26: she's literally described herself as a terminal yearner i feel like she'll throw herself in and will get hurt
user27: UNLESS! this is all part of the plan? what if lando set her up with a messy guy like carlos so he can be the shoulder to cry on and that's how he slides in?
user28: that's very convoluted, very rom-com but i'll take it if it means we get lando and y/n together in the end
user29: i know this probably won't last long but can we all appreciate how hot this couple is?
user30: lando and y/n runs rings round y/n and carlos
user31: lol lando is a bad friend for setting her up with CARLOS him and charles are THEE red flags
user32: i hope y/n is prepared
user33: also lando hasn't thought it fully out if his plan is to be the shoulder to cry on because he's just opening her up to be called a homie hopper or a paddock bunny
carlossainz55
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 702,554 others
carlossainz55: productive weekend with my girl
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user34: well that's not y/n
user35: that finished faster than i expected
user36: lando DO NOT quit your day job
landonorris: call me bro
carlossainz55: si, cabron
user37: i don't think they'll be cabrons after this call
user38: maybe this is all just going to plan?
user39: yall gotta give up this conspiracy theory maybe these people are just as dumb and mean as they seem to be
user40: soooooo... what did we all do this weeekend?
user41: i broke a girl's heart @carlossainz55 twins đŸ‘Żâ€â™‚ïž
user42: AHHHH???
maxverstappen1: oh that's not-
yourusername: you're so chronically online :(
maxverstappen1: you're alive?
yourusername: yes. coming at you live from the bed i'm currently rotting in
maxverstappen1: not going to say i didn't warn you?
carlossainz55: really? in my own comment section?
yourusername: one second, we're having a conversation here
maxverstappen1: yeah carlos, gosh.
carlossainz55: i'm so confused
user43: okay power move to just start a conversation in his comments?
user44: the power of confusion is simply unmatched
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 56,309 others
yourusername: certified boy hater
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user45: a ferrari boy will do that to you
landonorris: feeling hashtag victimised rn
yourusername: obviously doesn't include you girlypop. but you seriously need to reevaluate your judgement
landonorris: carlos is attractive?
yourusername: he ghosted me?
carlossainz55: i am right here
yourusername: blocked.
landonorris: did you actually just block him?
yourusername: yes 😀 !
landonorris: god this is a nightmare
yourusername: not if you'd take a GOD DAMN HINT
landonorris: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?
user46: yall this is a public instagram comment section
user47: don't say that, this is their argument in the rain moment
user48: lemme grab the popcorn 🍿
maxverstappen1: this better not include the real number one girlypop here
yourusername: of course not pookie
oscarpiastri: you gonna continue the lil spat above this?
yourusername: no?
oscarpiastri: well some people (max and i) would like to listen so please continue
yourusername: no, i don't think i will
oscarpiastri: GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE INSUFFERABLE
maxverstappen1: what oscar said
user49: oscar and max are so real
user50: they can't leave us on this cliff hanger
landonorris
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,043,788 others
landonorris: some snaps from '23
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user51: have we just been thirst trapped?
user52: i don't think it was intended for us
user53: this has "i am hotter than carlos sainz" written all over it
yourusername: posting tits on main, brave.
landonorris: i came second in singapore.
yourusername: sureeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. modesty, ever heard of it lan?
landonorris: slutshaming isn't cute y/n
yourusername: you kinda have to pull to be a slut lan. you are under qualified for the position
landonorris: if you keep being mean to me i will call your mum or my mum.
yourusername: try it. i see cisca more than you, i have faith in her
landonorris: the line is busy. are you on the phone to MY mum right now?
yourusername: maybe.
user54: we're so close to them getting their heads out of their asses
user55: don't get my hopes up
danielricciardo: i hope this works lol
landonorris: you don't think i'm sexy?
danielricciardo: it doesn't matter what i think
landonorris: i'm not sexy :(
danielricciardo: you're baiting me but yes, you are sexy.
user56: i'll fight anyone who made this man believe he's not beautiful
liked by yourusername
user57: I SAW THAT 📾
user58: someone just lock them in a cupboard at this point
oscarpiastri: noted.
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 89,034 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: yeah, yeah. you can stop yelling at us now.
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user61: LET'S FUCKING GO
user62: it was worth all that yelling. i expect an invite to the wedding now.
user63: wedding? girly they only just realised their feelings after a DECADE
maxverstappen1: it was about fucking time
yourusername: okay miss ma'am. some people are EMOTIONALLY VULNERABLE AND NOT VERY GOOD AT PROCESSING THEM
maxverstappen1: you must've been emotionally constipated because this was painful
yourusername: it was painful for me too
maxverstappen1: so painful that you dated CARLOS
yourusername: one date! ONE!
maxverstappen1: carlos said can you unblock him so he can be mean to me?
yourusername: fine.
carlossainz55: STOP MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A BAD PERSON. YES I AM NOT THE BEST AT RELATIONSHIPS BUT LEAVE ME BE
maxverstappen1: lol
yourusername: lol
user64: unblocking carlos to hit him with the lol max and y/n might be more iconic than lando and y/n
landonorris: not on our relationship announcement post đŸ€š
user65: OOP.
landonorris: i love you doofus
yourusername: i love you too muppet
landonorris: how much was the betting pool for your family?
yourusername: it got to over ÂŁ300
landonorris: ours was ÂŁ750
yourusername: are we dumb?
landonorris: no!
oscarpiastri: two dumbass girls saying 'yass' to each other
yourusername: LEAVE US BE
landonorris: oscar :(
user66: not their own families betting on when they'd get together 😭
landonorris
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,430,778 others
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landonorris: first win, hopefully not my only one.
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user67: MY BABIES
user68: i feel like i've been on this journey with them
oscarpiastri: thank god you guys got your shit together, i was THIS close to jumping out the nearest window if i had to watch lando mope around like a kicked puppy when y/n had the lil thing with carlos
user69: so it wasn't some grand plan?
oscarpiastri: no he's just dumb enough to actually set up his first love with his best friend
landonorris: OSCAR!
oscarpiastri: am i wrong?
landonorris: no... but! i got there in the end
oscarpiastri: good thing you're faster on track
user70: the grid being just as done with them as us is killing me
maxfewtrell: finally this unnecessarily long and overly convoluted saga has come to and end, lets never do this again!
landonorris: i'm locked in for life bro no worries
yourusername: awwwwwwwwwwwwww i love you too bubs
maxfewtrell: stop being sappy under my comment
yourusername: you just complained we didn't sort out our shit fast enough and now we're too sappy?
landonorris: STICK TO A STORY BOZO
maxfewtrell: now you're even more ride or die... can we go back?
yourusername: nope!
landonorris: nope!
maxverstappen1: i for one am very happy for you both
yourusername: thank you max !!
landonorris: not so fast, he had the biggest bet on us in the paddock
yourusername: get that bag sis
landonorris: ???
yourusername: we can't fight it anymore, let them have their jokes, we actually have each other now :)
landonorris: yes we do :) xx
user71: golly gosh this is so fucking cute
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fin.
note: i hope this is what you were looking for and that you all enjoyed!! i'm just waiting on my tester sticker sheets for my small business @badlydrawnf1cats on here and on instagram, if you wanna give it a follow x tHANK YOU FOR READING MY LOVES X
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readychilledwine · 6 months ago
Note
hello!! please could i request one where the reader is an OG member of the IC and very close to azriel (she knows that he’s her mate, he doesn’t) and sister-like to the rest of the IC. once feyre and her sisters come about, she often confides with feyre so they’re also close.
anyway, there’s an important event for the reader on day and she expected the rest of the IC would join her (she invited them?) but no one turned up and she’s absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the end of the day.
when she’s back, everyone is together at the house having fun and one of them notices she so dressed up but looked exhausted. maybe someone says something snarky and there’s an argument. azriel defends the snarky person so reader and azriel have an argument (hurtful words towards the reader) and that’s when the mating bond snaps for az and he’s regretful. things happen but happy ending for the reader, az and the IC. thank you đŸ«¶đŸŒđŸ’—
Odd One Out
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Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.
Warnings - I warned you all to watch out for angst, right? Elain being catty, reader feeling lonely, Azriel being an idiot
A/N - I promise Bound by Fate is still coming. I'm just constantly rereading it and not happy with where it's at. It's probably because I needed this out of my system. I hope this is close enough to what you were looking for! It wrote itself, so I'm worried it may stray too far from the ask! Please let me know if it did.
✚ Azriel Masterlist✚
Odd One Out pt 2
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Maybe you had asked too much again. You looked to where the empty seats for the Inner Circle and Archeron sisters sat one last time before moving forward. You had worked too hard on this symphony to let this stop you. You were the last to go on stage, the conductor in her gorgeous sparkling gown and heels. You were the picture perfect face of composure as you bowed before turning and raising your hands.
You were introduced to Rhysand at a young age, and the two of you were quickly friends, so when he became High Lord, a place at his side was handed to you without question. You were eloquent, elegant, and kind. You were perfect for the position of emissary, and you single handedly won him friendships and alliances among every court aside from Spring.
He had never stopped you from pursuing passion, though. Your father had forced you into harp lessons from the tender age of 4 until his untimely death. He sat by your side for hours, teaching you to speak through letters written on a sheet that so fee could truly understand. It was an escape that turned into a career. One Rhysand specifically built the amphitheater you currently stood on for. The music you wrote woke emotion on the High Lord and all of Velaris, quickly making you one of the most popular females in the City of Starlight.
No one enjoyed your music more than Azriel's shadows, though. Nor did anyone enjoy you the way they did. How they knew you two were mates while he sat clueless and doting on Elain would never make sense to you, but the shadow turning your sheet music for you tonight was at least a small comfort, even if your family, mainly his master, was not here in their resevered High box seats.
You were exhausted when your arms lowered for the close of the show. You stood to the side, plastering a small faked smile on your graceful features as you held your arm to the orchestra, signaling for their bows before taking your own and leaving. You were the last one there, sharing thank yous and goodbyes as you musicians left. You chose to be alone for a while on the harp that sat in your sound room at the theater. You had a song in your mind, and you needed to let it speak before it left. Even if it was created from a place of raw emotion. It was near midnight when you finished, leaving the new composition to sit until you returned tomorrow.
You could hear the drunken laughter the second you walked into the old Riverhouse, the one you and Azriel made home as the mates of the Inner Circle began occupying the other houses, and signed as you removed your heels and picked them up into white tipped manicured nails. "Y/n!" Cassian's booming drunk voice slammed into you as he did. "Where have you been, baby?"
It was Nesta who gasped, looking at the clock on the wall before whispering a soft oh no as she saw your dress. Nesta who covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water as she shook her head and stared. Nesta who glared to Feyre.
"Why do you look so dolled up?" Rhys had a slight flush to his face, a wide smile as he took you in. "Hot date?"
You couldn't help but stare, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You all seriously don't remember." Rhys knitted his brow thinking, and his face slowly fell.
"Y/n Darling, I am-"
You put your hand up to him before he could finish, shaking your head as the tears actually fell. "Save it. Spare me your lies and excuses." Cassian looked to Nesta and then Rhys, his own face falling next as he remembered.
"The symphony."
"Was beautiful, regardless of my support system deciding wine and board games were more important than the first live art performance in Velaris since our high lord was captured." Your voice was shaking as you looked up, avoiding Hazel eyes that were wide in shock as every single ounce of heart ache you felt hit him.
The bond finally snaps, his shadows hissed. We've been reminding you all day. And now you've hurt our mate. Ours. We went. Where were you?
"Maybe if you were actually good at writing music, we would have remembered." Mor's glass of wine hit the floor as your breath stilled. Rhys felt his hands fall from Feyre's lap as she audibly said Elain's name in an insulted tone. Amren was immediately held back by Varian. "Obviously, if the people who you claim you're so important to did not see making time to go a priority, we did not miss much."
Cassian heard your breath shutter. You stared to Azriel, waiting for him to come to your defense and not realizing his silence was due to shock from the bond and Elain's sudden cattiness. "Very well. I see I am no longer wanted, and I will not stay where I am not wanted," the whisper was all anyone could hear as you turned and walked away. The door shut behind you, and as if the Mother truly hated you, rain began falling softly, and you made your way back to the amphitheater.
Azriel had never shoved someone off his lap as quickly as he did Elain in that moment. But it was Rhysand who spoke, "How. Dare. You." The High lord went to stand, grabbing his jacket. "When your sister was dying, I sent her y/n's music. The mobile you play for our son every night, is y/n's music. The music that plays in Hewn City is y/n's music. She is an essential part of my circle, my family. How dare you tell her that her passion, her joy, and her career mean nothing to us."
Azriel backed away from Elain. "Your true colors disgust me, Elain Archeron." He studied her, truly studied her for the first time as the door slammed shut following Rhysand's exit. "That is my friend, my closest friend. You just hurt her like it was nothing. Cut her so deeply you will never be able to repair it."
"Well, if she mattered so much you all would have remembered."
Feyre spoke then, between heavy sobs, "I wrote down the wrong date. I wrong down tomorrow night for opening night. We were going to take her to dinner. It was supposed to be Nyx's first concert. This is my fault."
"Again, proof it didn't matter." Elain sipped her white wine as if Feyre had all but solidified her opinion.
"Get out," the growl from Azriel took everyone by surprise. "Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here."
He was out the door, running to catch up to Rhysand in the rain, but missing the High Lord. He entered the amphitheater drenched and in silence, sitting next to where Rhysand was in the dark.
You were on stage playing violin as you always did when your heart was breaking. Every stroke of the strings had the bond growing tight before you dimmed it on your end, as if each movement of the bow, each note, was you whispering goodbye. "She told me she is leaving," Rhysand rubbed his face next to Azriel. It was then he saw the tears staining the perfect features of the High Lord. "She said this is my last performance before she leaves for Dawn."
"There's nothing we can do then?" Rhysand shook his head at the question before his head fell into his hands and his shoulders wrecked into sobs. "She's my mate."
"I know," Rhysand looked to the stars. "I've known for years. She never said anything, and now she never will. What little piece we had left is gone. Her light had been blown out by Elain's statements."
"Let me-"
"Just please stop talking and let me enjoy this."
It was the song he had sent Feyre under the mountain. A score that read of hope through pain.
And hope was all Azriel could hold on to as you stood and bowed, winnowing away as soon as you were finished.
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lovebugism · 9 months ago
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can i request angstâ˜čâ˜čshy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself
Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!đŸ«¶đŸŒ
ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”
A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.
Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 
Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just
 You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”
Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh
 Sorry—”
“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”
Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.
Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”
“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”
You nod once. “Right.”
The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”
“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 
Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.
His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You said she was talking a lot.”
“I said that I liked it!”
Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”
The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit
”
“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”
He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 
You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.
“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.
“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.
The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.
“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”
You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”
You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.
“I know,” you murmur.
“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”
Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just
 I’m normally super aware of
 when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just
 Excited, I guess.”
“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”
“Well, you make me happy
” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits
”
“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 
It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”
Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 
“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”
You melt.
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mattyriddlesbitch · 6 months ago
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Absolutely loving your writing!!!! đŸ«¶đŸŒ
Would it be possible to write something with Mattheo and he’s absolutely head over heels for another Slytherin in his friend group and she’s so head strong- will fuck up anyone who crosses her, has a bit of a temper and a mouth on her.
She ends up getting in fight with a bully and Mattheo has to pull her out of it and just ends up fucking the attitude out of her 😉😉
Maybe went slightly off script but I hope this works!
Temper
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, a little physical violence.
18+ Minors DNI!
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You had always been known for having a temper, everyone knew this and most people left you alone, not wanting to get on your bad side. But that didn’t seem to stop Danielle, a Ravenclaw in the same year as you who’s always acting like a bitch to you everytime she sees you. You two have gotten into many arguments, nearly getting physical with her when you’re pulled away but one of your friends, trying to tell you she isn’t worth it.
But this time, you were alone in the courtyard, working on some homework when she came up and started talking shit again. You knew what your friends were going to say, so you held back on physically hurting her, just insulting her back. That was until she brought your family into it, and suddenly you punched her in the face. She cussed at you, holding her nose before trying to punch you back, but you dodged and punched her again. Students were gathering around at this point, egging you guys on. You landed a kick on her before you were suddenly pulled away, arms around your waist lifting you up and carrying you out of the crowd and into the castle.
“Hey! Put me down!” You yelled at the person, kicking your legs against theirs.
“Stop that.” You heard Mattheo’s voice behind you and stopped kicking.
“Put me down, Mattheo!” You yelled, pulling at his arms,
“No.” He said and adjusted you to throw you over his shoulder instead.
“I hate you! Put me down!” You started pounding your fists on his back.
“Not very convincing, princess.” He chuckled.
You groaned and pouted, huffing in annoyance.
“Got some attitude today, huh, angel?”
“Shut up.”
He brought you into an empty classroom before setting you down.
“Why the fuck did you stop me?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
“You don’t need to fight.” Mattheo crossed his arms as well.
“That’s hypocritical of you.”
“I don’t want you hurt.”
“Still hypocritical.”
You could see his jaw clench before he grabbed your arms and turned you around, making you bend over a desk.
“What are you doing?” You yelled.
“Gonna fuck the attitude out of you.” He said as he bunched up your skirt, pulling your panties down.
“Mattheo-”
He interrupted you with a swat to your ass, causing you to yelp.
“Keep going. Keep up the attitude, princess.” His voice was laced with annoyance.
“I don’t have an atti-”
Another spank to your ass.
“Wanna keep going?” He asked, rubbing your ass where he spanked.
You groaned and gripped at the edge of the desk to contain your anger.
“That’s what I thought.” He said before slipping his fingers inside you. “Oh, princess, you’re soaked. You must like this more than you’re letting on.”
You bit back a moan, not wanting to give him any satisfaction from this.
He kept finger fucking you while using his free hand to undo his pants. He pulled his fingers out and used your arousal on his fingers to spread down his cock before stepping closer between your legs, putting his hands on the desk beside you to cage you in. His cock was sliding between your folds, teasing your clit and entrance.
“Beg for my cock, angel. I’ll make you feel so good.” He said as he leaned down to talk in your ear.
“I’m not begging.” You huffed.
He grabbed your hair with one hand, tugging your head back. “I won’t fuck you then. I’ll leave you here, all soaked and needy.”
You groaned again, debating on if you should beg or not. You didn’t wanna give him that satisfaction, but fuck were you desperate now.
“What are you gonna do, baby? Beg for me to fuck you or be stubborn and let me leave?” His cock was nudging at your entrance, just teasing you.
“Please fuck me, Mattheo.” You whined.
“Probably as good as I’m gonna get right now, huh?” He teased before pushing in.
You moaned, gripping at the table harder as he stretched you out.
“Fuck, princess, so fucking tight.” He moaned before starting to thrust. “You know I care about. It’s why I don’t want you getting into a fight and getting hurt.” He said, still gripping your hair. “Just need to get rid of this attitude. Maybe you won’t wanna fight anymore.” His other hand was gripping your hip tightly. “Maybe you’ll just want my cock. Could fuck you every time you’re angry, yeah? Would you like that?”
His cock was hitting so deep in you, making you moan loudly, barely registering his words, but you nodded anyways. “Yes, love that.”
“Fuck. I’ll get rid of your attitude all the time, angel. Fuck you so good, you can’t think of anything but my dick. Let me take care of everything else for you.” He was just rambling at this point, your pussy felt too good wrapped around him.
You just nodded along, crying out at his thrusts.
“No more attitude? Got you too fucked out on my cock already?” He chuckled. “You feel fucking perfect, princess. Fuck.” He let go of your hair to rub at your clit instead. “Gonna need you to cum for me. Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”
It took a few more thrusts and you were clenching his cock as you cried out his name, body shaking below him as he praised you. He rode out your orgasm before he came, filling you with his cum. He pulled out and lifted your panties back up.
“Want you to keep that in for me, yeah?” He said as he pulled you to stand back up and face him. He gave you a sweet kiss before you could answer, cupping your face gently.
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somejazzinthemorning · 1 year ago
Text
playing cupid.
Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan] Word Count: 9.7K
You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.
this was a request! always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something đŸ«¶đŸŒ
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“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.
Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.
“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.
“What?”
"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”
“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”
“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”
You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”
Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.
"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"
"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,
"Spit in your face."
His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”
"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."
And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what
? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.
"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.
Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”
You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.
The warmth of his body against you is comforting.
"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.
"You better.”
Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.
Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.
You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."
Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”
“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.
After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.
“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”
“What?”
Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."
It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.
He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.
And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.
You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.
Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.
But
 “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?
You were not expecting that at all.
The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.
Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.
That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.
Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has
 well, more than enough time to tell you everything.
"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."
"In that, he's absolutely right."
"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but
 Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."
You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.
But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.
“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.
"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."
"Doesn't he race this weekend?"
"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"
"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."
"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know
 I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”
“Noted. So, this weekend?”
“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”
You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”
Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.
Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.
hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back
But, yeah
 You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?
you: hm? no? hot wheels guy: why not? you: you went golfing with my dad!!! hot wheels guy: and? hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad? you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan? you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend? you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: stop being a brat you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird? you: YES !!!! hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t you: they will hot wheels guy: so you know what to do
Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.
And you were grateful for that.
The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.
Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.
However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.
You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your
 fuckbuddy’s dad.
There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.
Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.
“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."
You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."
"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."
And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.
you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us you: what do i do?
He takes a couple of hours to text back.
hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already? you: i tried to!
The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.
It’s a terrible schedule.
You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.
The perfect recipe for a restless night.
Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.
On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.
And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.
You’re not feeling it.
Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.
So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.
The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well
 you’re way past that.
As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.
Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.
As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.
Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say
 slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.
In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.
From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”
You take a deep breath.
Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.
"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”
“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.
Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”
In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.
“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”
"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”
A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.
“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."
Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.
“Should we?”
As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.
“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”
With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.
So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”
“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”
Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.
“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.
"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”
“No, and I don’t intend to.”
"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”
Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.
“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”
Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”
And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”
Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”
Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.
With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”
Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.
You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”
“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”
“And?”
“Play along. Let him have it.”
There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.
“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”
“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”
“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”
He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”
You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”
“Of course, I do,” he assures.
That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”
As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.
“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.
Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”
You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”
Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”
You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”
He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.
“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”
You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.
You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.
“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”
“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”
“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”
“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”
Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.
When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.
papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game? papà: no use in saying no papà: you already missed two weeks you: 🙄🙄🙄 you: i’ll meet you there!
You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.
“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.
It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.
“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like
 five days ago.”
Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”
“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”
Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”
Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”
"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."
“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”
Of. Course.
As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.
"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.
You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm getting radio silence from you—no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"
You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.
"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.
It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.
Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but
 it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?
You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.
"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."
“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”
He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.
"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.
"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."
He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"
"The dating thing. We're not dating."
"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.
You shake your head. "Nope."
"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.
The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.
Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well
 you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.
After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.
You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"
The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.
Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.
"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.
"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.
He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"
"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"
"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."
You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”
Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."
"Oh, God, you're such a prick."
He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"
You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.
"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"
You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.
"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”
"Good luck at those, then.”
“Really appreciate it.”
Yeah, so
. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.
And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.
It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.
Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.
Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.
Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.
As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.
And life happens for those two weeks.
It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.
And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.
“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.
Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.
And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.
After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.
For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.
Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.
Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.
Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?
But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.
You frown.
She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.
You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.
you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him? hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me you: well it actually does sound interesting hot wheels guy: so you’re coming? you: perhaps hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too? hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course hot wheels guy: and about me? you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution
One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.
“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.
“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”
A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.
“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”
“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.
He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.
When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.
Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.
You can get used to this.
You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.
According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.
You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.
It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.
But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.
So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.
Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.
This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.
There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.
The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.
"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.
Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.
“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”
Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.
The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.
And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.
Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.
“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.
And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.
This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.
The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.
Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.
“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”
You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.
“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”
Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."
Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.
"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.
And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.
“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"
You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."
A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.
“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."
Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.
It’s time.
"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."
Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."
“We’ve been
” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.
He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”
Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.
“That’s before—way before I
 introduced you.”
“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”
“Well, this is
 wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”
I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated. Thank you for the request! đŸ«¶
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heavenbarnes · 7 months ago
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I want older bf!simon so bad Jesus CHRIST!!!
Cuddling with him and showing him funny tiktoks (having to explain the context of each one in painstaking detail) before he fucks me within an inch of my life
it’s beyond a joke at this point, i actually NEED him đŸ«¶đŸŒ
the end of the day is the best with older bf!simon when you’re both in bed. he’s sat back against the headboard and you’re cuddled into his chest.
his hand is against your back, rubbing gently along your spine. your hand is against his stomach, resting on the bare skin as your scroll through your phone.
tiktok time, simon’s limited exposure to social media.
“so he’s singing in chinese because he doesn’t want to apologise to his girlfriend-“
“is that actually him singing?”
“well no, he’s lip syncing it’s just-“
“so he can’t actually sing in chinese? needs’ta ‘pologise to his-“
“ok next one, si”
it goes on like this, you explaining every single trend and every single meme to this man that views the internet like he was born yesterday.
“so it’s framing it like a competition about being cheated on-“
“terrible competition”
“yeah i know but it’s a joke, and khloe kardashian is there-“
“who’s that? the blue guy?”
“no, my love, thats squidward-“
and in the end you naturally end up on the nighttime side of tiktok and you’re getting one that says something stupid like “ladies try flashing your man when he’s had a long day” or whatever.
suddenly he understands tiktok like he might as well have invented it.
“y’dont do that for me”
your looking up at him under a quirked brow as you shrug, “let me know the next time you have a long day and i will”
you can feel his hand start creeping around under your shirt and you’re trying to hide the smile thats forming on your face as you lock your phone.
“had a long day, sweet’art”
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n6ptunova · 5 months ago
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could you maybe do a matt sleepy fic?💕💕
a/n: this is so cute ty for the requestt bae i hope i did it justice!đŸ«¶đŸŒ
warnings: none just fluff :)
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lazy days were pretty common with matt. nick and chris always poked fun at you guys calling you “boring”, but you loved every moment with your boyfriend, including the quiet ones.
some days you put on a romcom, eat snacks and laugh, cry, cringe at various parts of the movies. other days you just enjoy each other’s presence, bodies melting into each other- not in a sexual way- just very intimate.
usually you’re the small spoon, resting your head on his chest, one leg swung over him while he gently plays with your hair. you guys even have this silly little game where he traces his fingers on your back and you have to decode the message he wrote. his cold hands dragging softly across your skin sends shivers down your spine, making it hard to focus on what he’s writing.
“come on, baby, guess,” he chuckles, the sound travelling straight to your ear as if it has healing abilities (it does). you made a random guess and he giggles again. “nopeee, try again, loser.” you’ve taken multiple guesses at this point, and none of them were correct.
“you’re so bad at this, oh my god,” he teased you as you lightly smack his bare chest and tell him it’s your turn to write something.
although matt will never admit it, sometimes, he loves being the small spoon. i mean, what could be better than nestling his head into your neck, his hair tickling your chin as you scratch all the way from his head to his back. he’s in literal heaven.
on days when matt just wants to sleep all day, you’re a necessity. he literally cannot fall asleep without being in your arms lulled by the sound of your heartbeat. it’s so sweet but if you need to grab a snack or go to the bathroom, his grip tightens around you as he faintly mumbles, “nooo, stay with me.”
“matt, i need to pee, i promise i’ll be done quick baby,” he sighs, “let’s just stay in bed all day i’m sleepy, please?” his tired voice tugged on your heartstrings, how could you say no to that? you agreed on his plan with the condition that he lets you pee.
once you were back, he hums in contentment as he snuggles into you again, kissing your cheek and neck while he assumes his previous position. “talk to me.” that’s another thing, he lovess falling asleep to your voice. good god was he whipped. you do as he asked, rambling on about your day until eventually you both fall asleep and hibernate for the rest of the day like cute little bears in the winter.
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tags: @mattscoquette @et6rnalsun @sturnsxplr-25 @strlvvr @sturniluvr
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kitten4sannie · 2 months ago
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ateez and corruption kinks
 that’s it I just had to let that out into the void
communion
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pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)
summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um
.well
a religious object
)
a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption đŸ–€ physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33
p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie đŸ«¶đŸŒ
song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on
.)
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No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.
Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.
He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.
“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.
Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ
” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.
“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.
“Amen.”
Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”
You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.
“Oh, God, let His will be done
.” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So
nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity
” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit
”
Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full
so that I may take you inside properly
”
It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.
You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.
“What a thing of beauty
.” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.
“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”
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Apply for the taglist here ⇱ ♡
tags: @beomgyuspeach @breadpuddingboys @lucid-galaxys-world @mitchii @bvidzsoo @londonbridges01 @khjoongie98 @kyeos4ng @ane102 @jintastic-yuyu @laqueama-hwa
general tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @baguette-atiny
© kitten4sannie, 2024.
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hoshifighting · 7 days ago
Note
Hiiii! I was wondering if you could do a reaction of svt where the s/o gets in an argument with a man, and stands face to face proving their point to the guy ? And after svt just found it hot?
Thank you ! Take your time with everything, and just know I appreciate what you do!!đŸ«¶đŸŒ
seungcheol: standing tall right next to you, arms crossed and glaring, he lets you do your thing, but he’s this close to stepping in, just in case. he’s practically pulsing, both from the need to protect you and from the heat of watching you hold your ground. honestly, he’s getting turned on by the fire in your eyes. he keeps his cool on the outside, but on the inside? he’s a mess, ready to handle things himself, but also ready to handle you right after.
jeonghan: oh, he’s got no time for this dude. he’s so mad at the guy that he just grabs your hand and walks away, mumbling something about “saving the poor guy from humiliation.” but once you’re alone, he’s practically begging you to use that fire on him next.
joshua: he steps in halfway, putting an arm between you and the guy with a calm look, body language all possessive. he tries to gently calm you down, but he’s clearly enjoying your stance, looking at you like you’re the hottest thing he’s ever seen. every word you say just turns him on more—for more degrading they are.
junhui: just watching in awe, the longer it goes on, the more he’s biting his lip, looking you up and down like he’s in heat. after the argument, he wraps an arm around you, muttering about hot it was, you can bet he’ll remind you of this later.
hoshi: probably started the fight in the first place, either from saying something too loud or getting a bit too hyped. but once you step in and take over, he’s standing behind you, practically leaking cum in his pants. he’s grinning from seeing you put the guy in his place. he’s the type to lean in after and mutter, “remind me not to get on your bad side.”
wonwoo: he won’t let you get too close to the guy, immediately trying to guide you away, even if you’re still talking smack at the guy as he’s pulling you off. every time you keep arguing while he’s pulling you away, his cheeks flush, and he’s smiling to himself, already feeling the cock growing inside his pants. he’s both entertained and turned on, sneaking little glances at you as he thinks, “damn, that’s my partner. should i be proud or scared?”
woozi: he’s standing right behind you, fists clenched just in case, ready to step in if the guy even flinches wrong. but he’s also secretly smiling because he’s so damn proud. every time you fire back at the guy, woozi bites back a grin, watching the force in your posture. cant keep his hands off you by the time you walk away.
minghao: casually stands behind you, hands on your arms, his body pressed close as you argue, with a little smirk because he’s totally enjoying the show. he loves how fierce you are, and your ass pressing on him, it’s not doing him any favors. he whispers a “we’ll talk about this later,” already planning to scold you and make out with you the second you’re alone.
mingyu: he’s watching you like he doesn’t know whether to be afraid or turned on. even though he’s towering over the guy, he’s so flustered, shifting nervously between shield you and euphoria of seeing you all fired up. he can’t help but ask later, all red-faced, “could you, uh, maybe be that mad at me
 later?” definitely into the idea of you riding him while still a bit mad.
seokmin: is this really happening? he thinks. he just watches in awe, face redder by the second. after the argument, he’s pulling you close, trying to act calm but flustered. he’s stammering about how amazing you were, but also afraid to stress you more. “you know, babe
 that was, um, really hot.”
seungkwan: he’s fighting with you, no doubt. he’s already arguing with the guy, and you jumping in just fuels him more. after the argument, he’s all horny, both from the confrontation and the way you backed him up. rage sex is basically guaranteed.
vernon: he’s standing there, jaw dropped, just watching you handle things. he’s too stunned to move, his face saying it all: his cock is about to explode alone, no touch. he doesn’t say much afterward, but he’ll definitely be pulling you aside later, needy, unable to stop thinking about how godly insane you lookwd
chan: he’s shocked, honestly, but also totally in awe. his eyes are wide as he watches you lay into the guy, he can’t help but give a proud little smile, he’s got a newfound respect (and a little crush) on you afterwards. would be teasing you about how scary you were but secretly blushing because he’s hot to trot.
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moonstruckme · 8 months ago
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Hi! I would die for a poly!marauders x reader where reader gets a bloody nose and almost passes out. This has happened to me and I wish I had the boys 😅 of course only if this sounds interesting!! đŸ«¶đŸŒ
Thanks for requesting love!
cw: blood, near fainting
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 642 words
You’re mid-story when Remus’ expression shifts. 
“And he didn’t even
ask
” You trail off as James’ eyes flare suddenly. Remus is scanning the room like he’s searching for something. “...what?” 
“I’m just looking for the tissues
” 
You feel your expression crease.
“Don’t worry,” says Sirius, in a no-nonsense tone you don’t hear often. “Just pinch your nose shut and close your eyes, okay?” 
“What
” You touch your fingertips to your nose, and the second the bright red pads come into your view you’re overcome by a wave of nausea. 
“Don’t, don’t.” James takes your hand, bloody fingers and all, hiding them away. Your head fills with cotton. Remus gets up and goes into the kitchen. “Baby, that’s what we’re trying to keep from happening.” 
The feel of something splattering on your thigh has you looking down on instinct. You barely process the bead of blood curving down your thigh before your vision starts to blacken. 
“Okay.” A hand cups the back of your head, cold fingers pressing into your scalp as it takes your weight, and another pinches your nostrils. “None of that, doll, c’mon. You’re okay.” 
You blink a couple of times before the fuzzy darkness clears enough for you to see Sirius in front of you. He’s the picture of calm, while James’ eyes are magnified cartoonishly wide by his glasses. It takes you a second to figure out you need to breathe through your mouth. 
Sirius nods as you inhale. “Good,” he says. “Just keep your eyes on me, doll.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” James quips, and Sirius’ lips quirk but he doesn’t take his eyes from yours. 
“It’s a happy consequence.” 
“Sorry,” you say, voice sounding whiny all stuffed up. 
“You’re good,” James reassures you. “Rem’s gonna get you cleaned up in just a second. It seems we’ve misplaced the tissues.” 
“Found them!” Remus announces from down the hall. “Who put them under the bed?” 
You and Sirius look to James. He shrugs, sheepish. “That’s my bad,” he admits. “My allergies were bothering me, and I didn’t feel like getting up.” 
“Hoarder,” Sirius accuses fondly, letting go of your nose briefly to allow Remus to swipe at the skin beneath it. 
“Close your eyes,” Remus warns softly, and this time you listen before you can see the tissue. You feel him blot at your nostrils and then wipe up the blood on your hand and leg, keeping your eyes squeezed shut tight. “Good girl.” The lid of the trash bin clangs shut. “You can open now.” 
You replace Sirius’ hand with your own, and he gives you a cautious look as he lets go slowly. “You sure you’ve got it?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t mind.” 
You smile at him, closed-lipped and trying not to think about what you’re staunching. “I’m good, thanks.” 
Remus sits back down with a heavy sigh. James nods his agreement heartily. 
“Since when do you get nosebleeds?” he asks you. 
“Since now, I guess,” you say. “It’s not my new favorite thing.” 
You’ve always fainted at the sight of blood, so spontaneous bleeding is probably one of the top ten worst things that can happen to you. 
“It’s a bit worrisome,” Remus agrees. “What happens if you’re driving and your nose starts bleeding again? You can’t very well pass out behind the wheel.” 
You level him with a deadpan look. “I’ll try to refrain.” 
“It won’t happen again,” Sirius says surely. He’s eyeing you in a peculiar way, somehow both assessing and decided at once. “We’ll figure out what caused it, and make sure it doesn’t.” 
You look to Remus for an eye roll, but both of your boyfriends look about as trusting in this plan as Sirius. 
“How?” you ask. 
He gives you an indulgent smile. “Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.”
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puckinghischier · 3 months ago
Text
Mornings
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quinn hughes x fem!reader
WARNING - SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, basically smut with no plot
summary - quinn wakes up with a need to go slow n steady
notes - i have officially launched into writing for quinn and there’s no turning back now. i hope this is at least decent bc when it comes to writing smut, i feel like i’m always being too repetitive and not descriptive enough, so don’t yell at me if it’s bad đŸ«Ł. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always, happy reading!! đŸ«¶đŸŒ
request - soft morning sex with quinn
[2.3k]
Quinn has always been a morning person. He loves the feeling of being up before the sun, feeling like he has the world to himself. He loves being able to sneak out for a quick run, getting back in time to cook breakfast and make your coffee before you wake up. Sometimes he even loves just sitting beside of you as you sleep, reading or going over plays that he knows they’ll be working on in practice that day.
This morning? This morning he wants none of that. This morning he woke up to the sun peeking through the curtains of your shared room, way later than he intended, with one thing on his mind.
Forget a run, forget breakfast, forget hockey. All Quinn wanted this morning was you.
Last night the two of you attended a party hosted by the team at the rink. A fundraiser for some charity he can’t even remember at the moment.
What he can remember is the way you looked in your dress last night. From the second you walked out of your large walk-in closet yesterday, he wanted nothing more than to see the dress draped across the floor, but a few too many old fashions throughout the night caused an instant crash as soon as his head hit his pillow when the two of you got home last night.
His body very obviously didn’t forget how he felt last night, though. Which is very apparent right now.
Your body is slotted perfectly into his, his arms entrapping you and holding you as close to his body as he can. Even though you’re facing away from him, he can tell you’re not awake yet, your breaths steady and even. The observation made him think about having you just like that, slow and steady.
Readjusting his position, trying give a little relief to his aching dick, he hears your sharp inhale.
“Quinn, I haven’t even opened my eyes yet and you’re already horny and ready to go,” you grumble out, still half asleep.
Quinn lets out a low chuckle. “What can I say, baby? Can’t stop thinking about how good you looked last night.”
He brings his face down to give a light kiss to the back of your neck, bringing an arm up to move your sleep tousled hair over your shoulder.
You sigh at the feeling of his warm lips on your skin as they move away from your neck and down to your newly exposed shoulder.
Involuntarily, you scoot back to press your ass into him, causing a groan to ring out around you two.
“Don’t tease me now, baby, s’not nice,” he mumbles against your skin.
“Who says I’m teasing? Maybe I saw something I liked last night too,” you turn your body around to face him, hooking a leg over his hips, bringing your core closer to his.
His eyes lock onto yours, searching for any hint that you’re teasing him.
When he sees nothing but desire in your eyes, he closes the space between your lips, capturing yours in a searing kiss.
He grinds against you, tangling his hands in your hair. When he tries to deepen the kiss, you pull back in protest.
“I haven’t even brushed my teeth, let me go at least brush them before we do this,” you try to untangle yourself from his body, but his grip on you tightens, preventing you from moving further away.
“Not important,” he tells you, bringing you back in for another kiss.
This kiss was much slower than the first, the two of you simply savoring each other.
“Wanna take m’time with you,” Quinn mumbles against your lips, removing his hand from your hair to slip the strap of your silk tank top off of your shoulder.
Your response was a content sigh, feeling his hand slip under your tank top to fondle your breast.
“Just take it off, Q” you whisper, wanting the fabric gone.
He breaks the kiss long enough to remove your clothing, pressing his bare skin against your own.
You shift your position, laying your back flat on the bed and pulling him to hover over you.
Quinn lifts his head up, admiring your body, nothing but love in his eyes.
“You’re gorgeous, you know that? Don’t know how I ever got so lucky,” he speak softly, bringing a hand up to caress your stomach.
His words still make you blush, even after all this time. You move to bring your hands up to hide your flushed face.
“Nuh uh, no hiding that pretty face. Wanna see it always. Never wanna look at anything else,” he tells you, grabbing both of your hands in his large one, bringing them up to rest above your head. “Keep them there f’me, yeah?”
He trails the same hand down your body for a second time, this time letting it travel all the way down to the waistband of your shorts.
You gasp as he slides his hand under the waistband, his long fingers making contact with your clit.
“Especially wanna see your face when I’m doing this,” he slides his fingers down further, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. “God you’re soaking, baby. Guess I’m not the only one who woke up feeling needy.”
You inhale sharply, your mouth forming an ‘o’ when he slips a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out lazily.
“Can’t help it. You looked incredible in your suit last night. Even had a dream about it,” you gasped out, itching to thread your fingers through his hair, but keeping them above your head like he asked.
Quinn lets out a groan when he feels you clench around his fingers, bringing his thumb up to rub slow circles on your clit.
He notices your hands twitching as you squirm, deciding he wants to feel your hands on him.
“You can move your hands, pretty girl. Since you’re behaving so good,” he tells you as he adds another finger.
The second the words leave his mouth your hands are in his hair, tangling and twisting the strands around your fingers.
The strokes of his fingers are slow and steady, the pace driving you wild.
“Q, I need you. Need more,” you beg him.
“Uh-uh, told you I wanted to take my time with you. Need you to come nice and slow from my fingers before I give you anything else,” he picks up the pace just slightly.
You whine in protest, wanting to feel him.
Quinn circles your clit faster, but keeps the slow pace of his fingers. The contrast of the two paces causes the familiar knot to form deep in your stomach.
You remove one of your hands from Quinn’s hair to toy with your nipple, the added stimulation inching you closer and closer to your orgasm.
“There we go, get yourself there pretty girl,” Quinn rasps out, enjoying the sight of you underneath him.
His words aid in your impending release, always loving how vocal he is during sex.
He feels you clench around his fingers again, knowing you’re close to exploding.
“C’mon, just let go for me, baby. Show me how much you enjoy my fingers,” is all Quinn has to say before you’re seeing stars.
Your orgasm doesn’t match the slow motion of his fingers, your legs shaking as he rides you through the aftershocks.
Quinn removes his fingers from you, fully sitting up on his knees and bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean. The sight makes you fear another orgasm without even being touched.
As you lay there and recover for a few seconds, all you can think about is how badly you want to feel his dick inside of you.
“Please, Q, need to feel you inside of me,” you whine out, causing him to chuckle at your desperation.
“Well, who am I to deny a pretty girl what she wants?” he responds, lowering himself down to press a light kiss to your lips, moving a strand of hair out of your face.
You bring both hands up to rest on his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss, trying to show him just how badly you want him.
He meets your kiss with just as much enthusiasm, moving his hands to remove your shorts and underwear altogether.
You kick the pieces of clothing off of your feet, removing your hands from his neck to help him remove his own.
Once you’re both completely bare, you reach a hand down between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his hard dick, giving it a few strokes.
Quinn’s hips involuntarily buck forward, driving his cock further into your closed fist.
“Slow down, pretty girl. Told you I wanted to take my time with you. Won’t last if you keep touching me like this,” he grunts out, trying to keep some form of self-control.
He removes your hand from himself, replacing it with his own. He nudges your legs apart, bringing a finger to your entrance once again, collecting the arousal still dripping from you and spreading it around the tip of his dick, closing his eyes and shuddering at the feeling of your wetness on him.
“Remember, baby, slow and steady wins the race,” Quinn tells you as he guides himself into you inch by inch.
You cry out at the feeling, still sensitive from your first orgasm only minutes ago.
“Shit, you’re so tight. Always so tight,” Quinn hisses out, teeth clenched.
“Oh my god, Q, you feel so good. Needed this, needed you,” you whine, feeling every ridge and vein as he sets the torturous pace.
He brings his arms up to rest on either side of your head, going full missionary this morning.
Quinn pulls out completely each time before pushing back in, reminding himself with every stroke that he’s supposed to be going slow and savoring you.
“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this. Swear I’d stay here forever. Spend every second of every day between your legs like this. With my dick, my fingers, my mouth,” he tells you, earning a moan from you when you feel him twitch inside of you.
The slow, languid pace of his thrusts allows him to feel you in a way he’s usually too impatient for. He finds the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you, earning a moan that almost causes him to lose his composure.
“God, baby, can’t be making those noises like that. Gonna make me lose it,” he tells you, bringing a hand down to toy with your clit once again.
“Can’t help it. Feels too good. Need you to move faster,” you plead, loving the slowness but aching for relief.
He lowers his head, placing hot, open mouth kisses to your neck, keeping his current rhythm.
“Can’t. Enjoying this too much,” he mumbles against your damp skin.
Despite his words, you can feel him lose himself a bit, his thrusts getting just a little faster and sloppier.
All of a sudden he pulls out of you completely, removing his body from over yours. Up until this moment your eyes had been closed, but they snap open at the loss of contact.
Quinn sees your wide eyes and can practically see the whine of protest on your tongue, but he quickly brings himself to lay beside of you, pulling your body back into his.
“Don’t worry, sweet girl, just switching positions for a second,” he explains, lining himself up to your entrance once again, thrusting into you from behind as you lay on your side, opening yourself up to him with a leg slung over his own.
He keeps his same, slow strokes, but the new angle causes him to hit a place you’ve never known to exist until this moment.
“Swear I can feel you in my stomach, Q. Don’t stop. I’m so close,” you tell him, already feeling the coil tighten for the second time this morning.
The clench of your walls around his dick from this angle causes his balls to tighten, his own orgasm quickly approaching.
“Need you to let go before I can, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me, think you can get there again?” he kisses the back of your neck.
Meeting his thrusts, you reach behind you to grab his hand and bring it over to stimulate your clit, needing some relief on the throbbing bundle of nerves.
Quinn presses his fingers down on your clit, hard, causing the bubble to burst inside of you, coming harder than you even had the first time.
“Oh my god, Q, I-“ you get cut off by your own moans, unable to prevent your body from shaking, his fingers still moving on your clit, intensifying the release even further.
The clench of your spent pussy nearly prevents him from pulling his dick out of you to thrust back in, causing such a pleasurable feeling it trigger his own orgasm, hitting him harder than he think he’s ever come before.
His body goes rigid, freezing inside of you with a groan. As you start to come down from your own orgasm, the feeling of his release inside of you brings a new wave of pleasure, knowing you’re the only person that gets to experience this from him.
He stays lodged inside of you long after you’ve both come down from your highs, wanting to stay as close to you as he can possibly be.
You let your fingers stroke the arm that’s slung over your frame, his large hand resting against your stomach.
After a few more minutes he finally slides himself out of you, turning your body to face him, assuming your earlier positions.
He stares at you, admiring the post sex glow on your face with the sun shining through the curtains behind you.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask him, wrapping a piece of his hair around your finger, playing with the small curls around his ears.
“How much I love mornings,” he gives you the cheesy line, causing you to laugh so hard you shake the entire bed, causing a large grin to break out on his face, looking forward to spending every morning for the rest of his life with you.
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mommynott · 25 days ago
Note
I see you have requests open 😈
May I please ask for a Theo Nott MASKED death eater fic/blurb/whever-you-want where he's morally grey, dommy, and dirty talks MC. Plz, Thank Youuuu đŸ«¶đŸŒ Ily!
Hehehe
Anything for you Ashy đŸ–€
Hope you’ll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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Unmasked
Theodore Nott x Reader
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Summary: You find yourself in a
sticky situation after Theo comes back from detention early. But those fantasies of yours surely become a reality.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, dom!theo, deatheater!theo, mask kink, rough sex, edging, degrading, dom+sub, masturbating, PIV, choking, slight slapping, it’s Theo Nott destroying you with a little ✹spice✹ A college AU, Chars 18+
As you waited for Theo to complete his detention, you idly played with the green tassels on his bedspread. Your gaze wandered over to the wall where his Death Eater mask hung. It seemed to be staring at you, menacing as ever, and it brought back memories of the chaos and pain caused by the war. But there was something else too
a strange attraction to the dark, mysterious object. You wondered what it would be like to see Theo wearing it again.
But this thought wasn’t a first, no, you’ve had many thoughts of Theo wearing that silver-painted mask. And those thoughts were definitely far from innocent. Your dainty hand ran through the tassels once more before slowly going to your breast. The little squeeze you gave yourself causing a moan to set free from your lips. Fuck, stop. He’s your friend. But you couldn’t, not when IT hung right beside you, your eyes gleaming up to the mask.
Trailing down further, your fingers traced to the inside of your plaid skirt, slowly creeping to your damp panties. With ease, you lifted the cloth material, finding your needy little clit immediately. It was as if the mask took control, guiding you to the filthiest depths of your mind, wanting you to reach that sweet release. Your gaze remained locked on it, the sounds of your wetness, along with your moans only getting progressively louder as time went on.
You were lost in a space of bliss, the visual of the mask, the scent of Theo’s cologne on his bedsheets. It was almost too easy to get turned on. You picked up the pace, swirling your fingers around your swollen bud. But just as you were nearing the climax you yearned for, the door swung open. Being stuck in this euphoric state, you had no idea Theo had walked in early from his detention.
Theodore’s jaw dropped at the sight of you masturbating in his bed. But your eyes were glued up to something. That damn mask. He followed your gaze along the wall and when he noticed what exactly you were staring at, a smirk twitched on his lips. This was something out of a damn porno film because if he was honest he had always wanted to destroy you. Explore you. Please you. “Are you
”
His voice was firm and assertive, waiting to get your full attention before continuing his sentence. You gasped, your wide eyes stuck on him in embarrassment. What the actual fuck? How do explain myself? Your lips parted but no words could come out. Lost in a tranced mix of arousal and shame, you couldn’t find the right thing to say. Theo took another stride toward his bed.
“-Are you touching yourself
? In my bed?”
Theodore asked, his voice dripping with seduction. Almost as if it was the honeyed venom of a snake, coaxing you to keep on going. Your fingers slowly worked at your clit, your blissful stare up on his. “I-
Yes
” Gods-what the fuck was happening? He’s my friend. Your thoughts. Your body. Everything seemed to be spiraling.
“You didn’t come yet
let me-“ He cut himself off with a shake of his head. The sly and sinister smirk only seemed to grow wider while he took another step closer to you. His darkened gaze focused on your drenched little slit. “You know
I could always get you off
” Yes fucking please. He barred his teeth, your gaze shifting back up to the mask but only momentarily. But Theodore noticed this, only finding it all too amusing. This would be a fun fucking night.
“You
you want to-fuck
you want to do this?” Through your little whimpers, your fingers seemed to move faster, not even realizing what you were doing. “I’ve wanted to do this
.for a very
very long time, Tesoro.” The Italian rolled off of his tongue in a rugged manner. Hunger danced in his ocean eyes as he crawled onto his bed, one hand reaching up to grab the Death Eater mask. Wiggling it in front of you as if he was taunting you. But fuck, it was only fueling the feelings of arousal.
Theo slapped your pussy over your own hand, a yelp screeching from your mouth as you pulled your fingers away. “No
If you want to do this
we’re doing it my way.” He growled, nothing but dominance and assertiveness in his dilating pupils. “O-okay
understood.” You swallowed, watching his every move. Wanting to know what was next. Of course, you had heard the stories of Theodore in bed
but you were about to fucking experience it. First hand.
Setting the mask down on the bed, but only for a moment, Theo threw off his t-shirt, letting it fall beside the bed before grabbing the ominous mask. Slowly, he positioned it over his face, a loud huff coming from under it. He hadn’t put on this mask in ages. Not since the war. It was painted with terrible memories
but maybe
just maybe
this night could bring some light to it. A different perspective the slate object could see. Not just the bad but perhaps the good as well.
“Good fucking girl.” Theo was exhilarated already, his cock wanting to Burst through his grey sweatpants. He took his time, his hand trailing down your flesh. As he got further and further goosebumps pricked your skin. This was fucking it. Arriving at your pushed-over panties, he twirled them between his pointer finger and thumb before tearing them right off. The fantasy you always had of Theo wearing this mask as he had his way with you was finally becoming a reality.
The soaked lace was now a mangled bunch resting beside you. But you too were a fucking mess. Not just any mess
but tonight? Theo’s mess. His heavy hand slapped down across your wetness once more, causing your back to arch. “So fucking ready for me, hm?” He asked, his shadowy stare burning into you from under the mask. The metallics of it glowing under the dim lantern lamps. “Y-yes” you managed to choke out just as Theodore shoved two fingers inside of you.
“Gods
that little pussy is gripping my fingers-So fucking tight.” Theo spoke between his own groans while his fingers pumped in and out of you, doing a ‘come here’ motion. He was hitting places you never even knew existed, your nails clawing into his bed sheets as you took in this massive amount of pleasure he was providing you with. “I-
T-Theo...I’m so close.” A squeak came out followed by a sea of moans, squirming under his rough touch.
For a split second Theo thrusted his fingers faster, his lips curling into a dangerous grin before he removed his fingers out of you. “Not. Yet.” His tone was firm and assertive yet again, you bobbed your head while you caught your breath. But before you could utter a single word, he began again. “I told you
if you really want this
we’re doing it my way.” Your glossed-over eyes flickered up between his. The silver-painted mask seemed to darken with its own dominance. As if it was feeding off of Theodore’s energy.
“You finish when I say you can
.Understood?”
You could see his gaze narrow down at you from beneath the mask, hearing his breaths turn into muffled growls. “U-understood.” You slowly whispered, Theo shuffled his grey sweatpants off. But when your eyes dropped to his cock, you had to bite your lower lip to hide the gasp that wanted to escape. Fuck, he’s huge. A prideful smirk painted his face while he stroked his length slowly, the slight wet sounds of his precum coating it whole.
“C’mere.” With that, he grabbed your thighs, spreading them further apart before pulling you closer to him. Theo threw one leg over his shoulder, propping himself with one hand as the other teased the tip of his dick right on your slippery entrance. “I’m going to fucking destroy you, Tesoro.” He growled just as he slammed himself deep inside of you, immediately hitting you with a fast speed. Your once moans turning into sobs of pleasure.
Theo took his now free hand and wrapped it around your throat. Providing just enough pressure to make your mind go fuzzy with ecstasy. “You’re fucking-fucking huge!” With a stuttered cry your doe-eyed gaze remained glued up to your friend wearing the death eater mask, fucking you like it was his last time ever having sex. Gods
I have never been fucked like this. Why is it so
fucking amazing?
“Yeah? You like taking my cock, bella? Feeling all nice and full, huh?”
Again with the taunting but fuck did you love it. Feeling yourself progressively getting closer with each thrust Theo gave you. Slowly feeling your eyes roll into the back of your head before a domineering tone took you out of that brink of bliss. “Not fucking yet” He grunted, pounding into you even harder than before. “Hold on just a little while longer. I know you can fucking do it.”
How in the fuck am I supposed to hold back an orgasm? His hand that was wrapped around your neck began to get tighter, almost like it was a warning shot from Theodore. You could have sworn your nails were tearing up his bedspread with how hard you were digging into them. Feeling your legs tremble as they wrapped around his lower back.
“I
I don’t know how much longer-Fuck! How much longer I can hold on” Tears were pricking your eyes as you struggled to not reach climax, the blurry view of the mask in front of you only teasing you more. And under it? Theo’s shit-eating grin was only growing by the second. Thriving off of your submissive energy. “C’mon, pretty girl
just a little bit more
don’t disappoint me. I know you can hold it.”
You weren’t even quite sure if you could hold it, how in the fuck was he so confident that you could? But you complied, like a good fucking sub. And boy did Theo fucking adore that. His fingers trickled up your neck, to your jaw, before grazing his pointer and middle finger at the crease of your lush lips. “Open.” He demanded, your lips parting as he slowly moved them in and out of your mouth. Somehow managing to hush your moans.
“-Mmm
Theo..” you whimpered over his thick fingers while he completely lost it, railing you with great force. He could feel his own orgasm coming on as he watched your mascara drip down your face. Watching you fight your climax. The way his mask turned you on. The way HE turned you on. “Release, Cara Mia
cum all over my cock.” In a low growl, he removed his fingers, his thrusts only seemed to accelerate, even when you thought it was nearly impossible for them to do so.
That was it. The burning approval you had been waiting for
Yearning for. You didn’t even need to think about it. At those words, you felt your body convulse in an orgasmic state. Your screams bounced off of the stone walls in Theodore’s dorm room. Your legs only gripping tighter around his lower back. Hitting one of the most intense and blissful orgasms of your entire life. “Theo, oh m-“ He instantly cut you off, giving a soft smack across your face before grabbing your cheeks between his hand.
“Shut up and do it again
I know you have it in you.” He demanded, seeing his once light blue stare now black, his pupils fully dilated with arousal. Usually, you couldn’t finish with anyone, let alone someone ordering it out of you. But Theo
.Theo was different. “Fuck-I’m cumming!” You cried out, arching your neck against his now-warmed pillow. Feeling your juices flowing freely along Theodore’s giant length. Reaching your second orgasm within seconds. The power this man holds
that fucking mask

Theo’s ego was only growing, two orgasms in such a short amount of time? Pride washed throughout him. But just seeing you in the immense amount of pleasure he was giving you, you couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m going to fill up that pretty cunt.” He grunted, sliding both of his hands to your hips and getting a good grasp while he mercilessly pounded into you. His head tilted back just as you heard a low groan escape from his throat. His seed spilling deep inside of you, feeling his cock throb around your clenched walls.
Pulling out of you, Theo kept the mask on while catching his breath. His gaze dropping to his cum dripping out of your swollen pussy. With one hand, he lifted the mask off for a better view of it. Finding his seed leaking out of you insanely sexy. Marking you with his own sperm. Fuck. His hair was a mess while he smirked down at you. “You alright, Cara Mia?” He asked as he threw his sweats back on, grabbing a towel to clean you up.
You were dumbfounded, not even able to believe what had just happened. The mask he threw beside you almost seemed to have a smirk of its own. “Y-yeah, I’m good.” You spewed out in a breathy manner, feeling the afterglow hitting you, the sense of relaxation. Theodore took this time to grab a t-shirt of his, helping you dress in it before laying down next to you, tossing an arm around you to pull you close to him. Both of your body heat radiating off of one another.
“Anything you need at all?” He asked as he glanced down at the mask. A deep chuckle escaped his lips while he shook his head. “No
just you.” Your sweet smile was evident to Theo that you were In a submissive state. Causing him to press a lingering kiss to the side of your head. “Well
You have me
and the mask.” Teasing you, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. A smirk tugging on the edge of your lips.
“I suppose I do
but I prefer you
unmasked.”
The mask, a hidden desire of course, but it didn’t compare to Theo. As much as you enjoyed the sight of getting destroyed by a masked man, you enjoyed seeing his handsome face, his tired eyes, and his lazy smile much more. And this night? It only started a new chapter for the both of you. Nothing could compare to Theodore Nott. Absolutely nothing.
Love you so much AshđŸ–€
Divider is tagged in my master list🌙
Asks are always open for requests my smut sluts💋
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