#anyway spread this around if you’re interested!

[leftoverghosts]

the weight of it all

divorcelawyer!patrick zweig x divorcelawyer!wife!user

or, patrick teases you with a paperweight. nsfw teasing under the cut.

PLAY MY XMAS GAME AND REQUEST A BOT/BLURB HERE!

"I can’t believe you thought that was okay—what the hell were you thinking?" Patrick snarled.

Your heart raced as Patrick pressed against you, his rage palpable, as he stood between your spread thighs. You'd been arguing in circles, when he'd hoisted you onto the desk unceremoniously. "I was trying to do what's best for our client," you shot back, meeting his furious gaze. "Art deserves a fair settlement."

"Fair?" Patrick scoffed, his hot breath on your face. "You call handing over half his assets to that gold-digging bitch fair?" He slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the glass paperweight behind you. You glared at him, not appreciating how he referred to Tashi.

“Fuck you. Taking on this case was a conflict interest anyway.” You stood your ground, staring down your husband as if he were the most foolish man on Earth. The Donaldson's divorce was in danger of causing your own, and you had spent countless hours trying to untangle their messy assets.

Between this case and all the others, you and Patrick barely had time for anything other than work - let alone to release any of the pent up aggression building inside both of you due to lack of intimacy. You weren't nice when you were horny, and neither was he. "If you'd just listen to reason, you God damn moron-"

With a snarl, Patrick grabbed the heavy crystal paperweight and shoved it roughly between your legs. You gasped as the cold glass pressed against your most sensitive area through your panties. He moved it in slow, deliberate circles, glaring at you with a mix of anger and dark lust.

"Is this what you want?" he hissed. "You uptight cunt. You need to loosen up. You’re driving me crazy."

A moan escaped your lips as the smooth paperweight rubbed against your clit through the thin fabric. You were appalled at his crude actions but your body betrayed you, automatically grinding against the hard glass.

Patrick watched your face with grim satisfaction as he continued to torment you with the makeshift toy under your skirt. "Not so high and mighty now, are you?" he taunted. “Who’s a moron, baby?”

You hated how your body responded to Patrick's aggressive touch, but you couldn't deny the electric sparks of pleasure racing through you. The glass was unyielding against your sensitive flesh, stroking you in just the right way.

"Stop..." you whimpered, but your hips bucked traitorously against the object. Your panties were drenched, desire coiling hot and tight in your core.

Patrick leaned in close, lips brushing your ear as he spoke in a dark, honeyed voice. "You need this. Need to be put in your place." He increased the pressure and speed of the paperweight, the glass growing slick with your arousal.

A cry tore from your throat as the blunt tip found your aching entrance through the soaked fabric. Patrick nudged it rhythmically against your opening, teasing penetration. You clutched his shoulders, head thrown back, panting as he worked you into a frenzy.

"Beg me for it," Patrick commanded gruffly. "Beg me to fuck your bratty little cunt." He licked and nipped at your neck, marking you as his.

"Please..." you whined desperately. This was so wrong, so unprofessional. But the taboo of it all only heightened your arousal. Your hips rocked shamelessly as Patrick worked the paperweight faster.

"Fuck, look at you," he sneered. "You love this, don't you? Such a dirty little slut behind that prissy act. It’s not even inside you."

His filthy words sent you over the edge. You came hard, shuddering and muffling a cry against his shoulder as your cunt clenched around nothing. Patrick held the paperweight firmly against you, drawing out your climax until you stopped mewling.

Panting, you sagged against the desk, thoroughly debased. He set the paperweight down with a clink and straightened his tie, a smug look on his face.

"Now then," he said coolly, as if nothing had happened. "Let's discuss the settlement terms again, shall we? And this time, I expect you to see things my way."

Cheeks burning with humiliation and fading pleasure, you had no choice but to meekly nod. Patrick had won this battle. And you hated how much you'd enjoyed it.

[kylermalloy]

Hey Elricest fans! It’s never too early to think about a holiday like Valentine’s Day 💖

Submit your prompt suggestions here for the upcoming Valentine’s event celebrating our favorite brothers! It’ll be a full week of prompts leading up to February 14th. Safe for work AND not is allowed!

Prompt ideas can be simple things like “first kiss” or “coffee shop” or more detailed scenarios!

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session

Part Two

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole. 

Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.

When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.

Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual. 

A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated. 

Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.

But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.

You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.

You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.

A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift. 

Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you. 

“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you. 

“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear. 

“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response. 

“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.

But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.

Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.

“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.

“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”

You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule. 

“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option. 

You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.” 

“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle. 

Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.” 

You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction. 

Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.

Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.” 

“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.

Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.

“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.

“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck. 

His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself. 

When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life. 

Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex. 

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.

Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.

“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.

“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”

“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”

“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.

You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.

Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two. 

You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.

Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes. 

Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting. 

You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle. 

Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body. 

He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”

Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt. 

You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close. 

He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you. 

You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it. 

He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure. 

Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.

He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron. 

Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place. 

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.

“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.

“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in. 

Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.

He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.

You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with. 

“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever. 

You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up. 

Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace. 

“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope. 

The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.

You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”

You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”

Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you. 

“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek. 

Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.” 

When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt. 

A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.” 

Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.

“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.  

Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you. 

You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again. 

“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you. 

You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly. 

Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”

“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.” 

Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy. 

You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.

He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.

Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”

You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that? 

You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head. 

After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot. 

It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous. 

“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him. 

“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.

“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”

Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

[misaerabl]

Uncharted Territory

Older Sevika (you meet her at a club)

SUMMARY: After a night out at a club, you find yourself alone, drinking, when a confident, older woman approaches. She’s intriguing, magnetic, and before you know it, you’re at her penthouse. What started as a simple encounter soon leaves you questioning how you ended up here—and why you’re not ready to leave. WARNINGS: older sevika (she's twice your age), you meet at a club, drinking/intoxicated (?), strap riding, degrading nicknames, one night stand (?), modern setting, smut with plot A/N: first sevika fic, lowkey nervous

MINORS AND MEN DNI / word count : 2k

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The music thumps through the floor, bass vibrating up through your legs as you sit alone at the bar, a drink in hand. You’ve lost track of your friends—though, to be fair, it didn’t take long in a place this packed. A part of you thought about leaving, but the idea of going home to the same quiet routine felt unbearable. So here you are, sipping something bitter and fizzy, just trying to let go of the stress that's been clinging to you for weeks.

"Mind if I join you?"

The voice cuts through the haze of the music, low and smooth, laced with confidence. You glance over your shoulder and do a double take. She’s stunning—tall and broad-shouldered, with a sharp jawline that could probably cut glass. Her dark hair is cropped close, her suit tailored to perfection, and when she shifts, you catch a glimpse of a sleek prosthetic arm, gleaming under the club's neon lights.

You smirk despite yourself. “Depends. Are you buying?”

She lets out a soft laugh, the sound deep and warm. "Of course. What’s your poison?”

You glance at your nearly-empty glass, then shrug. “Surprise me.”

She signals the bartender, who nods like they know her, and you realize immediately that she’s a regular. Not just that, but someone important. It’s not just her appearance that screams money; it’s the way she carries herself, the ease with which she owns the space around her. The bartender sets down two crystal tumblers, something amber and expensive-looking swirling inside.

“Here,” she says, sliding one toward you. “Cheers to... being alone in a crowd.”

You clink glasses and take a sip. It’s smooth, smoky, and undeniably the best thing you’ve tasted all night. “Not bad,” you say, licking your lips. “I could get used to this.”

Her gaze lingers on you, an amused smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I like your style. You’ve got guts.”

“You don’t even know me,” you tease, leaning in slightly.

“Not yet.” Her eyes glint, and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or her sheer presence that’s making your head spin. “How old are you, anyway?”

The question catches you off guard, but you answer honestly. Her eyebrows lift slightly, and she lets out a low chuckle. “Well, this just got interesting. I’m old enough to be your... well, let’s just say twice your age.”

You shrug, smirking. “So? I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Her laughter rumbles over the music, and she shakes her head. “You’re trouble, aren’t you?”

You lean closer, your confidence bolstered by the drink and her attention. “Maybe. You like trouble?”

She raises her glass, tilting her head to study you. “You have no idea.”

Her words hang in the air, a challenge you’re more than willing to meet. The drink is warming you from the inside, but it’s her gaze, steady and unflinching, that’s really setting you on fire. You swirl the amber liquid in your glass, leaning in closer so she can hear you over the music.

“Maybe I’d like to find out,” you say, letting the words linger, daring her to respond.

She arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. “Careful,” she murmurs, her voice low and intimate. “You might bite off more than you can chew.”

You laugh softly, leaning your elbow on the bar, angling yourself toward her. “Maybe I’m hungry.”

Her gaze drops to your mouth for a split second, but you catch it, and the heat in your cheeks spreads through the rest of your body. She leans closer, the space between you shrinking, her scent—something smoky and clean—pulling you in.

“You don’t scare easily, do you?” she asks, her tone teasing but her eyes searching yours.

“Should I be scared?” you counter, matching her energy, holding her gaze like it’s a game you’re determined to win.

She chuckles, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you shiver—deep, rich, and full of something dangerous. “Depends. I don’t exactly come with a warning label, but maybe I should.”

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes at her playfully. “Sounds like you’ve got a story or two.”

“More than a few,” she admits, leaning back slightly, her prosthetic arm resting on the bar. The metal catches the light, sharp and sleek, like her. “But I’d rather hear yours.”

You take another sip of your drink, letting it bolster your courage. “You first. You look like someone who could write a novel just from the way you walked in here.”

She smirks, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. “Flattery won’t get you far,” she teases, but the sparkle in her eye tells you it already has. “But for you, I might make an exception.”

You grin, emboldened by her reaction. “Is that so? Guess I’d better make it worth your while, then.”

Her expression shifts slightly, her smile deepening, her eyes darker now. She leans in, her voice dropping to just above a whisper. “You’ve got a lot of confidence for someone so young. What makes you think you can keep up?”

Your breath catches, but you don’t falter. You meet her gaze head-on, the challenge sparking something reckless inside you. “Why don’t we find out?”

For a moment, she just watches you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she sets her glass down, her hand brushing yours as she does. The touch is deliberate, lingering, and it sends a jolt through you.

“You’re bold,” she says softly, her voice a mix of amusement and something heavier, something that makes your pulse race. “I like that.”

“Good,” you reply, barely above a whisper, leaning closer still. “Because I’m not done yet.”

Her smile widens, and the look she gives you is nothing short of predatory. “Neither am I.”

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The apartment is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern finishes, with a view that stretches for miles, the city glowing beneath you like a bed of stars. The air here is different—cool, but heavy with something you can’t quite place. You take a deep breath, feeling a bit out of place. This isn’t you. You don’t usually go to clubs, let alone lose your friends in the crowd. And you definitely don’t end up in some stranger’s penthouse, especially not someone who’s twice your age.

But here you are, sitting on a plush couch. She’s standing near the bar now, looking at you with that same confident, almost teasing smile, as if this is exactly how the night was supposed to go.

“Water,” she says casually, her voice smooth and almost too calm, like she’s read you perfectly. "You need it more than I do."

You chuckle, your fingers gripping the glass tighter than necessary as you take a sip, the cool liquid easing the dryness in your throat. You’re still processing—still trying to make sense of the fact that you’re here, with her. The older woman who seems to have effortlessly drawn you into her orbit. You’ve never been this spontaneous, never allowed yourself to follow a stranger back to their place.

"Not sure why I'm here, actually," you admit, meeting her gaze. "This isn't exactly my usual scene." The words come out sounding more uncertain than you intend, but the sharp, quiet energy she exudes makes it hard to feel anything other than... intrigued.

She steps closer, her eyes never leaving yours. “Then why’d you come?” Her voice drops just a fraction, like she’s trying to peel back whatever resistance you’re holding on to.

You hesitate, leaning back into the couch, your thoughts tangled. "I guess I just... wanted to see where this would go." You can’t exactly explain why you decided to leave your friends behind and come here with her, but there’s something magnetic about her, something that pulls you in even as you’re questioning your own decisions.

Her lips curl up into a knowing smile, the kind that suggests she already has all the answers. “Bold,” she murmurs, taking a seat beside you. Her proximity is warm, comfortable—too comfortable, and yet, you don’t move away. “I like that. You usually make decisions like this?”

You meet her gaze, the weight of her presence pressing down on you, and your chest tightens. “Not really. Guess I’m a little out of my element.”

She tilts her head, her eyes tracing over your face. “Maybe that’s a good thing.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice, but it’s more than that—there’s something in the way she looks at you, like she’s waiting for you to make the next move.

And suddenly, you’re not sure what comes next, but you’re not backing down either. Something about this feels too... captivating.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

She gripped your hips firmly, guiding your movements as you rocked together. Your head tilted back, eyes closed in pleasure, letting out loud breathless moans.

"So fucking gorgeous" She whispered, her eyes drinking in the sight of you, savoring every inch of you in it's full glory.

The coldness of her metal arm pressing you down felt oddly intoxicating. You couldn’t explain why, but it was like the perfect balance — the chill against the heat, like liquor to the drug that was Sevika.

Her other hand reached up, cupping your face with a firm yet tender grip, guiding your gaze to meet hers as you moved. "That's it," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Keep showing me that pretty face."

Her grip on your waist tightened, urging you to move faster. Your mind was a haze, emptied of everything except the overwhelming sensation and the way she consumed you entirely.

"You're my pretty whore aren't you, baby?" She purred, her voice dripping with dominance. The sound made a shiver run through you, all you could do was cry out a breathless, trembling "YES!"

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

You’d lost count of how many times you’d unraveled beneath her touch. Now, your face was buried in the pillow, breaths coming in shallow gasps as you surrendered completely.

She spread your folds with her fingers, licking them before they made contact on hour cunt. That shit sent waves through your body.

How could she make you feel this good? How could one night of indulgence shatter everything you thought you knew about yourself? You were supposed to be disciplined, grounded — yet here you were, in the bed of a woman whose age was closer to your mother’s than your own, surrendering to desires you didn’t even know you had.

She inserts two digits inside you, pumping her fingers fast inside your walls. As you gripped hard on the sheets, and screamed into the pillow, sevika took it as a chance to kiss your still dripping cunt.

The older woman pumped inside you as her tongue pampered your throbbing cunt. You were an absolute fucking mess for her — moaning, trembling, and falling apart completely. Whimpers spilled from your lips as your back arched, your ass higher on the air, every inch of you succumbing to her control.

If it were anyone else, the names she called you would’ve made your skin crawl. The degrading words—slut, whore, plaything—would have sent you running out the door without a second thought. But with Sevika? Somehow, they only made you melt further, igniting a fire within that left you craving more.

Everytime she spoke it's like your pussy got wetter, if that was even physically possible.

"God... harder, please." you pleaded, with desperation. The sound drew a low satisfied chuckle from her. You were so needy for her snd she absolutely loved every second of it.

Of course she obliged — how could she resist? She loved seeing you like this, completely undone beneath her touch, reveling in a way she made you feel so utterly and undeniably good.

A few more slow, deliberate thrusts and flicks of her tongue and fingers, you came again for what felt like the hundredth time that night, your body trembling with each wave of pleasure.

Safe to say, you had the best night of your life.

[aajjks]

Have A Baby By Me (m)

warnings: èxplïcït sèx, rïdïng hïs dïck, báby tràppïng, brèèdïng kínk, cöèrcátïôn, 18+ THÈMÈS, wràp ït bèfórè yôu táp ít, créàmpíe, yándèrè, èxplïcït thèmès, MDNÏ.

note: @looneybleus, I know it’s been so long but I finally got to finish this, forgive me if it’s shitty but I wrote this for you like you wanted 🥹🥹 ALSO SHARE FEEDBACK AND ENJOY! Ignore my mistakes. I’ll edit it later. I got sick. 💀♥️

note: Art by @/nada_ge on twt, this is not mine, cr to owner.

Geto just loves fucking you.

He loves being inside you, fucking you until his dick is aching and you’re full of his load. And now, he hates it when you’re on birth control,

He obviously hates wearing a condom.

And right now? He’s really fucking horny, he cannot stop thinking about fucking you raw, make you bounce on his dick the whole night and breed you like his little doll.

He’s sitting inside your shared bedroom, his shirt off, as he waits for you to finish changing, Geto is throbbing tonight, he will get a baby, he will make sure you get knocked up by him.

Because you’re such a good girl as well, Geto is so in love with you, he wants nothing more than to be with you forever and what is the best way to be with you forever than to have a baby with you?

He is waiting, eagerly. He’s freshly showered, his hair in a lazy bun as he stares at the LED. Even the TV is not interesting enough for him because he’s got some motives. He wants to fulfill tonight.

“Sweetie, where are you?” He suddenly asks, his voice a tad bit loud so you can hear him in the bathroom, he taps his feet on the marble flooring.

“Coming babe.”

He smirks, oh you definitely will be.

He smiles to himself, the thoughts only getting more intense in his mind, his patience is really wearing thin now you need to come here right now.

And it’s like God heard him because there you come all glory in pajamas, your face without any make up, but eyes freeze on you.

You are so beautiful, so pretty and so perfect, the sounds of your steps are enough to take his all of his attention.

“Hi princess.” Geto smiles lazily.

You give him your gorgeous smile, which makes you look 1000 times more pretty, and he pats his lap. “Why don’t you come here hmm?” He speaks in a low tone, his eyes filled with a haze.

A haze you recognize well.

You approach him, Geto wants nothing more than to feel your weight on him, he spreads his legs, “come on pretty girl.” He coos, you are definitely blushing now, as you slyly sit on his lap.

The weight of your ass on him is absolutely delicious, he groans. His arms immediately settling around your waist as he adjusts you.

“Better?” He questions, whispering in your ear like the good caring boyfriend that he is, you nod, and that’s when geto grabs your face and pulls you in for a slow kiss.

His lips move against yours, gently at first, as you register his advance, kidding him back, he enjoys and savors the warmth of your mouth on his.

The kiss only kicks away his sanity, oh he’s so horny. “Mhmm yeah, pretty girl, I really missed you today yknow?” He begins a decent conversation with you, after disconnecting your lips,

You begin talking with him, but all he’s focusing on is being inside you. “Hmm yeah, today wasn’t so eventful, anyways, yn.. let’s focus on the night shall we?” He caresses your face, his fingers tapping your cheek.

“You see? I’m really fuckin needy right now, I’m pretty sure you can feel it.” He winks, hinting at his boner pressing against your ass.

“You look so hot to me right now, please let me fuck you.” He pouts, his tone getting softer yet pleading, but his moves growing bolder, his lips find your neck, as he awaits your response, pressing open mouthed hot kisses against your neck.

He groans again as he takes in your scent, “mhmm fuck.” He moans, his hand sliding inside your shirt, his eyes darken when he realises you’re not wearing a bra.

He starts to tease your naked breast, “oh baby you’re such a naughty girl aren’t you?” His hips start to move, and that’s when you finally mutter a ‘yes’

Geto smiles wide, making you stand up as he immediately kicks his pants off. His muscular thighs soon unveil and throws the pants away.

“Straddle me.” Geto pushes his boxers off soon too, his hard erection painfully obvious, his cock hard and ready. “See that, ‘s all because of you.” He purrs.

“Come on baby ride me.” He takes your wrist and manages to lift you up by your hips, his fingers take off your pajamas and he practically rips your panties off, slamming you down on his cock.

And he cries out in pain, soon replaced by a sound of pleasure as he finds himself inside you, you moan in pain and surprise, “mhm fuck ‘m so sorry baby.”

He’s acting stupid right now.

“Fuck you geto ugh.”

“Yes please fuck me.”

He begs, his grip on your hips tightening as he waits for you to start,

A moan of ecstasy leaves his mouth as you begin to move, “mhmm oh fuck.” He’s always so vocal in the bedroom, he encourages you to go harder, faster.

“Please please please make me cum yn.” He whines, making your hips move faster using his hands to slam you down on his cock.

You moan, matching him as you both give into the pleasure, you settle your hands on his naked shoulders, Geto buries his head in your neck “oh baby mhm yeah please please keep g-going ugh.” He mewls, the feeling your hips slam down on him.

Your thrusts get more aggressive and it makes his eyes roll back. He’s going to cum soon, and inside you.

“Yn oh ngh- mhm.” He wants to kiss you so badly but his mind is frozen, too horny to actually think.

“My ugh- my love you always make me feel so good.” He kisses your neck, his tongue licking all over the skin, his hips bucking up, you keep on riding him.

You’re clenching around him so tightly it’s impossible to last.

“‘M gonna cum.” It’s all he says before he’s exploding inside you, his cum painting your insides white, his orgasm is strong and mind blowing.

The pleasure only intensifies more when he feels you cream all over him as well, you get so quiet during sex, it’s endearing.

His whole body is shaking as he rides the aftershocks, you both a panting mess.

He’s still inside you.

But what’s really got him panting is the knowledge that you’re not on birth control and you didn’t even realize that he just came inside you raw.

Geto smiles, kissing your neck again.

Soon, you’ll be pregnant because he will make sure.

“Oh you’re so good, mhm got me fucked up.” He moans against your neck. “We should continue this hm? This time I’ll be on top okay? I love you.”

Feeling satisfied and accomplished.

[sleep-0-deprived]

Before I start, I just wanna say I love your work, keep it up!!

A bit of a feminine m!reader and a stalker, kind of like the song stalker’s tango by autoheart (praise kink and anything you wanna add)

Love me love me love me~! (Stalker Oc x feminine male reader) ໒꒰ྀི˶˃ᆺ˂˶ ꒱ྀིა

WC:. 1.5k

Tags: praise kink, back shots, creepy character, dub con (reader doesn’t say but he wants it), stalking, spit as lube, men in panties, college AU, p in a sex, bad prepping(basically no prep cause he wants reader to feel em), slight Yandere themes?, coming inside panties, lil come play<33

A/N thanks for the request! I didn’t know your kinks so I tried to keep it pretty vanil for the fic but I just get the vibe that the stalker is a lil bit of a yandere ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

College was the time you were supposed to be the most happiest. freedom, no parents breathing down your neck and looking at you wearing your new skirts and finally away from Him…anyway this is the beginning of something new and that made you terrified excited.

Here you were grabbing boxes from the back of a hand me down car you bought last year, your hands full walking around campus searching for your dorm room. The sound of other college students bustling past even a frat boy running through the corridor laughing while another man smacks his shoulder.

Your heels clicking on the floors getting into the elevator finally out of view of the other students, not caring if they stared at you when you walked past them in your little skirt.

Finally finding your door room, room 234 in the third wing on campus. Pulling the door open and then it happens, the boxes nearly dropping from your hand “Jasper?..” the man that single handedly ruined your teen years, the man you filed a restraining order against- the one that stalked you since middle school, putting cameras inside your shower, under your bed.

There he stood in all his glory, black hair all messy with his green eyes piercing you over like an interested cat, a crooked grin on his lips looking at you like some god before him. You quickly sit your boxes down on the twin bed to the left of the room with your hands now by your side looking at him.

“Did you miss me any [name]? I really missed you, so goddamn much” he walks over to you leaning down and shoving his face into your neck breathing in your scent without a care in the world “how’d you find me Jasper…my parents made sure you didn’t know the colleges I applied for” your lips pressed into a thin line standing stiff and finding no comfort in the man’s touch.

“I total you I’d never leave you baby? Can’t live without you [name] I wouldn’t wanna” he kisses his way down grabbing at the hem of your shirt slipping under it and massaging his palms into your sides.

“Y’know I don’t want you Jasper, I never have so just stop” you mutter out all squeaky trying to get away even if your body knew you wanted it, even if you couldn’t deny you found him hot you’d never admit it so you did the next best thing and tried to push away but only failing in return.

“Don’t lie to me baby, you’re already getting hard so hard in that little skirt, it’s like you’re asking for me to fuck you?” His lips muffle themselves against your skin starting to suck it red while holding you pined between him and the wall while his second hand makes its way down to your mini skirt starting to lift it.

“Dammit Jasper… stop that” you speak out because you’re in to deep to say otherwise feeling your cock bulging in the pink panties you were wearing. You had no stockings under your skirt letting your bulge get exposed while you go red in the face feeling jaspers hand snaking down giving it a rough squeeze before pulling his lips off your neck breathing heavy in your ear.

“Just be a good boy and bend over for me sweetheart” you don’t know why but you walked over to your twin size bed, not even getting on it just bending over on the side of it and shoving your face into the sheets standing in a pair of heels spreading your thighs.

“Mh, baby so fucking beautiful, no idea how long I’ve been imagining this” he lifts your skirt in the back showing off the cotton fabric with little bows riding up between your cheeks making him smile reading his hands down and grabbing your cheeks spreading them and watching how your rim puckers up against the panties.

His thumb rubbing down your crack spitting on your panties and using his thumb to rub the now translucent fabric against your bud making sure to get it nice and wet while you lay with your cock weeping against the mattress feeling your knees buckle from the feeling.

“O-h you’re a pervert Jasper!” You yelp out and try to yell at him but fail when he reaches his hand off your ass cheek and grabs the back of your neck shoving it into the bed making your voice get muffled, “such a cruel accusation [name] I’m not perverse, I just love you baby?”

He’d coo to you from behind while the hand messing and teasing with your rim finally pulls your panties to the side of your ass just admiring how you’d clench around the air so effortlessly, your rim half prepped from all those nights you’d whine and finger yourself in your bed. Which of course he knew about back then, he had cameras?

“Want me to fuck it?” He’d ask you softly even though you knew he was going to fuck you either way “y-eah” you nod into the pillows gasping when he lets go of the back of your neck to undo his jeans making sure your skirt was pushed upwards on your waist, “you should really get a tramp stamp sweetheart, get me something all pretty to aim at when I’m coming all over that pretty arch”

Your face went red as a beat becoming more thankful he was behind you so he couldn’t see your reaction but he already knew it when your rim winked at him again trying to swallow his finger tip like quicksand having him all giddy and infatuated with you. Jasper having been waiting years to get his cock nuzzled between those perky little cheeks.

“So warm sweetie, just gonna fuck you so nice baby” his voice comes out rigid pulling his boxers down letting his manhood spring free finally standing tall against his t shirt before he presses his dick between your cheeks and uses his hands to grip both cheeks sandwiching his cock between them as he rocks his hips spitting down on your ass again using it as lube fucking between your cheeks having your face down and your ankles bending out in your heels.

“Just push in already Jasper, don’t fuckin tease me~” you moan reaching your hand down to your panties starting to palm yourself through the panties feeling yourself soaking the Cotten closing your eyes just feeling what’s happening to your body having you melting like ice cream during summer.

“Always a greedy boy weren’t you?…well doesn’t matter, still love you” he speaks nudging his pudgy cock head against your rim spreading the muscle open wide making him hiss “fuck that’s it sweetie” he tilts his head back rubbing your ass cheeks softly trying to get you to loosen up around him having him on cloud nine scrunching his nose up bottoming out inside you ready to come on the spot.

“Jas— oh’m g-od” you croak and choke on your words going loose and fuzzy in the head just laying with your ankle wobbling to stay bent in your heels just screwing your eyes shut only opening them with he gives your ass cheek a little smack letting you adjust to his girth. Jasper bucks his hips forward making your face droop back down as his hips squish your plump skin.

Your hands going limp like jello under you unable to palm your neglected cock, just laying with your body limp letting him have his way with you praying to whatever was up in the sky that other students didn’t hear Jasper giving you back-shots on your first day at campus. “You have no idea h’many nights I imagined getting myself inside your pretty body, mmh you’re worth the wait sweetheart”

You feel your rim on fire when his base stretches you wider making your back arch trying to take him, your cock jumps in your panties at his dirty praises having you in hysterics hating the man but also just wanting him to hold you close and fuck you like you deserve, you’d never tell him though. “You can start movin-!” You cry out arching under him gripping the bedsheets tight.

“Shh stay quite sweetheart, stay nice and sweet for me [name]” Jasper speaks softly moaning under his breath bucking his hips feeling a hot flash in his abdomen trying not to come before you but goddamn you were like heaven around him, you were his addiction, his ambrosia and he couldn’t get enough.

The sound of flesh in flesh filling up the dorm, his hands gliding over your body gripping the skin like a feral dog fucking you from behind having you reaching for the wall while the bed creaks shaking back and forth while your eyes open back up going wide and dumb when his cock assaults York inner walls hitting your sweet spot having you loosening up not clenching his cock so tight, jaspers hands pulling in your panties from behind making them tighter in the front, making your cock pulse against the firm fabric

“Please Jas, please just—“ you beg, you break you fold flush like a bad poker game not even knowing what you were pleading for just knowing you needed to come so bad your balls were swelling up going red in your panties about to explode when his cock halts pushing further and further against your prostate like a rubber band being stretched and pressed further and further about to snap.

“Please what sweetheart? Tell me what you want, promise I’ll give it to you” he speaks to you like a doll in complete opposites to how he was fucking you, his hands reaching letting go of your panties making you squeal from the release of pressure, he keeps fucking you thrusting and pumping his hips pressing his pubes to York lower back reaching up under you to your stomach to hold you up.

Holding you up half off the bed fucking you harder with your face still in the sheets and your hips raised high for him mewling feeling your favorite skirt go higher up on you. “Please make me cum, please get me off Jasper” you whine and you spasm around his dick. Your rim trying to take more until his balls press against yours, running together when he fucks into you.

“Come for me baby, just let go, lemme make it all better for you doll” his pace picks up fucking you like some jack rabbit in heat. His hands tugging at your belly leaning forwards leaning back down laying on top of you bent over the bed heaving in your ear kissing the red marks he made on your neck snaking one hand down inside your panties tugging on your cock.

“S’ happening jas, gonna come” you can’t help but to shiver and let go of the bedsheets arching your back against his stomach crying out wailing all cock drunk slurring your words while your cock pulses in his hand coming all inside your panties only further soiling them when the thick ropes leave your red cock head feeling like a release through your whole body having your balls relax a little once they’re fully emptied.

“There’s my good boy, I knew you were a sweetheart, just needed a little pounding to bring it out” Jasper kisses your neck sucking on the red marks using his canines to pinch the skin letting go York your cock and slamming into you harder becoming less in rhythm and more desperate to get off.

You can feel his balls drawling up when they press against your ass, his veins rubbing more prominent against your inner walls having you biting your bottom lip with your toes curling in your heels while he thrusts one more time inside you piling out with a loud gasp “o-h fuck [name] feel what you do to me?” He asks shuddering behind you fucking between your spit slick ass cheeks letting his cock nudge your rim but never actually pushing in.

The next thing you know hot ropes of cum pump out spewing all over your hole getting between your cheeks feeling the hot liquid running down your arch getting on your back and your skirt practically coating you like he meant it. “Thought you were pretty before but admit seeing you covered in my cum makes you even prettier”

He lifts his head from your neck whispering the words out to you before slipping his hands from under you and massaging the cum all over your body rubbing your cheeks down with it slipping two slickened fingers inside you again playing with you before pulling out.

“Let me have a date baby, I promise I can treat you so good, I’ll be so sweet to you I’ll be s’much better than your ex was” he whispers to you cooing like a snake in the garden of Eden ready to tempt you into his sinful world. “You’re fucking crazy Jasper” you huff lifting your head laying now lifting yourself up on your elbows with your body aching from the rough fucking you just took, his hand marks and imprints leaving your skin swollen.

“I’m only crazy for you, you’re the only man that makes me feel it…only wanna kiss N’ love, only wanna come on you sweetie”

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 3] Wedding Night

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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Mentions of Cannibalism, Smut, Slight Dub-Con, Virginity Loss, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Masturbation, Creampie, Slight Breeding Kink

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You swore that on the day of your wedding, you’d be the happiest woman alive. Being born a mere peasant and in a happy family gave you the option of marrying for love. But things change in the blink of an eye.

Neither of you really have families to do most of the wedding ceremony traditions, which cuts the wedding short. He has no interest in any of it, and you don’t feel any sort of joy while you commit yourself to one another. Perhaps you feel a twinge of satisfaction when you receive the title of Sukuna’s wife. 

If you die today, at least you won’t die as a nobody.

After the ceremony, he sends you away to your room. You’re not allowed to do anything even when you hold the title of his wife, at least not when your whims contradict his wishes. Therefore you’re left to sit in silence in your room, and you have no idea for how long you’ll be left in this state. He’ll visit you at night to get what he wants, and you still have a long way to go.

You’re staring off into space, your mind playing a filthy scene of how this will play out. He’s not going to be patient nor gentle, he definitely isn’t the kind. He’s going to fulfill his task and leave you seeking for pleasure once he’s finished. You aren’t expecting anything else, from what you’ve heard, men are selfish lovers. Though Sukuna isn’t exactly a man, you’re sure it applies to him.

“King Sukuna ordered for lady Kyoko to join you.” Uraume informs you before opening the door and letting the woman walk inside, not waiting for your response. She holds her head high when she walks into the room, wearing similar attirement as you. The servants don’t dare to look you in the eye anymore, the news that you’re the wife of Sukuna has spread, and they won’t dare test your authority.

Yet this woman isn’t scared of looking you in the eye, that’s all you need to know.  You have the authority of telling her to look down, but you have yet to find the voice.

“And who are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask her, wanting the confirmation that she’s been intimate with him before jumping to conclusions. There’s a hint of a smirk on her face, an aura of superiority around her. She sits directly across from you.

“One of King Sukuna’s dearest companions.” She sounds cocky, which gives you every answer that you need to know. “He told me to prepare you for tonight.”

“Right, of course.” You nod, feeling your face get warm. The cockiness goes away, and she gets serious as she begins to speak about Sukuna. She’s been ordered to tell you all you need to know for your first night with him, even though she clearly doesn’t want to speak about this.

You only hear about how to please him. You hear about everything you need to do to satisfy Sukuna, and how to handle two of them. You pick up on the jealousy as she explains everything, and it’s hard to ignore the way she glares at you.

You’re taking in every detail about her. She wears the makeup Sukuna expected you to wear last night: white powder, and red beni on her lips. The same makeup look that Uraume said made you look like a fool. 

“It’s not that hard, anyway.” She finishes. She’s staring you down, her eyes feel like they can burn a hole into you. Her gaze feels cold and nasty. “Though you don’t look like you can handle it.”

“I don’t think so either.” You don’t want to begin bickering and get on anyone’s bad side, even if you’re already her mortal enemy. You can’t lay it on thick. You look down at the ground, as if you were too ashamed to say it, “I’m not sure why he would pick me to carry his heir… Why didn’t Sukuna pick you, his dearest companion?”

“Sukuna? You dare call your king, Sukuna!” She yells, not really caring about anything else that has left your mouth. You dare call Sukuna merely by his name when you’re just a lowly human. “This should get your head rolling on the floor! No one calls King Sukuna simply Sukuna.”

“I understand your confusion… But I’m not just no one, I am his wife.” You correct her, fighting back on smiling as the words leave your lips. “I’m not sure either, we just met yesterday. He arranged a ceremony per my request this morning but it’s all too sudden.”

“His wife.” She scoffs, rising from her seat. A title that you don’t deserve, therefore she won’t acknowledge you as such. She doesn’t say anything else before exiting the room, leaving you to sit in silence once again. You could’ve handled the situation in a different manner, but regardless, you’re satisfied with your course of action.

“You’ll be having dinner with King Sukuna.” Uraume announces before promptly dragging you out of the room and where you’ll dine. You’re met with a long table filled with all kinds of foods, and your stomach growls, a hunger that you didn’t know you had, consuming you. Uraume takes you to the end of the table, the end that’s far away from all the food. “You must wait for him before getting your food.”

“Of course.” You nod in response. Every meal that you’ve been offered so far has been awful, but the food on the table makes your mouth water so perhaps the cooking changes when Sukuna is going to be present. “When will he show up?”

“He should be here soon.” Uraume tells you, before stepping away. The moment they step away, you hear the echo of his loud footsteps as he approaches the dining room.

He walks inside, sitting across from you and not even bothering to spare you a look before digging into the food. He’s taking it all for himself, and you’re too scared to even stretch your hand out. You’re too shy to ask for any food, but thankfully, you’re brought your own separate meal.

Your appetite dies down the moment your eyes look down at it… It’s very different from Sukuna’s. Either different people cooked your food or there was no effort put into yours. You try not to judge the food by its appearance, and take your first bite. You nearly gag when the food touches your tongue, but you try to remain polite and force yourself to chew then swallow.

“Is the food not to your liking? It looks like you’re being forced to swallow shit.” Sukuna speaks up, and you look at your plate in shame. 

“It’s bad.” You answer. He yells for the servants, and within seconds a group is gathered right before him. They’re on their knees, eyes staring at the floor in front of them, not daring to look up at him.

“Remake her food, and make it right this time.” He orders, and they respond in unison. The same response that Sukuna gets every time he speaks: Yes, king. Sukuna glances at you before glancing at the people that kneel before him. “Bring out the person that made the food.”

“What are you going to do to them?” You chime in, but you’re ignored. Your word doesn’t seem to matter when you’re speaking to Sukuna. He knows why you ask, and he doesn’t care enough. You’re bound to see some bloodshed eventually, you better start getting used to it.

“Uraume made the food.” He’s informed, and his opinion changes. He retracts his former statement, simply ordering that someone else makes it to your liking. He dismisses them, and continues to eat his food.

“Does Uraume make your meals?” You ask him, your question falling on deaf ears. It’s a situation where you speak when you’re spoken to, and he didn’t speak to you first.

“Kyoko came running to me, yelling how you disrespected me.” He brings up, and you raise your brows. Suddenly you begin to feel sweaty, nerves consuming you. “What did you exactly say about me?”

“I called you Sukuna instead of formally addressing you.” You confess, and you begin to think over and over again of how to begin your apology. But you know that an apology won’t be well received, so instead of saying anything else you look down at the table in complete and utter shame. “Which should be fine, no? We just got married.”

“It is fine.” He reassures you. “You have the power to be harsh. Don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarass you how?” You question. “Were you listening?”

“Don’t try to get under her skin, words won’t shed blood.” He ignores the question. “If someone dares disrespect you, you must make them pay.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to hurt your dearest companion.” You answer, and he scoffs. It’s clear that she thinks highly of herself when Sukuna couldn’t really care less about her.

“You said it yourself, I picked you instead of her.” He responds. “She’s not so dear to me if I chose a woman I just met over her.”

“Right… I’ll make her pay next time.” You nod your head, but you’re not going to do it. You aren’t going to make anyone shed blood because you aren’t like him. 

You hear your stomach growl as Sukuna continues to eat, and you can’t help but ask, “Can I taste?”

“Of course.” He doesn’t even waste a second before stretching his arm out in your direction, holding a bowl full of food. Before your chopsticks touch the food, Uraume comes into the dining room and speaks up,

“He’s a cannibal.” Which makes you freeze in your spot. You retract your hand, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. It now makes sense why he has a whole separate meal, and why his meal seems so tasty even if it’s made by the same person that cooks your food. It should be a more shocking confession, but you’re not surprised at all.

“Why’d you ruin my fun!” He yells, though he sounds more annoyed than angry. He’s ignored by Uraume, truly the only person who has that power. Instead of listening to him, they put your new plate of food in front of you.

“I’m so sorry the food wasn’t to your liking, my queen.” Uraume bows down before you, and you’re taken back by it. You’re not sure how to respond, it isn’t anything that warrants an apology in your eyes. “I didn’t make the meal, another servant did.”

“Bring them in.” Sukuna orders, and Uraume rises from the ground. They walk away and you’re about to dig into your new meal, but his voice stops you. “Don’t you dare.”

“It looks fine.” You answer. The food actually looks appetizing, and your hunger grows by the second. But he refuses to give you permission, and you won’t dare defy him. “Can I have just a taste? I’m hungry.”

He ignores you, tapping his finger on the table impatiently. Uraume finally walks back inside, dragging the woman that cooked your meal by her kimono.

“It was her.” Uraume speaks, as the woman bows down on the floor, not daring to raise her head. Sukuna lifts her up by the collar, while one of his hands reaches for your food. He forces her mouth open and stuffs her mouth.

“Chew.” He orders, and she’s trembling in fear. She forces herself to chew, too slow for his liking. “Hurry up and swallow.”

Once she swallows the food in her mouth, he tosses her aside and puts the plate right back in front of you. He stares at the woman for a minute before he finally asks, “Do you think that’s good enough for her to eat?”

“Yes, my king.” She almost hesitates, but she knows that hesitating won’t do her any good.

“You may eat.” He directs his attention to you, and you nod in response. You feel nervous for the woman that kneels before you. She’s around your age, probably here for similar reasons as you, and her life hangs by a thread. Even if you hate the food that’s in front of you, you’ll put on a smile and pretend that it’s the best meal you’ve ever eaten.

Luckily, you don’t have to fake anything because the food that touches your tongue is one of the best things that you’ve tasted. You tell him with a mouthful of food, “It’s so good.”

“Then she’ll be your servant.” Sukuna responds before standing up and walking away. Uraume follows, leaving you to look at her in confusion, though she doesn’t dare to lift her head. What exactly does that entail?

“What’s your name?” You ask her.

“Hina.”

“You can lift your head, Hina. I don’t bite. I’m not Sukuna.” You can’t help but chuckle. She slowly lifts her head, and she finally gets a good look at you. Her cheeks slowly get pink as she stares at you, and she averts her gaze. “Please keep me company, I’ve been dying to have a conversation with someone normal.”

You wait in your room the same way you did last night. Uraume got you ready again, changing your attire into something more fresh and with less layers. They realized that putting you in traditional attire is just going to be a waste of time and resources since they doubt that Sukuna will be gentle with the robes.

You feel more comfortable this time around, feeling like you can finally breathe. You’re ready for what awaits tonight. Kyoko wasn’t the nicest woman, but she explained everything well enough. You had an idea of what was waiting for you, but now you exactly know what the night has in store for you.

You hear the sound of his loud footsteps, and you feel your nerves building up. This time around you don’t tremble in fear. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before he gets to you. She told you it’d be quick, and while at first it’s going to be uncomfortable, what’s to come will also leave you craving for more.

He enters the room, eyes immediately glancing down at you. You rise, remembering what she told you: First, you must help him get undressed. But before your hand touches the fabric of his robe, his hand stops you. 

The simple touch awakens something in you. Your hand tries to break free from his grasp, but it won’t move. A new feeling consumes you, and the thought of feeling Sukuna in every sense doesn’t make you tremble– Quite the opposite, you want it. You want everything he has to offer.

You’re looking up at him, studying each and every one of his features. He looks unusual, though that doesn’t mean he looks bad. He’s handsome in his own way, at least more handsome than the many men that you’ve come across with.

“There’s no reason for you to be in a rush.” He tells you. No matter how hard you try to break free from his grasp, he can hold back all of your strength without breaking a sweat. “I’m not running away.”

His hand goes under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s smirking at you, knowing he’s about to ruin you. Two hands are trying to take off your robe, which isn’t a hard task but he grows impatient. You’re hearing the fabric rip, realizing that he’s getting straight to the point.

“Can you kiss me?” Your words make him freeze in his spot. It feels pathetic to say but if you don’t ask, he won’t do it. He rolls his eyes before leaning down and pecking your lips, pulling away quickly. He continues to tear down the fabric of your robe, until it’s on the floor. 

He saw you naked yesterday while you bathed, but you still can’t help but feel shy when you’re completely bare in front of him. You don’t have enough hands to cover yourself, and even if you tried, he’d tear them away. There’s no reason for you to feel shy, after all, he isn’t going to inspect your body and look for any flaws it might have. He gets straight to the point.

He lowers his head, lips kissing down your neck to your breasts. His lips feel tender on your skin, a sensation that you would have never imagined to come from Sukuna. A chill runs down your spine as you feel his tongue circle around your nipple. You weren’t warned about it, but you aren’t unhappy either.

You squeeze your legs together, an increasing sensation between them with each of his movements. His warm mouth takes in your nipple, harshly sucking as his hand fondles your other breast. He pinches your other nipple harshly, making a whine escape your lips.

Sukuna bites down before pulling away. He kisses the valley of your breasts before his tongue swipes over your neglected breast. Your mind focuses on how his tongue feels on your skin, that you almost miss one of his hands traveling down your stomach and to your pussy.

A breathy moan leaves your throat, your body getting overwhelmed with what he’s doing. You were expecting a lot tonight, just not this. Two very large fingers spread your folds, and as a reaction, your legs squeeze together. You swear you hear a low chuckle from him before he bites down your nipple once again. This time your whine is much louder.

“I’m going to have fun with you.” He’s amused with this. He nearly drops you to the ground, but luckily he puts his hand under your head before it touches the floor. He gets on his knees while his hands go to your legs, nails digging into your thighs. 

He puts your legs over his shoulders, and you hold your breath, knowing what’s to come. You expect him to take off his robe, and finally do what you’re expecting him to do. You’re clenching around nothing, your excitement radiating through your body. He doesn’t make an effort to get undressed though. 

“No one’s ever touched you here before, right?” He sounds cocky as two fingers run through the folds of your pussy. You bite down your lip before shaking your head, making a smug smile come to his face. He’s proud of it. “No one else will either.”

Sukuna has never been one to care for virginity or purity of any sorts when it comes to sleeping with other people– With you it’s different. He picked you for your innocence, and getting the chance to ruin you in every sense is thrilling for him. Knowing that he’s going to be your first and your last lover fulfills him.

“What–” You begin when he begins to lower his head, though you’re cut off by a breathy moan that leaves your lips as his tongue runs through your pussy. His tongue lays flat on your clit, and you feel your breath get caught up in your chest as an unfamiliar feeling overtakes your whole body.

His tongue flicks your clit, and your back arches, shutting your eyes as pleasure overtakes you. He’s yet to do anything, yet your mind is clouded with sex. Is this what you were worried about? You can’t help but mutter, “That’s so good.”

“Be loud.” He orders, pulling away from your pussy. His fingers take the place of his tongue, lazily circling your clit with little to no pressure. 

“What if someone hears?” You question, and he scoffs. He’s never heard a dumber question.

“What? That you’re my woman?” He responds, and you feel your face get even hotter than it already is. You talk as if Sukuna doesn’t control everything and everyone that resides in the place, he couldn’t care less if they hear what he does. “If it embarrasses you, I’ll kill them.”

“No– Ah!” His mouth goes back down, his warm lips going straight to your clit and sucking on it. You feel as two fingers run through your folds, gathering the slick that your body has produced, before he pushes his middle finger into you. 

It’s an uncomfortable new feeling, even if his whole finger isn’t inside of you. He’s kind enough to give you a moment before slowly piping his finger in and out of you. His head rises from between your legs and he tells you, “Relax.”

“Can you put your mouth there again?” You quickly ask, and just this once, he’ll please you. His tongue messily runs through your pussy before focusing on your clit once again, using the opportunity to push a second finger into your cunt. 

He curves his fingers in a manner that makes a loud moan escape your lips. You can’t hold yourself back when Sukuna worships your body. You were expecting the night to head in a very different direction with your given knowledge, but you couldn’t be more happy to be proven wrong.

“Sukuna!” You moan, as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. He takes his fingers out of your pussy, leaving them to clench around nothing but within seconds his tongue moves down to your entrance and he pushes it in. You feel his tongue move around, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. 

You look at him through heavy lids, your eyes shutting on their own as pleasure consumes you. He’s too focused on doing his task correctly to actually spare you a glance. You’d say that he’s enjoying this more than you are, but you quickly stop that train of thought. Sukuna isn’t the type to enjoy satisfying others.

Your voice gets caught up in your throat, your body becoming tense and your back arching as you reach the high that you’ve been told about– They always told you that you’d know when it would happen, and you never believed it. It’s an unmistakable feeling.

And just as you come down from that feeling, you realize that you’re getting to the part that you’ve been anticipating.

Your legs come off his shoulders, and Sukuna undoes his robe with such gentleness that your outfit sadly wasn’t met with. You swallow thickly, seeing his full body on display. You don’t consider yourself a greedy woman, but seeing him completely naked makes you want more. 

You need more. 

“Is it going to fit?” You can’t help but ask as your eyes land on the two dicks. One stacked on top of the other. They aren’t exactly small either.

“We’ll make it fit.” He says without thinking twice about it, and your thighs squeeze together. His palm goes to the front of your face and tells you, “Spit on it.”

You don’t have to be told twice before spitting on his hand. He uses your spit to coat his cocks before grabbing your legs, and wrapping them around his waist. Even when you see what awaits you, your desire and hunger for him grows. 

He takes his bottom cock into his hand, stroking it a couple of times before running it through your folds. You watch him bite down his lip as he slowly pushes himself inside of you. A whine leaves your lips, feeling uncomfortable as his cock stretches you out.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He says, waiting a second before he begins to thrust in and out of you. His eyes are nearly rolling to the back of his head, feeling too good as he feels you around him for the first time. He manages to remain stoic, as if this isn’t one of the best sensations that his body has felt in ages.

She was right, it is weird your first time, especially with how big Sukuna is. You’re too focused on this new feeling to allow yourself to feel any pleasure. But you’re sure of one thing, you’ll definitely be wanting more. With the way he’s made your body feel, you’ll definitely be begging him for more.

You watch as one of his hands begins to stroke the top dick, fulfilling his needs since he can’t expect much from you tonight.

“Sukuna…” You mutter, and you hear him groan as you say his name. You know he likes it.

“Say it again.” Sukuna is getting off at you saying his name. You feel a pair of fingers toying with your clit, and you feel that sensation once again. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as it consumes you.

“Fuck!” You loudly moan, instead of saying his name per his request. While he’s strict about people following his orders, he’ll let it slide this one time. He’s too lost in you to care about anything else.

“I’m going to fill you up with my child.” He tells you as his thrusts speed up. You’re squeezing even more around his cock, your second orgasm building up and washing over you quickly. “You’re going to give me my heir.”

He’s getting a little too rough for you, his thrusts becoming harsher by the second until he finally fills you with his seed. He gets you messy, his top cock making a mess and coating your stomach. He finally pulls out, leaving you empty. 

He’s taking deep breaths as he grabs your legs, bending your knees and bringing them to your chest. You’re too overwhelmed to say anything, and you know he isn’t one of many words.

He grabs his robe and puts it on once again, while you remain in the position he put you in. He doesn’t tell you anything until he’s finally dressed, practically out of the door,

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

[moonstruckme]

hi lovie!! i was wondering if i could request a poly marauders band au x reader smut (preferably fem, but gn is also fine!!) where james, sirius, and remus are rockstars and they have a gf who is very girly with like the pinks and mini skirts and bows y’know. i literally have no plot, just cute gf and poly marauders band au smut LOL. sorry if this sucks, but i am CRAVING more poly marauders band au fics on here so bad. thank so much if u do write it!! xoxo

Thank you for requesting <3

cw: smut mdni, fingering, praise, some voyerism

rockstar!marauders x coquette!reader ♡ 894 words

There aren’t very many doors that lock backstage. So while a lot of the time dating rockstars means fancy restaurants and first class flights and giant, plush hotel beds, sometimes it means being finger-fucked in a bathroom stall for lack of better options. 

“Angel,” James laughs, nose smushed against your cheek, “you know I love your sounds, but you’re going to have to be quieter than that.” 

You stifle a moan that turns into a whine. You’re honestly not sure how much of the work of keeping you upright is being done by your legs at this point, and how much is being done by James’ fingers buried in your cunt. You’re tugging anxiously on the curls at his nape, your own neck arching as you’re razed from within. 

James always has an excess of energy before shows. Lately, he’s found a new favorite way of working it off. Last week he’d dragged Remus into a storage closet, then last night Sirius had emerged from the boys’ dressing room looking even more rock-and-roll than usual, and tonight he’d plied you with kisses until the next thing you knew a stall door was being locked behind you and your panties were being pushed aside under your skirt. 

You suppress a moan as his thick fingers plunge deeper into your cunt, biting down on your bottom lip. Your fingers drive into his shoulders. 

James pushes your cardigan off your shoulder with his free hand, drawing the strap of your tank top down with it. “What do you need this for, hm?” 

“It’s always cold in here,” you manage. His hand finds your breast, squeezing the way he knows how. You push your forehead into his, and James smiles, giving you a conciliatory kiss. 

“Are you cold now?” 

You shake your head against his. He laughs, kissing you again. 

“Good.” You’re sure he’s the only thing keeping you up now, his hand under your skirt and your back propped against the wall. “Least I’m good for something, huh? I can keep my girl warm.” 

You have every intention of telling him he’s good for much more than that, as soon as you can find the words. You hear the bathroom door open before you get the chance. 

You go instantly quiet, covering your mouth with a hand and trying to steady your breathing, but James’ fingers keep moving in and out of you all the same. 

“James?” Remus calls. “You in here?” 

You sag with relief. 

“Yeah,” James says back. “S’it just you?” 

“Why?” Sirius’ voice rings with faux hurt. “Do you not want to see me?” 

“Just making sure.” James reaches over, unlocking your stall. 

“The stage manager’s got his knickers in a twist,” Sirius says as he opens the door. “He thinks you’ve run—oh. Hi, gorgeous.” 

You hide your face in James’ neck. You hear Remus chuckle as James rubs your back, half soothing you and half wrecking you as his fingers spread inside you. You make a stymied keening sound. 

“Do I need to go find him?” James asks. 

“No, probably not.” Sirius’ interest is palpable. You open your eyes to peek over James’ shoulder, and a wicked grin tilts his lips. “He seems like he’s just uptight. Having a good time, babydoll?” 

You imagine it’s a rhetorical question, but James’ fingers work another pleady whimper out of you anyway. Sirius’ eyes light, and Remus comes closer, kissing your bare shoulder. 

“Are you helping Jamie out, lovely girl?” 

“Think it’s the other way around,” you pant. James laughs. 

“No, make no mistake,” Sirius shoots you a wink, “this is one hundred percent selfish of him.” 

“‘nd I appreciate it.” James smears a kiss over your lips. “I would’ve liked to eat her out, but there wasn’t anywhere to put her down.” 

“I am not lying on the bathroom floor,” you say again, just in case he’s getting any ideas. It doesn’t sound very authoritative when your voice wobbles at the end of it, your orgasm looming. 

Remus coos, sensing your ascent. “You’ve got it,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder again. “You look so pretty all worked open like this. Doesn’t she look pretty, Sirius?” 

Sirius hums, giving you an appreciative up-down. “Yeah, you really ought to have known this would happen when you put on that skirt, sweet thing.” 

James grunts his agreement, and then you’re tipping over the edge. Remus helps keep you from slipping down to the bathroom floor as James brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. 

“There you are, good girl. That felt good, didn’t it, dove? Jamie?” 

“Fuck yeah,” James confirms. When your focus comes back to you, you can see the large, insistent bulge in his pants. 

“Here,” you mumble, reaching for his zipper. You start to drop to your knees, but Remus catches you, urging you back up. 

“I’ve got it, lovely,” he assures you. “So long as you don’t mind. That way Sirius can fix your hair before we have to go out.” 

You frown. “My hair?” You touch the back. It appears you’d lost track of things while you were being driven into the bathroom wall. Your bow is crumpled, your hair tangled around it. “Shit, how bad is it?” 

James offers you a half-sheepish grin. 

“It’s fine, baby.” Sirius takes you by the hand, leading you towards the mirror. “It’s rock and roll.”

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time His Older Brother Gave Him A Tarot Reading”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, reader is not present, Sukuna is pining hard

Word Count: 1.26k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna isn’t one to make time for his family. Although he has an identical twin brother who bothers him far too much for his liking and an older half brother, he almost never talks about them and spends even less time talking too them. But today he was feeling nice… which is strange for him, but regardless, he decided to agree to come by his brothers’ apartment.

And was quickly reminded of why he never comes over.

Sukuna was seated on the antique couch while Choso kneeled in front of the coffee table between them, flickering candles on every surface bathing the living room in a soft warm glow and reflecting on the shiny surfaces of the crystals placed meticulously all over the table. Choso opened up a small black box, pulling intricately designed tarot cards from inside and fanning them between his fingers before spreading them face down across the table.

Sukuna really was trying not to roll his eyes at the whole ordeal, but the man can only take so much before he’s bound to cave, “This is so stupid.”

“Shh…” Choso leans forward and presses his finger over Sukuna’s lips.

“Don’t touch me.” He grumbles.

“Shut up,” Choso loses his calm demeanor for only a second before he’s closing his eyes again, “I’m focusing.”

“On what?”

“I’m tuning in…” He wiggles his fingers over the cards, “to the energies.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sukuna rubs his temples, “When did you start doing this witchcraft shit again?”

“Not witchcraft,” Choso peeks one eye open to shoot a quick glare at his brother, “And yesterday.”

“Oh you’re a real professional huh?” He smirks down at him.

“Sukuna,” His shoulders slump and he lets out a frustrated huff, “Just, fucking shut up.”

The two of them squint as the lights suddenly flick on, Yuuji not quite getting the memo of what’s going on downstairs as he leans his head over the stair railing to peek into the living room, “Ooh, how’s the satanic ritual going?” He calls out from the stairway.

“Yuuji!” The two of them call out in unison. He lets out a little “Oops” and flicks the light back off, running back to his room upstairs.

Choso rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner onto his fingers, “Okay just, pick a card.”

Sukuna huffs out an annoyed breath, reaching forward and tapping his pointer finger on one of the cards in the middle. Choso slides the card down in front of Sukuna and flips it over, revealing an upside down picture of a man sitting upright in a bed with his head in his hands and swords neatly stacked on the wall behind him.

“Oh, interesting.” Choso mumbles.

“The fuck is he crying about?” Sukuna leans down and squints at the card on the table, “It’s upside down.”

“It’s reversed,” Choso clarifies, “The nine of swords reversed.”

“Choso, I don’t know what the hell that means.”

The long haired man sits up a little straighter, pointing at the card with a manicured finger, “This first card is your past. The next will be the present, and the last will be your future.” He picks the card up and scans it carefully, “You were… struggling, alone, not one to talk to others even when you need to-“

“What is this fuckin’ therapy?”

Choso groans and rolls his eyes, “God knows you need it, but no. Anyway,” He clears his throat, “You were in a downward spiral, but this is past tense, clearly you’re more open now considering,” He gestures vaguely around the room, “Well, you’re here for once.”

Sukuna is visibly annoyed, not a fan of being picked and prodded at. Choso places the card back down on the table, gesturing for Sukuna to pick another one, which to Choso’s surprise and for Sukuna’s morbid curiosity, he does; tapping his finger on a card pushed to the side of the table.

Choso flips the card over, and once again, it's upside down. It pictures a man sitting cross crossed in front of a tree, three golden goblets on the grass in front of him and a fourth being given to him from a disembodied hand floating next to him.

He’s really fuckin’ bad at organizing his cards.

Choso’s gaze flickers between Sukuna and the card, his brows furrowed in thought so clearly that you could almost see cogs turning behind his eyes, “Four of cups… reversed.”

“The hell does reversed mean?”

“It’s usually a negative version of the card’s meaning.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Oh fuckin’ lovely.”

Choso props his elbow onto the table, tracing the outline of the card with his finger, “You’re withdrawing-“

“Well yeah. No shit,” Sukuna cuts him off, “You’re telling me I’m cursed. What’s the damn card mean?”

“That is what the card means, idiot. You’re reluctant to open up to someone.”

Sukuna leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugs, “Maybe the future card will clarify.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs. Choso looks up at him with confusion, “I told you this was stupid, I’m not picking another.”

The light flicks on once again, Sukuna groans at the sound of Yuuji’s voice yelling from the stairway, “Sounds like someone’s a fucking pussy!”

“Yuuji, quit eavesdropping or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”

The light flicks back off.

Choso looks up at Sukuna expectantly, and after glaring down at him for a moment he breaks, rolling his eyes and flipping over a random card, “If it’s upside down I swear to fucking god-“

“Oh shit!”

“What?” Sukuna sounds almost startled, looking down at the card he sees that this one is upright; picturing a naked man and woman standing in front of some kind of angel. But he’s quickly able to gather the most damning part of the card.

The bottom of the card says “The Lovers.”

“Oh fuck off.”

A smile spreads across Choso’s face, “I don’t think I need to explain this one to you. And it’s not upside down.”

“Reversed.” Sukuna mockingly clarifies.

“Shut up,” Choso leans forward, grin still plastered on his lips, “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody, this shit isn’t real.” Sukuna scowls, but deep down he’s glad the room is so dark to hide the tint in his cheeks.

It’s not fucking real idiot. Stop it.

“How about this,” Choso clasps his hands together, looking up towards the ceiling, “If this shit is real, give us a sign.”

Yuuji flickers the lights.

“No! Stop interfering, this is serious!” Choso yells out towards the stairway.

But Sukuna’s blood runs cold as his phone buzzes in his pocket, quiet enough that no one could hear, but he could feel it.

It’s not real.

The room is silent for a moment as Choso scans for any type of sign, but it’s as if the world had completely stopped turning, not even the candles were flickering. Choso plops his head onto the coffee table, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

“Mhm.” Sukuna hums, putting up a disinterested front as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “Can we watch a movie or something now like a normal family?”

Choso defeatedly blows out the candles, collecting his crystals and placing his tarot cards neatly back into the box, “Fine, fine, but I still think it’s real.”

Sukuna’s heart nearly stops beating when he unlocks his phone and sees a text from you, “If u leave dirty dishes in the sink one more time I’m actually gonna kill u in your sleep.”

God I hope it’s fucking real.

A/N: Family bonding time has never been so awkward, anyway here’s that time Sukuna started to believe in magic, or witchcraft, or anything if it means you like him as much as he likes you. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

[drluvsick]

Hashiras x super cheerful excited golden retriever girlfriend PLSPSLSPSLPSLPSLS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Reader is sunny , always smiling , laughing , extroverted , very strangely optimistic ^_^

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐬

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o. 📝 ik the ask called for fem! reader but this can be read gn! as well. GOOSH I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO… ALSO i knew that if i just did this regularly for everyone it’d start becoming repetitive in each one, so i put them into categories first and then wrote down what might be different with each hashira— hence why some entries are pretty short. SORRY AGAIN!!

word count : 1.3k+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘉𝘌𝘚𝘛 — 𝘚𝘜𝘙𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘚

MATCHES your energy perfectly. absolutely loves the positive vibes, it makes their entire day and they live for it.

— rengoku, mitsuri, tengen (mostly)

FINDS it refreshing. the corps needs more people like you to make the negative energies of demon slaying wash away. may not completely match your energy, but it makes them happy no doubt to see you spreading that positivity (it’ll rub off on them soon enough if it hasn’t already).

— shinobu, obanai, gyomei

FOUND you annoying at first. absolutely thought you were stupid. though, in the end, they fell anyways without meaning to— soon finding your positivity and shining personality charming.

— sanemi

TREATS you like an any other day person they’d react with on a daily basis until you start spending more and more time with them, congrats! you’ve invaded their hearts.

— giyu, muichiro

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

— you distract him from everything. you’re always so bright and happy that whenever he’s around you he can’t help but smile and forget all his worries and stresses.

— he likes that this is your true personality, not just some act.

— definitely falls further in love when you defend him from other slayers who question his capabilities as hashira due to his lack of sight.

— AND HE WILL DEFEND YOU whenever he senses that you’re sad because of another person. he cannot stand to hear you feel upset. it’s one of the rare times he’s passively aggressive towards someone, he simply just cares for you so much.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

— finds you interesting. and when he spots an interesting person, you best believe he’s going to investigate.

— loves talking to you about nothing in particular, whether you’re leading or he’s leading the conversation it’s bound to be a unique and enlightening chat.

— ABSOLUTELY bedazzles you with some of his flashy items so that you’re positively shining in and out.

— sometimes when he’s just down in the dumps he may find your positivity annoying and will voice it, but he always backtracks when he sees your smile go a fraction lower.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

— this is a trope. it’s called extrovert x introvert. it’s also another trope called yapper x listener.

— you will spout out a whole paragraph or two about something and he’ll just give you a few nods to show he’s paying attention, maybe voicing his opinions once in a while with just a few words. but he’s definitely listening, after all, he loves hearing you speak.

— you go from just another person in his life to something way different, someone who recognizes him for something and doesn’t shun him like the others.

— he thinks that maybe—with you being a “look on the bright side,” kind of person—you’ll be able to see him from an angle that practically no one takes the time to see for themselves.

— he lets you hug him whenever you’re happy, but at the same time he hopes that you don’t hear his heart going a mile a second.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

— it’s funny, really; how fast his memories from way back when go to rest whenever you’re nearby, how immediate the thoughts of his scars disappear as you come into view.

— he admires your consistency to stay positive among the lifelong struggles in this job as a demon slayer.

— showed his scars to you early on after you convinced him that looks alone wouldn’t change your opinions on him. he’s so glad he did, because after some much needed pep talking he’s absolutely ecstatic. he can breathe easier around you now, taking off the bandages whenever he likes because you’re just that much of a comfort to him.

— possessive & protective, if someone’s making you sad they are DEAD MEAT. HIDE

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

— fell so hard. and he didn’t even notice it! that smooth road from hating you to loving you never crossed any speed bumps that let him figure it out, it just hit him one day.

— “you can’t find positivity in everything. you’re bound to wake up to reality somewhere along this line of work.” sanemi said this to help himself so that he’d never be so hurt by your eventual sad expressions from who knows what. the only thing it succeeded in doing was convince you to prove him wrong.

— has the prettiest color on his face when he blushes at you complimenting or being enthusiastic at spending time with him, even if you’re enthusiastic at spending time with every hashira.

— it’s funny cuz he’ll just go from being so aggressive and mean towards you to just one day out of the blue being unusually gentle and kind. you bet he’ll be the first one to beat up whoever makes you cry or help you with your problems, because even if this man doesn’t see it, he is absolutely WHIPPED.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎

— he just wants to hug you every time you’re around (and he does, with your consent of course)!

— two golden retrievers running around with no leashes and no restraints. everyone should be terrified

— he’s happy that there’s someone in the corps he can really talk to for days on end about anything if he’s ever looking for positive outlooks. someone who sees his point of views and matches his overly optimistic nature.

— gets a lil jealous when you’re like this around tengen but we shall not elaborate as he’s stomped those feelings down long ago

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

— LOVES your energy SO MUCH. it makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you talk and laugh around her; she feels wanted.

— your hype girl. she will absolutely cheer for you whenever you need it and she’ll squeal when you pay her back with hugs or compliments.

— she never seems to need any words or comfort from you whenever she’s sad, because every time you walk in her point of view she immediately lights up and her mood does a whole switch.

— clicked easily with you when you first got introduced, definitely love at first sight for her.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎

— she’s surprised at first at how happy you could be in this line of profession, but soon after spending some more time with you she understands. you’ve given her a new reason to be happy everyday and she cherishes her genuine happiness closely.

— she refrains from teasing you as she does with giyu, because unlike with him she can’t stand to see your smile break even a little bit.

— likes the positive role model you present to her patients, encouraging them that everything was going to be okay and uplifting all the moods of all the people you speak with in her estate.

— eventually her own smiles will mirror your unfeigned ones over time. she thanks you heavily for that.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

— aloof with you as he does with most others at first. doesn’t understand the point and why you want to spend time with him so much—why it’d bring you so much joy to be around him.

— eventually he learns to tolerate it which leads to his days feeling unusually empty without you. he subconsciously asks for more missions with you with reasons that don’t fully make sense, but they’re more believable than “i don’t want to be apart from them.”

— and then when he regains his memories and the fog from his head is lifted; he’s absolutely smiling every time you’re around. he still dazes out of conversations once in a while, but that’s only because he’s busy looking at you.

— he comes to full terms with himself and hugs you a lot (to the point where he’d been called clingy by tengen a few times). he’s so, so happy with you and hopes you never fall to the line of work that you both reside in.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[cowboybeepboop]

Kiss the chef 

 "Oh God...keep doing that..." 

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: Clark is your best friend, who you suspect of being Superman. 

a/n: Guys I’ve been like obsessed with writing but I have zero time 😔 it’s torture and I’m also running out of ideas for the names of each oneshot they’re getting crazy 😭 Also yes, I’m aware I shift perspectives a lot, thats a stylistic choice 👍

Clark hums softly as he moves around the kitchen area, his hands working diligently as he prepares dinner for the two of you. 

He glances over his shoulder, his eyes catching a sight of you lounging on the couch, completely engrossed in your phone, a smile forms on his lips as a gasp escapes yours.

"Almost done in here," he says, his voice laced with a hint of contentment. "You find anything interesting on there?"

He turns his attention back to the meal, stirring something in a pan on the stove while sneaking glances your way, curious to know what's capturing your focus.

“Actually, yes.” You reply, hopping up and joining him in the kitchen. “There’s new photos of Superman that were just released.” You gushed, he knows about your crush on the hero, yet doesn't know that you’re imagining him as Superman.

Clark quirks an eyebrow, a slight amused smile on his face as he pretends to be surprised at the news. 

"Really?" he says, feigning intrigue, not that he would need to fake it. "New photos, huh?"

He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him in the kitchen, the mention of Superman stirring something within him.

You lean against the counter, your eyes locked on the screen. “Mm, it smells good.” you murmur, setting your phone down and looking at the food he’s prepared, your mouth nearly watering at the sight.

"Thanks." Clark replies, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watches you eye the dish with appreciation. He glances in the direction of the screen, seeing a glimpse of the photos of Superman before returning his focus to you.

"Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." He teases, scooping up a spoonful of the food from the pan and offering it for you to taste.

You eagerly open your mouth, holding onto his wrist as you taste the flavor, you let out a satisfied noise. “It’s really good, like really good.”

Clark can't help but chuckle at the sound you make while tasting the food, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you hold onto his wrist. 

"I'm glad you like it." He says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I put a little extra love into it just for you."

He scoops up some more food and offers it again, watching your reaction intently.

You step closer, taking the spoon into your mouth again, enjoying the way he’s feeding you small bites. “I should hire you as my private chef.” You sigh, licking your lips as you look at the pot.

"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." Clark replies, his eyes following the movement of your tongue as it licks your lips. 

He sets the spoon down, then leans against the counter next to you, his arm casually resting next to yours. "Just imagine me cooking for you every night." He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Sounds like heaven to me.” You grin at him, reaching for your phone as the screen lights up.

"Heaven, huh?" Clark muses, he glances at the lit-up screen, the photo of Superman once again catching his eye. He clears his throat, trying to keep his composure. "So, uh, what's so special about these new photos anyway?"

“You can see all of his muscles..” you murmur, eyes fixated on the photos. “I mean they’re such high quality, just look.” You show him the screen, your cheeks flushed a slight pink.

Clark swallows the words and the photos you show him causing a stirring within him. He struggles to keep his expression neutral as his eyes flick between the screen and you.

"Yeah, they're really uh, really high quality." He clears his throat, his eyes lingering on the image, specifically the muscles you mentioned. "You really like this guy, don't you?"

You nod, turning your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket. “I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to meet him..” you shiver at the thought.

Clark's heart flutters at your words, a mix of guilt and amusement playing within him. He can't help but wonder what your reaction would be if you knew the truth.

"Meet him, huh?" He remarks, his voice low and a touch hesitant. "What would you even do if you ever met him?"

“I can think of a couple things,” you reply suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows for further effect.

Clark blushes slightly at your suggestive reply, a mix of flustered surprise and amusement on his face. He glances away for a moment, trying to regain his composure. 

"A couple things, huh?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Man of Steel has time for...whatever it is you're thinking."

“Every man has time for..” you grin, “What I’m thinking of.” Clark's blush deepens at your response, his heart skipping a beat. 

He scratches the back of his head, trying to remain cool and collected, though he can't entirely hide the effect your words have on him.

"Uh, yeah, well," he stammers, a bit of nervous energy in his voice. "I'm sure the Man of Steel has much bigger priorities than...meeting fans and fulfilling...fantasies."

“Maybe.. Or maybe he has all the time for his eager fangirls.” You pull your hair into a ponytail, slyly exposing your nape to him as you notice how flustered he's becoming.

A wave of heat washes over Clark as you expose your nape to him, and he struggles to keep his composure. His eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of desire and restraint.

"Eager fangirls, huh?" he teases, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "You certainly seem eager enough."

You giggle, watching as he turns off the stove. “I do, don’t I?”

Clark tries to ignore the way your giggle sends a shiver down his spine, turning his attention back to the stove instead. He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering.

"You certainly do," he replies, his voice slightly strained. "And I have a feeling you're pretty relentless too."

“You know it.” Your grin grows as he plates the food, grabbing both in his hands as he leads you back to the living room. Clark balances the plates as he moves, he places them on the coffee table, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way your grin makes his heart race.

"Should we watch something? A movie perhaps?” he clears his throat as he changes the topic.

“Mm.. yeah, you pick what we watch.” You settle on the floor in front of the couch, your back pressing against his knee.

Clark can't help but savor the feeling of your back against his knee, a mix of contentment and desire swirling within him. He grabs the remote, flipping through possible options but not really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied with the proximity of you and your intoxicating scent.

"How about, uh..." He struggles to think of a suitable movie as he glances down at you, his heart rate increasing. "How about that one?" he points to a movie at random.

“Sounds good.” You agree, focused on the food in front of you.

Clark tries to focus on the movie as it plays, but his attention is constantly drawn to you, the way you sit, the way you eat, the way your scent fills the air. Every little detail seems to distract him.

As the movie progresses, he finds himself inching closer to you, his knee pressing more firmly against your back. He tries to act nonchalant, hoping you don't notice his increasing closeness.

As you finish your food, you lean back against his leg further, playing on your phone. “You know, I’ve been thinking..”

Clark stiffens slightly as you lean back further against his leg, the feeling sending a thrill through him. He tries to remain nonchalant as he responds.

"Thinking? About what?" He glances down at you, his eyes flicking to your phone before meeting the back of your head again.

“You’re a reporter.” You begin, turning to look at him. “If you ever met Superman, would you tell him about me? Put in a good word..” you’re hoping that prompting him might reveal his secret.

A pang of guilt hits Clark at your question, but he forces a smile, trying to maintain composure. He knows the truth, that he *is* Superman, but hearing you talk about him like that, asking him to put in a good word...it's both endearing and painful. 

"I...uh, yeah, sure." he says, his voice a bit strained. "If I ever met him...I'd definitely mention you."

“You’re such a good friend.” You smile, turning your attention back toward the tv though your mind is obscured with disappointment.

As you turn your focus back to the TV, Clark lets out a shaky exhale, the words "good friend" stinging a little more than he expected. He remains silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

He glances down at you, the mixture of guilt and affection swirling inside him. He can't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out the truth.

You reach for your wine glass, taking a small drink of the crimson liquid. Clark watches as you take a sip, the way your lips touch the glass making his heart skip a beat. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face, your hair, anything.

"You, uh, like the wine?" he asks, trying to keep his mind from wandering.

“It’s actually really good, I usually hate wine.” You reply, “Where did you get it?”

Clark watches you take another sip, a hint of surprise on his face at your admission. He glances over at the half-empty bottle on the coffee table.

"Oh, it's from a small vineyard in Italy.” he answers, trying to keep his voice casual. "A friend gave it to me, said it was a special blend. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, actually.”

His eyes linger on you once more, the sight of you drinking the wine stirring something within him.

“Then why did you waste it?” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to look at him, confusion painted on your face.

Clark’s heart flutters slightly at your question, a mix of surprise and affection coursing through him. He tries to maintain his composure as he speaks.

“W-waste it?” he repeats, his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think sharing it with a...a friend is a waste.” His eyes meet yours, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he wonders if you can see through his facade.

“But it’s not particularly a *special* occasion, is it?” You cock your head to the side, shifting your body to face him.

Clark swallows, feeling your gaze on him as you turn to face him fully. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, the subtle hint in your question.

“I...I suppose not.” he admits, his voice soft. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” He studies your face, his heart racing as he wonders if you suspect something.

You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his features. “Clark..”

Clark feels a hint of alarm as you narrow your eyes, your gaze intense as you seem to be studying him. He can sense your suspicion, and it makes his heart race even faster.

“Y-yes?” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t quite hide the nervousness that’s beginning to show.

“You look..” you lean closer, eyes glued to his every movement. “You really do look a lot like him.” biting down on your lip as you rest your hands on his knees. 

Clark’s heart stutters at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He tries desperately to maintain eye contact, but he can feel his resolve slipping away under your intense gaze.

“Like who?” he stutters, knowing full well you’re talking about Superman.

“You know who,” you roll your eyes at his response, leaning closer to peel his glasses off his face, your fingers brush over his cheekbones. Warmth pools in your stomach as you consider the consequences of pushing him any further. 

Clark's eyes widen as you reach for his glasses, he swallows hard, feeling a mix of panic and anticipation. He knows he should stop you, but he can't bring himself to move as you draw closer.

You fold them up and set them on the coffee table behind you. “You’re really handsome.” You murmur under your breath as you gaze up at him from your position on the floor, hands itching to touch his skin once again.

Clark's breath hitches at your compliment, his heart fluttering as he takes in your words and your proximity. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as you look up at him, the mix of nervousness and desire swirling within him like a tempest.

He can't help but respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "You..you think so?" He reaches out, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his forefinger. 

“Of course.” You smile, leaning your elbows on his knees. “Clark, we don’t have any secrets between us do we?” your breath seems to get caught in your throat, dropping hints isn’t working anymore, you’ll have to be more direct with him. 

Clark tries desperately to push down the panic that rises in his chest at your question. He knows he should say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat.

His gaze flicks around the room, trying to find anything other than your eyes to focus on, but it's no use. He can feel your expectation, the way you're searching for the truth. He glances down at you again, the sight of you leaning on his knees making his heart flutter,

"N-no," he stutters, his voice strained. "No secrets."

You can tell he’s not being truthful, your expression faltering. “You’re lying.”

Clark swallows hard, the wave of guilt that washes over him nearly overwhelming. He can see the disappointment in your face, the way your expression falters, and it guts him.

He can't keep lying to you, not like this. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his voice small.

"I...I am." he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What is it you’re hiding?” You murmur, eyes locked on his beautiful blue ones.

Clark can feel his facade collapsing with each passing second. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks back at you, your gaze intense and searching. He can almost feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out.

“You can tell me anything.. Clark, we’re friends.” You move to sit next to him on the couch.

Clark takes a deep breath as you move closer, sitting next to him on the couch. The feeling of your proximity, the warmth of your body next to him, it's both a comfort and a source of anxiety.

He gazes at you, his eyes betraying the mixture of emotions raging inside him. He wants to tell you, to share this secret, but he's also terrified of how you'll react when you find out you’ve been crushing on him. You place your palm on his leg, offering some comfort.

Clark feels your hand on his leg, the touch sending a wave of warmth through him, calming his nerves slightly, but not enough to quiet his worries.

"I..." he begins, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know how to say this, but..." He takes another deep breath, his voice soft, low, and filled with trepidation. "I'm Superman."

“I knew it!” You gasp, eyes widened as you straighten up next to him.

Clark's eyes widen at your exclamation, the suddenness and volume of your voice taking him aback. He hadn't expected such an immediate reaction, let alone you to believe him so readily. He watches as you straighten up next to him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him. 

"Y-you did?" he stutters, his heart still racing.

“I mean of course, I’ve had my suspicions. Every time I speak of Superman it makes you turn pink.” You tease him lightly.

Clark feels his cheeks flush with color at your statement, the truth of your words hitting him hard. He blushes even more red as a result, the heat in his face growing in intensity.

He glances at you, a mix of embarrassment and relief in his expression. "I, uh, I didn't think it was that obvious," he mutters, his voice sheepish.

“Only because I know you so well.” You grin proudly. “But, I have another question for you.”

Clark can't help but feel a pang of affection as you grin at him, your confidence and familiarity with him making his heart flutter. He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Ask me anything," he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now that the secret is out.

“Does the man of steel really not have time for one of his fans?” You bite down on your lip.

Clark's heart stutters at your words, the change in your tone sending a wave of desire through him. He can feel his own heart rate spike as you bite down on your lip, your eyes filled with a mixture of teasing and want.

He sucks in a breath, his voice slightly hoarse as he manages a response.

"The man of steel has plenty of time for his...biggest fan."

“Biggest fan hm?” You question, sliding onto his lap and straddling his hips.

Clark's breath catches in his throat as you slide onto his lap, your body settling on top of him. He swallows hard, his heart racing as he looks up at you, your face so close to his he can almost taste your breath.

He places his hands tentatively on your hips, his fingers gently gripping the fabric of your clothes as he responds, his voice thick with desire. "The biggest. And the most beautiful."

“Clark..” you lean down, nose brushing against his. “Can I kiss you?”

Clark can feel your breath on his skin as you lean down, your nose brushing against his. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of your voice sending a wave of anticipation through him. He gazes up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. 

"Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Please...kiss me."

You cup his face, fingers dancing over his skin as you connect your lips softly.

Clark's eyes flutter shut as you cup his face, your fingers tracing gentle paths on his skin. The softness of your touch ignites a fire within him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's both gentle and passionate.

He lets out a soft moan, his hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.

The kiss quickly turns hungry, your lips part to let his tongue in. Your body is pressed flush against him, hands tangling in his hair as you tug on the roots gently.

Clark's tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that takes him by surprise. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer against him, his body reacting to every move you make.

He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through him. He responds by biting your lip gently, his hands slowly caressing the skin of your back.

You pull away for a breath, Clark's chest heaves as you pull away, his eyes opening slowly to take in the sight of you. Your lips, swollen and glistening from the kiss, make his heart stutter, the need to kiss you again almost overpowering.

He gazes at you in awe for a moment, his breathing ragged, before speaking, his voice slightly hoarse.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his hands still holding you close.

“I think I have some idea,” You tease, glancing down at the tent growing in his slacks. “I can feel it, you know.”

Clark follows your gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he sees the effect your presence has on him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting back up to meet yours, a mixture of embarrassment and desire playing across his face.

He responds, his voice low, his fingers gently caressing your hip.

"That's...that's all your fault," he says, his words laced with a hint of accusation and appreciation.

“My fault?” Your hand begins to trail down his chest. “Then I guess I should take responsibility, take care of it.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck.

Clark's breath hitches as your hand trails down his chest, his heart rate quickening in anticipation. Your touch is fire on his skin, igniting every nerve.

He groans softly as you lean forward to kiss his neck, his head tilting to give you better access. Your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin send a wave of desire through him, his body reacting to your touch.

"Responsibility, huh?" he manages to reply, his voice strained. "I like the sound of that."

“I can finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you..” you whisper into his ear, your hand finally making contact with his erection.

Clark's breath hitches at your words, the sound of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean in closer, your hand finally making contact with his hardness.

He lets out a low moan, his body responding to your touch with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh fuck..." He looks at you with hooded eyes, his voice thick with need. 

You reach for his shirt, pulling it off of him. “Holy shit, Clark.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stare.

Clark feels a wave of heat as you pull his shirt off, the air cool against his skin. He watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, the look of desire in your eyes making his heart race.

He knows how strong he is, how powerful his body is. But hearing your reaction, seeing the effect he has on you, it's something else entirely.

"You like what you see?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice, his muscles flexing under your gaze.

You lean forward, kissing his chest. “You have no idea.” You mutter, fingers trailing over each muscle as your other hand continues to massage his clothed hardness.

Clark's breath catches in his throat, his body reacting to your touch, your kisses on his chest sending waves of pleasure through him. He can't help but arch into your touch, his muscles responding to your caress.

He lets out a low moan, his voice strained as he speaks, "Oh God...keep doing that..." He's lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.

Clark's breath catches in his throat as your kisses move lower and lower down his stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through him. He gasps as your tongue teases over his abs, his eyes watching your every move.

His hands grip the edge of the couch as you work on his belt, his desire for you growing with each second. He lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants, the feeling of your hands on him almost too much to bear.

Once his pants and boxers are removed, he's left naked in front of you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread apart. He gazes at you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

He's completely under your spell, his entire being focused on you and only you. "Come here." He reaches for you, his voice soft and needy. 

You bring your lips to his once again, the kiss passionate and hungry. Clark responds to your passionate kiss with a fervor of his own, pulling you closer against his body, his hands roaming over your back, your hips, everywhere he can reach. He's lost in the kiss, in the feeling of your body against his.

He can't get enough of you, his need for you growing with every passing second. He moans softly into your mouth, his body reacting to your touch, his hard length pressed against your thigh.

You reach to grasp his erection, his thick cock barely fitting in your grasp. You begin to move your hand, slowly jerking him off as the kiss becomes more intense.

You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, your eyes hooded in desire. “You’re huge..”

Clark's breath catches at your words, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your hand on him, stroking him slowly, the feeling overwhelming yet perfect.

“It’s perfect.. you’re perfect.” You slip off of his lap, settling between his muscular thighs.

Clark's heart flutters at your words, affection washing over him. He watches you move down between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you so close to his cock. He reaches down, gently running his fingers through your hair, his voice soft but filled with need.

"I could say the same about you," he says, his eyes meeting yours, his body alive with anticipation. "You're...you're incredible."

You lean in closer, wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as you taste the salty sweetness of his precum. The room is filled with the sounds of your gentle slurps and Clark's moans of pleasure. 

Your hand grips the base firmly, stroking in sync with your mouth as you take more and more of him in, inch by glorious inch. You feel him swell in your grip, the veins pulsing with his excitement. 

You moan around him, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your pace as your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head. 

You look up at him through hooded eyes, watching his reaction as you deepthroat him, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. The intimacy of the moment is intoxicating, both of you lost in the sensual dance of your mouth and his cock, the tension building as the pleasure crescendos.

With every bob of your head, Clark's moans become louder, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you is palpable, the intimacy of the moment amplifying every sensation. 

His cock grows in your mouth, the taste of him driving you wild. You savor the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, the power of his grip speaking to your desire. His eyes, filled with lust and admiration, bore into yours, creating a silent conversation of pleasure that needs no words. 

Your tongue laps at his shaft, tracing the veins that stand out against his skin, your mouth creating a warm, wet heaven around his length. Each stroke, each suck, each flick of your tongue is a declaration of your adoration, a silent promise to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and back again. 

The room feels like it's spinning around you, the air thick with passion as you both give into the carnality of the act. Your cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him so deep, but it's a challenge you eagerly accept, the thrill of his pleasure reflected in every whimper that passes your lips.

You continue to worship him with your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. The way his hips buck slightly with each deep throat, the way his abs tighten as he holds back, it's all driving you crazy. The sound of his breath hitching and his fingers tightening in your hair sends a thrill through you, making your pussy throb with need. 

You moan around him, the vibrations echoing along his length, and he can't help but thrust a little deeper into your welcoming heat. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's all you can focus on as you give him the blowjob of his life, eager to show him just how much he means to you, to show him the depth of your desire. 

You feel the tension in his body building, the way his thighs tense around you, and you know he's close. The air in the room crackles with energy, the heat from both your bodies blending into an intoxicating cloud of lust. 

You don't stop, you can't stop, you want him to remember this moment, to feel the intensity of your passion every time he thinks of you. 

You continue to devour him with your mouth, your eyes locked onto his, which are filled with a mix of disbelief and pure bliss. The connection between you is electric, your every movement a silent testament to the desire that's been simmering beneath the surface. 

Each time your lips meet the base of his cock, you can feel his thighs tense against your cheeks, and the soft groan that escapes from his lips sends shivers down your spine. You're both drowning in the intensity of the moment, your hearts pounding in time with the rhythm of your mouth and his hips. 

You can feel him swelling even more, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to this peak sends a thrill through you. You suck harder, faster, each motion a silent plea for him to let go. And when he does, with a final, desperate thrust into your throat, the salty warmth of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow eagerly, relishing the proof of his pleasure. 

You pull back slowly, licking your lips, watching as he comes down from the high with a sigh of satisfaction. The air is thick with the scent of sex and love, and it's all you can do to not climb onto him and feel him deep inside you, to complete this perfect moment.

Clark pulls you to him, his lip moving to your neck as he gently slides his hand under your skirt. The fabric whispers against your skin as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. His fingertips graze over the soft fabric before he hooks it with his thumbs, pulling them down slowly. 

His eyes never leave yours, filled with love and a desperate need to feel all of you. As the last of your barriers fall away, his erection pressed against your bare thigh, hot and demanding. His hands caress your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his kisses trailing down to your collarbone, each one a promise of the passion to come. 

The air is charged with anticipation, your hearts beating in sync as you both give in to the intensity of your desires. He lifts you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your wet entrance, begging for more, but he takes his time, kissing you deeply and savoring the moment. 

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in time with the rhythm of your kisses, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The room is a whirlwind of passion and love as you both succumb to the depth of your feelings, the promise of ultimate intimacy just a breath away.

Clark's hands hold your hips as he guides you down onto his cock, the thickness of him stretching you open as you moan with pleasure. He's gentle, so gentle, as he makes love to you, each thrust coming slow and steady, as if he's savoring every moment. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in a firm but tender rhythm that sends electric jolts through your body. 

You lean back, gripping onto the couch cushions as he fills you completely, the sensation of his warmth and size overwhelming your senses. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you growing stronger with each shared breath. Each stroke of his thumb sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and your moans become more desperate, your body begging for release. 

His own breathing becomes more ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you come apart in his arms. The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the perfect harmony of love and passion.

Clark’s eyes bore into you as he carefully guides his cock inside you, his movements tender and deliberate. The way you straddle him, the way your pussy clenches around him, it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His thumb continues its delicate dance on your clit, his touch a masterpiece of passion. 

Your eyes are glazed with lust, your breath coming in short, needy gasps as he takes you higher and higher. Each stroke is a declaration of his love, a promise of the intensity to come. Your moans become louder, your body moving with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars. 

His thumb presses harder, his hips moving faster, and you feel the first tremors of your orgasm beginning to build. The tension in the room is palpable, each touch a spark that ignites the bonfire of desire within you both. You lean into him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your body craving the closeness that only he can provide. 

The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the air, a testament to the love you share. You're both lost in the moment, in the symphony of your bodies, and the crescendo is just within reach. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you get closer, your breathing shallow and erratic. 

And when the climax hits, it's like a supernova, explosive and all-consuming, leaving you both gasping for air. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a balm to your soul as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

[rinhaler]

I’m begging you to write a bimbo x Toji fanfic

IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE IM BEGGING YOU🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Been in a BJ mood so enjoy some 69ing xoxo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, bimbo!reader, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, 69ing, messy blowjob + pussy eating (duh), head pushing, praise, dumbification, degradation, age gap, exhibitionism ig?

words: 2.1k

“He’s not here, sweetheart.”

The bass of his voice rattles throughout your nervous system. And before you know it, you’re squeezing your thighs together and biting your lip as you look up at him, the way he almost entirely fills the space between the door frame. A slow smirk beginning to play on his lips as he watches you.

You’ve had a crush on your best friends dad since the first time he brought you over to hang out. He didn’t seem particularly interested in you, at first. Not until your skirts got shorter and your tops became skimpier.

“We had plans…” you pout a little, glossy lips shimmering in the afternoon sun. He clears his throat, adjusting his stance a little as he continues to look down at you.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, a little more curtly than intended. “And what plans were those?”

“Mm,” you hum, flicking through your texts to pull up your thread with Megumi. “Wanna hang out on Thursday? I can get us some booze and we can relax around the pool. My dad will be at wor— wait, you’re not at work?”

“Because it’s Monday, baby. Not Thursday.” he laughs a little as he shows you the date on his own phone. “Got a little confused there, huh? He’s at the library with the pink haired one, he ain’t here.”

“Oh…” you pout again. “’m sorry. I guess I should be studying too, I’ll go meet him there. See ya later Mister Fushiguroooo~!” you smile before beginning to skip away.

“Hey,” he calls after you. A grin quickly spreads across your face before you turn to face him again. He kisses his teeth, looking you up and down slower and more purposefully than ever before. He curls his finger, prompting you to come closer. “You’re all dressed for the beach, not the library. You can come in ‘n wait for him here, baby. You even brought your li’l swimsuit in your bag, huh? Come on.” he tilts his head as he walks inside.

You follow him hurriedly, closing the door after yourself when you enter. He doesn’t wait around for you, jogging up the stairs and shutting the door loudly after himself. You huff, wondering what the point of coming inside was if you’re just gonna be waiting by yourself anyway.

It doesn’t deter you, though. You dip into the downstairs bathroom and change into your swimsuit, sauntering outside to set up a lounger so you can at least catch a few rays before Megumi gets back.

You lay back, immediately feeling your skin heat up as the sun burns down onto your still body. There’s a lack of breeze, and the warmth soon becomes suffocating.

But soon enough, the sun disappears. Your eyebrows scrunch at the sudden change, your body plunged into shade and your temperature drops. You open your eyes, your best friends obscenely large father blocking out the ball of fire as he stands above you.

“Here, keep hydrated.” he orders, putting down a fruity looking cocktail filled to the brim with ice by your side. His white, open shirt begins to billow from a brief gust of wind, and he takes his seat with his own drink on the lounger beside yours.

He wasn’t avoiding you after all, he was getting changed.

You lean over, taking a small sip of the cocktail by your side. “Oh shit, that’s so yummy. Did you make it?”

He smirks again, but keeps his eyes closed as he lays back under the shade of his parasol. “Nah, the butler did it.”

“Really?” you ask, excitedly.

He can’t help but laugh at your naivety, turning his head to look at you. “No, sweetheart. Have you ever seen a butler around here? Course I made it.” he tells you, drinking in your bewildered expression as how gullible you are begins to dawn on you. “You ain’t too bright, are ya?”

“That’s—” you speak instantly, but put your drink back down to soak up the sun once more. “Mean.”

“Awe, sorry darlin’,” he smiles at you, but you don’t see it. “At least you’re pretty.”

He angles his head to face the sun, while yours snaps to look at him. You can’t hide your wide, cheesy smile as the words race through your mind.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re—

“You think I’m pretty?” you blurt out, though you feel no shame as the words leave your mouth. It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard another human being say to you in your life. Megumi’s hot dad thinks you’re pretty.

“You’re not that dumb, are you?” he faces you, finally, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. “You’re a gorgeous little thing, that’s for sure. Gonna give an old man like me the wrong idea, walkin’ around in a skimpy swimsuit like that.”

“The wrong idea?” you tilt your head at him. “I dunno what you mean, Mister Fushiguro.”

“Mmm, I betch’a don’t. I love li’l airheads like you.” he sneers. “Or maybe you know exactly what I mean, ‘n you’re just pretending to be dumb.”

You pout again as you think about what he’s saying. He watches you as you try and understand his words, the notion of pretending to be anything utterly perplexing you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though he’s a little surprised to see you roll onto your side so you can look at him properly.

“… Are you flirting with me?” you wonder.

“Hah,” he snickers. “You’re really tryna get me in trouble, huh? Would ya like that?”

“… uh-huh…” you nod slowly, biting your lip again. You watch as he smirks at you, adrenaline running through your veins as you wonder where this is heading. Is he simply teasing you?

“Have you got a li’l crush on me, sweetheart? That’s real bad. Remember who I am? Your best friends old man.”

“You’re not an old man,” you try to assure him. But he can only laugh at your idiocy once more. “Had a crush on you forever…” you admit, getting up from your lounger and walking over to his. You decide to take the risk, moving each of your legs on either side of him before slowly lowering yourself.

He bites his own lip, aged scar pulling deliciously as he smooths his hands over the curves of your waist. A grunt rumbles through his throat as you barely move, lightly humping against his stiffening cock.

And in an instant, your bikini is soaked.

You rut your hips more, and more, until he holds you still.

“Wanna fuck.” you whimper, and he starts to tut.

“Mmm, me too. Maybe next time.” he thinks, cock flexing as he imagines the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him so perfectly. “Wan’ you to put that empty head of yours to good use.” he tells you.

A dazed expression decorates your face as you try and decode what he means. But instead of leaving you confused, he carefully pushes you away from his growing bulge so he can pull out his leaking length.

“Go on, princess. Suck me off.” he tells you.

You’re too astonished by the sight of his cock to even move. A beautiful thickness with a gorgeous curve you can only use as a fantasy for future reference as you imagine it hitting and stretching every spot inside.

He’s amazed that you don’t need to be told twice, however, you soon position yourself to take his length into your salivating mouth. You look up at him with wide, wet eyes as you kiss and suck his tip. Only looking away to spit into your hand, using it to jerk him off whilst you continue to suck like your life depends on it.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even taken aback as you further pull down his beach shorts to free his balls. He’s besotted at the sight of you, completely and wholly lovestruck as you produce enough saliva to completely soak his length, spittle dripping and sliding as it drenches his cock and balls. He winces as you cup them, licking up and down his cock before you suck one into your mouth.

All the while, your eyes are on him. Never before has he felt embarrassed whilst receiving head. But right now, he feels entirely at your mercy. He holds your gaze, though, intent on overriding the feelings of embarrassment as you turn him into a grunting and groaning puddle.

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he grins, chest heaving as you don’t let up on him. Your fist becomes a blur, and even still, he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your grip. “Pretty little girl… look s’cute with your mouth full’a my cock.”

You moan, at that. The praise overwhelming you enough to release one of his balls from your mouth before you go back to sucking him off. You take him deeper and deeper, as deep as you can take him without showing any signs of gagging.

“Such a good cocksucker for me, baby,” he tells you as he starts to push your head down on him. “Knew that an airhead like you would be a fucking pro.”

“G-Got such a big dick, daddy.” you tell him as you push off of him, desperate to tell him. He drags you up closer to him, kissing you sloppily as your body presses into his. You lie comfortably in his embrace in the shaded spot, moaning into his mouth as you grind down on his cock. “P-Please fuck me.”

“Oh, princess… does your little cunt need daddy’s attention?” he wonders, kissing you again. “Told ya, I want my cock sucked.” he slaps your ass. “Move, go on.” he orders, though despite his instruction, he begins to manhandle you.

You’re soon positioned so you’re practically sitting on his face while his throbbing cock is back in yours. He moves the material of your bikini into the crease of your thigh and gives your pussy a light spank.

“Don’t stare at it, sweetheart. Suck my cock, now.”

You immediately do as you’re told, taking him down your throat while he teases you enough to have you trembling. Touching anywhere and everywhere except where you need him most. Until finally, he places a delicate kiss between your sodden folds.

“Baby, she’s drooling. You really do have a crush on me.” he chuckles. He wastes no more time, after that, burying his face between your thighs and slurping up your lewdness. He moans into your folds before he shoves two fingers into your clenching hole.

His cock falls from between your lips, then, and you moan loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear you. He slaps your ass again, and it’s hard. “Shut up.” he warns. “I won’t let you cum if you do that again.”

The warning is enough to make you focus yourself on his pleasure. His mouth is making your toes curl and your head become emptier than even he thought possible. Tears begin to flow from your eyes as you do all you can to prioritise him and keep your moans to yourself.

Your throat tightens and constricts the more you withhold. You can’t control it fully, still humming around him. It’s somewhat calculated, yes. But the thought of being caught or ratted out to Megumi is making him a little more cautious. Then again, if he really didn’t wanna be caught, he wouldn’t be fucking his sons best friend in the backyard.

He pulls away, still curling his fingers into your g-spot as his face shimmers from your sticky folds. “Can’t believe you called me daddy you little slut,” he spanks you. “That’s right, isn’t it baby? You’re daddy’s dumb little slut.”

“Mhmm!” you mewl. “Mmm, mmm, mmm~!” you whine as you begin to unfurl. Your cunt squeezes hard enough to almost break his fingers, though it doesn’t deter him from devouring you whole. He begins to thrust up into your mouth, and he shoots ribbon after ribbon of hot white cum between your drool soaked lips.

Neither of you move, both exhausted from the overwhelming release.

“Wh— Did that just… happen?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Sure did,” he laughs, slapping your ass as he does. “You need to give me your number, baby. I gotta be able to text you when Megumi ain’t home.”

“Hm…” you consider it. “Why would I come over again when Megumi isn’t here?”

“God, princess, you really can’t think why? Daddy wants to be able to split your pussy open on his cock whenever he wants. Don’t want Megumi home for that, do ya baby?”

“N-No…” you sigh dreamily, closing your eyes as you finally move to lie comfortably beside him. “You better fuck me next time!”

“Next time?” he grins. “Megs won’t be home for a few hours. I’ll fuck you in a few minutes, sweetheart.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[venus-haze]

Lay All Your Love on Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: A communication breakdown has unintended consequences, but it’s all because Homelander loves you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on a request from @judyfromfinance and the ABBA song which is so Homelander coded. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Jealousy, possessive behavior, violence (not toward the reader). We love miscommunication for plot reasons here! Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander had no reason to believe you were hiding from him. Your job kept you busy, and ironically enough, working for the same company didn’t guarantee that you’d see each other nearly as much as he’d like. When his texts went unanswered and he couldn’t so much as hear you during the day, though, his mind went into overdrive presenting him with every worst case scenario it could possibly conceive of.

Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

His gloved hands balled into fists at his side. You would never cheat on him. He knew that. He did. But sometimes, it seemed like your heart didn’t ache for him the way his did for yours. You had a life outside of him, and as much as you tried to include him in it, he resisted. Things would be easier if it were just the two of you.

Trying your phone again, he called you, frustrated when it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Give me a call back as soon as you can. I love you,” he said, adding a quick. “Call me back" for emphasis.

He groaned, throwing his phone aside and folding his arms over his chest. It was fine. He didn’t care that much anyway. At least that’s what he told himself as he glanced at his discarded phone every few seconds in hopes you’d call or text back. No dice.

As a last resort, he headed to the crime analytics department. You managed a small team of analysts who consulted with the state and federal government on Vought’s behalf. The two of you had met when Vought was trying to get supes in the military, and as far as Homelander was concerned, it was love at first sight.

Never mind that it took a few weeks to win you over, frustratingly committed to your job and hesitant to date a coworker. Even though he’d hardly consider the two of you coworkers. Sure, you both worked for Vought, but that was it as far as he was concerned. In his determination to woo you, he’d made some valuable connections in your department. At least, people who he knew would have some kind of scoop on you when he needed it.

“Hey Annika,” Homelander said, startling the young crime analyst as he approached her desk. “How’re you doing, pal?

“Hi Homelander,” she said, not quite able to keep eye contact with him. “Sir. I’m good. H-How are you?”

“You haven’t seen Y/N around today, have you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Alright,” he said tensely, a painfully fake smile spreading across his face. “Keep up the good work.”

His smile faltered as he heard your name come up in a conversation on the other side of the room. A masculine voice, younger than his, far too much mirth for his liking when he spoke about you.

“Dude, I was in Y/N’s office for like an hour yesterday. I could barely concentrate. They are so fine.”

“You’re insane,” someone else laughed.

“What? Have you seen them?”

“They’re dating Homelander, dumbass.”

“Whatever. It won’t last. He and Maeve will get back together, and yours truly will be there to pick up the pieces.”

“If you say so.”

Homelander hadn’t noticed his eyes glowing red until Annika squeaked. Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he looked at his…acquaintance.

“See you around,” he said, his chipper tone clearly strained.

Since you weren’t answering your phone and he still had no clue where you were, Homelander had all the time in the world to wait around for your sleazy subordinate to take a bathroom break. He wondered if you were aware of the man’s interest in you. It was a possibility, but he had to assure himself that you wouldn’t do anything to encourage it. He knew you wouldn’t bother with a miscreant like that, of all people, but the point needed to be made. No one could speak so vulgarly about you and expect him not to do something about it.

Fifteen minutes or so had passed, and Homelander spotted his name badge. Josh.

“Hey Josh! You have a minute, buddy?” Homelander asked, voice booming through the hallway, causing Josh to flinch. Homelander smirked a bit.

“Homelander! Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, actually, I just have a question about the crime analytics office.”

Josh nodded. “Sure, anything.”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there?”

“Wh-What?”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there? Maybe a keg and some drunk idiots wearing togas?”

“I don’t—“

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Then why were you in there talking about my partner like you were in a fucking frat house?” Homelander asked, cornering the slimy analyst. “You know Y/N and I are dating, right? Your idiot friend told you as much.”

Josh’s mouth flopped open and closed like one of the disgusting fish The Deep crusaded for. “I—I didn’t mean—“

“So either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish. Which one is it, buddy?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Homelander.”

Homelander chuckled, empty and hollow, reveling in the way he could practically smell the fear radiating off of the man in front of him. “You will be.”

With the way Josh was carrying on, Homelander would’ve thought he’d actually killed the guy. All he’d done was snap his arm and throw an elbow to his nose. He’d just bought the asshole a free rhinoplasty, far more generous than he deserved after what he did. 

Homelander sneered at the blubbering crime analyst, work shirt covered in his own blood. Pathetic, really. And he had the audacity to act like he was worthy of you. Throwing one final glare Josh’s way, Homelander walked off, wiping the blood off his gloves and onto his suit. It could be dry-cleaned out.

The outburst made him feel better than he had all day, though it didn’t answer the question of where the hell you were and why you weren’t answering him. Besides, he swore he heard the familiar sound of your footfall in the lobby. 

He supposed you wouldn’t be too happy if you came back to see one of your subordinates brutalized in the hallway. Just his luck, he spotted an intern in one of the unoccupied offices.

“Hey,” Homelander said, pausing a moment to read the intern’s badge, “Sammy, there’s a mess over by the crime analytics office, can you get someone to clean it up?” 

“Sure,” Sammy responded cheerfully.

“Thanks, it’s the little things that make this place run. You’re doing great,” he complimented, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Sammy returned his smile, obviously not questioning his sincerity. Homelander knew if he framed the whole thing as a favor, she’d be more likely to follow through. It was always good to have reliable people in his back pocket for things like that, worker bees who thought they were friends or something. She walked off, strides purposeful as she set off to complete her personal mission from Homelander.

Rushing over to the elevator, he listened for you, getting out on the fifteenth floor where he saw you just as you walked out of the bathroom. 

As soon as he made eye contact, he melted, making a beeline for you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around Homelander. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Where were you?” he asked, almost painfully returning your embrace.

“I told you I was presenting for the security council at the UN all day. No phones, remember?”

He huffed, releasing you from the hug. Fuck. “I guess—maybe that rings a bell. You shouldn’t tell me something so important while I’m distracted.”

“How much did you miss me?” you teased, holding up your pointer finger and thumb to pinch the air. “This much?” You spread your fingers wider. “This much?” Wider again, except before you could ask, Homelander scooped you up in his arms.

“Why don’t I show you?”

“Please do,” you said, tilting your head up to kiss him.

He retreated into the elevator with you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss laced with longing. You giggled at him. You’d only been gone for a few hours, yet he was acting as though it had been days. 

You missed him too, resolving to focus your attention on him for the rest of the night.

Until your phone rang.

“I should get this.”

“Now you’re able to pick up a call?” he grumbled, setting you down.

“One minute,” you whispered, grabbing your phone, “then I’m all yours.”

He pressed the button to his suite, having forgotten to do so in the heat of passion. “You better be.”

You picked up your phone, amused at Homelander still clinging to you, kissing your neck. “Hello?”

“Josh from crime analytics?” you asked, tensing a bit when Homelander grazed his teeth on the crook of your neck. “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me the homicide report yesterday.”

Homelander hummed against your skin, and you let out a whimper only he could hear at the way it vibrated through you. He was smug, and it took you a moment to piece together why.

“Okay, talk to you tomorrow,” you said before hanging up. “What did you do?”

“Something chivalrous to defend your honor,” he mumbled, his lips unrelenting on your shoulder as he pulled your shirt down to expose it.

“I guess I should thank you properly, then? My knight in shining armor?”

He lifted his head, grinning, “If you insist.”

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by this, this, and this !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know—tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s—it���s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. “You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying…” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[notjustjavierpena]

Nerf

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: There’s a little background to this. Sweet @sawymredfox posted a picture in an inbox that I can’t remember who belonged to but the picture was of a Nerf gun with a note asking for a gunfight over dinner. This one's for you, Wym! 

Summary: Hubby returns from work to a Nerf gunfight over takeaway privileges. Luckily, he has tactical training and quite the appetite.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic bliss, fluff, pregnant reader, javi loves and worships his wife, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, rough piv sex, multiple orgasms, creampie

Word count: 4.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57685981

Nerf

Javier comes home to his apartment like always on a Friday afternoon, fiddling around with his bundle of keys that he fishes out from his pocket to find the one to the front door all the while carrying his work bag in his other hand. He has planned a date night with you tonight and has been excited about it since Monday morning when you suggested it over breakfast. He cannot wait to see you in your shared home, already grinning from ear to ear at the idea of giving his wife a long kiss as you discuss the movie choices you’ve rented at the local Blockbuster. He doesn’t really care about what you insist on watching, easily distracted by you anyway as you watch your movie with curious eyes. He’s more interested in the food that you are going to eat, hooked on the idea of ordering greasy Chinese food to share with each other. 

When he finally gets the door open, the apartment is dead quiet and the noise of Javier throwing his keys on the side table echoes through the hallway. 

“Honey?” He calls out but you don’t reply. 

He takes one step forward only to hear the sound of cheap plastic scraping across the floorboards. He furrows his brow and looks down, noticing the toy gun with a sticky note attached to it. He sets down his bag by the shoe rack and bends down to pick the gun up. 

It’s a Nerf gun, more specifically a poor imitation of an automatic weapon. He checks the magazine and sees that it is full, loads it again, and only then reads the note sticking to it. 

Husband, 

Welcome home. I’m hiding in the apartment with a Nerf gun. Here is the other one… The winner decides what takeaway we’re having for dinner. 

May the odds be ever in your favor,

Your wife

A grin spreads on his face, his senses heightened now that he knows you are watching him from somewhere.

As he pockets the note with as little noise as possible, he smirks with determination and thinks that you have no idea who you are up against. He secures his grip on the toy gun, remembering his tactical training from Colombia, and moves silently through the doorway to the living room. 

He scans the space with his heart beating in his ears but where he expects you to jump out from somewhere, maybe behind the couch where you’ll be relaxing later, he finds nothing. He takes silent footsteps across the wooden floorboards, knowing which creak, as he makes his way through the small space, checking behind the curtain by pulling it open with the tip of the rifle. Not there either. 

“I’m coming for you, esposa (wife),” he tells you tauntingly when he makes a left into the kitchen. You’re usually more into pizza, stringy with cheese and topped with mushrooms, but he really wants that goddamn chow mein from just around the corner. He tightens his grip, on a mission.

He inches forward to see if you are underneath the breakfast table with a cloth that you bought at a flea market a few months back. He didn’t think it would fit the rest of the furniture in the apartment but you insisted, and you were right. He loves the mismatched chairs surrounding its slightly quirky pattern now, pulling one out to make sure you really aren’t underneath the tablecloth by quickly lifting it and aiming.

The kitchen is completely empty, he decides, unless you are hiding in the refrigerator which he seriously doubts. Despite this, the silence is thick with impending doom and he takes a deep breath to steady himself, not about to lose to a person with no experience in the field. He listens carefully, taking a few steps back and suddenly a Nerf dart flies past his ear. 

He whirls around, having noticed the slight movement just in time. And there you are, right in the doorway to the kitchen with a huge, beaming smile on your face, gun pointed at him, and wearing nothing but your white cotton underwear. He fails to concentrate on anything else except your gorgeous body, the only one in this whole world that he has worshiped multiple times and hasn’t lost interest in. He smiles at the sight of your baby bump that has just started to grow round and the way your panties’ elastic band sits across it. However, you play unfairly, a Nerf dart suddenly making its way toward him. 

He manages to duck it, hearing it hit the kitchen cabinets behind him with a soft thud before clattering to the floor. He raises his gun and you squeal with delight, turning on your heel, and running through your shared home. He fires a few darts in your direction without hesitation but none of them get you and you’re gone again. 

“Nice try, baby!” You laugh triumphantly. He follows the sound of your voice, your padding feet, and your giggles that elevate his heartbeat with indescribable warmth and happiness. They lead him to the bedroom, steadily creeping along the walls until he nudges the door open with his foot, gun at the ready. 

He guesses that you’ve stepped into the closet where his shirts hang because you won’t have had time to roll underneath the bed. He makes his way across the floor and swings the door open only to find nothing but his old clothes. He furrows his brow but then tenses up at the thrilling feeling of the tip of your gun poking into his back. He smirks to himself. 

“Hah!” You exclaim with glee, “Isn’t this a surprise? I can’t believe I won!”

His smile becomes more mischievous. You haven’t shot him yet, too arrogant to think that you won’t have to because he’ll surrender. Too bad for you that he is a stubborn man who loves you just a little more than anyone else before him. It’s enough to not let you win as you love it the most. 

In a flurry of tactical decisions and moves, he manages to whip around and grab the gun to fling it out of your hands. It falls to the floor with a clatter and your eyes widen. It dawns on you that you have noticed his plan too late and you end up with a Nerf dart hitting you square in the chest. 

“Gotcha!” Javier celebrates. 

You stumble back dramatically, clutching frantically at your chest after impact to earn a genuine laugh from your husband. You end up on the floor and Javier steps forward to stand with a leg on either side of you. 

“Do you stand down, soldier?” Javier asks, imitating the sound of reloading. When he aims at your chest again, you hold your hands up in mock surrender. 

“Fine, you win take away privileges,” you giggle but still try to reach out for his gun. 

Javier drops to his knees, getting comfortable on your thighs while you start to squirm, “You’re not very convincing, wife.”

“I’m being completely genuine, husband,” you reassure and accidentally push up into him, the slightest friction against his jeans making him feel a stir of desire in the length of his cock. 

Just when you try to reach for his gun again, he throws it next to the other and thus out of your reach. He leans down over you, hovering over your pouting face, and kisses your lips, “You really thought you could beat me so easily? Chica tonta (silly girl).”

The exhilarating feeling of your little game has left him clouded by thoughts of you. His eyes start to wander down your figure, his yearning for you that’s been building since he left in the morning making him unable to stop them. Your chest rises and falls a little quicker underneath his greedy gaze. Your breasts are more full than usual because of the baby growing inside of you and you look so stunning sprawled out on the floor at his mercy that he can’t help but let his hands wander as well.

You arch up to catch his lips in a tantalizing kiss that leaves him short of breath. Warmth thrums underneath his skin, a result of your heat radiating through him even as his fingertips only ghost down towards your waist and stomach. Your skin is electric, soft to the touch, and glowing just right because you are pregnant. 

“Javi,” you breathe softly as your hands come up to tangle in his hair, messing it up after he has had it under control the whole day. He nods but doesn’t keep his mouth on yours, instead lets the tip of his nose trail over your cheek and down your jaw whilst leaving kisses on your trembling neck as he descends. 

“I missed you all day,” he whispers, nibbling and kissing your skin until a thin sheen of spit runs down the pulsing vein along your throat. When he reaches your belly, beautiful and pregnant, he presses several kisses all over the growing bump while listening to you sigh with contentment. He smiles into your skin, briefly resting his cheek on you to look up at your face, “How have you both been today?” 

“We’ve been good,” you hum and run your hand through his hair, flattening it down again by pushing it back as you caress the top of his head, “We’ve missed you though. They’ve been moving around a bit but I think they’ve gone to sleep now… all that running around.” 

“Lots of privacy for us then,” he teases. He shifts positions, scooting backward until he is kneeling between your legs. He pecks your belly repeatedly, “You just sleep, bebito (little baby) while I take care of your pretty mamá.”

“What do you have planned?” You ask, wiggling your hips to try and get comfortable on the hard floor. He smirks at you and crawls forward to yank at the covers on the bed, pulling them far enough off the mattress until the pillows follow. He helps you to lift your pelvis up so he can scoot the soft pillow underneath your hips and then does the same with your head. 

“Can I eat this sweet little pussy, mamá?” He asks, finally kneeling in position again and watching you plant your feet on the ground by bending your knees. His own knees are hurting slightly but he ignores it because he knows he’ll forget it once he gets lost in your cunt.  

“Please,” you swallow thickly after a hitched breath. You nod eagerly with that little expression on your face that he loves when you’re getting treated for simply being the love of his life; all softened features, mouth slightly open, and pleading eyes watching as he goes down. 

Gently, he puts his palms on the back of your warm thighs and pushes your legs towards your chest, enjoying seeing you in the same position that he put that baby inside of you while he still can. You follow his movements without protest, keeping them there while he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties. 

“You want it?” He asks while dragging the fabric down over your hips as you nod repeatedly, snapping it slightly from how you barely register that you have to cooperate. He laughs as you do, a tiny giggle escaping you as you hold your legs up with your hands under your knees when he slips the underwear off your feet and tosses it to the side. 

Your pussy is on display for him like this, your pushed-together thighs and your ass slightly elevated from the pillow making it stick out even more. You squeeze around your calves to hold your position and he can see your dripping slit quiver, inviting him in to squish his head between your thighs. 

He flattens his tongue to lick a long, greedy stripe from the cleft of your ass to your clit, feeling you pulse in excitement as he finally touches you with his mouth. He groans at your sweet taste, repeating the move to concentrate on gulping down some of your slick like he hasn’t had a drink all day and Texan summer is peaking. You make him so hard in his jeans that it hurts, the length of his cock straining against the zipper as your sweet scent fills his nostrils. As he eats you out slowly and hears you sigh with pleasure above him, he agrees with himself that he’ll fuck you too. He thought this would be enough but no, you look perfect, swollen and warm below him and he doesn’t want to go through this late afternoon without feeling your heat around his cock. 

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp the way you do when your orgasm starts to tug from within you. He stops only using the tip of his tongue to be more forceful in his treatment. He covers your mound with his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks at your clit to hear you whine a mhmm…

You gush a little wetness when he releases you briefly, a drop of it sliding down between your cheeks so it accidentally wets the pillow you’re writhing on. Javier doesn’t care right now, will just throw everything in the washer later. He kisses your clit a few times before going in again, this time pressing his tongue against you to wiggle it against your clit that’s now hard from how turned on you are. 

There’s a climb in your pitch, a little higher moan coming out your mouth as he starts to let small flicks of his tongue rain down on your gorgeous clit. He concentrates on getting you there, heart beating in his ears but still managing to listen to your heaving breaths, notice your palms tighten around your legs as you channel the intensity into whatever you can and feel your hips involuntarily move so he has to grab the widest part of your thighs and hold you in place. 

When you start to hold your breath after a particularly long whine, he pulls away to stop your orgasm with the excuse that he has to breathe. You look down at him, releasing your grip around your knees to let your thighs fall out to the sides. You look frustrated, your racing heartbeat evident from the way your pussy pulses in a steady rhythm. 

“I hate you,” you say through gritted teeth, hips lifting off the pillow for just a moment as you chase something, anything to no avail.

“No, you don’t, Mamacita, not with what I’m about to do to you,” he grins, eyes glued to your glistening slit, watching the shine of his own spit covering your delicate skin. He grabs your ankles to plant your feet on the floor like you’d done briefly earlier, only to slide his hands upward over your shins, knees, and thighs until they sit on your hips. He gropes your jiggly thighs for a second, watching his movements vibrate all the way up to your bra-covered tits. They jump a little and he knows he has never seen anything so perfect, catching his hungry eyes and attention for a little too long. When he wants to smirk at you, he sees your pouty face and chuckles, “Alright, I’ll hurry up. Gotta give you what you want when dinner isn’t your call.”

You bite your bottom lip as he descends on your cunt again, tensing up the muscle of his tongue to lick a long stripe between your soaked folds. He moans when your hands find his hair, tugging gently on the follicles of his scalp. When he dares glance up at your writhing body, he can only see your tensed-up jaw as you have thrown your head back.

“Fuck, Javi,” you whine, “F-fingers. Make me come on your fingers, please.”

He can definitely do that. He lets his dominant hand slide down between your legs while he holds himself up with the other one on your hip, keeping your pelvis down as he sucks hard on your clit. Two of his fingers enter you and curl toward the front of your walls, seeming to have a direct line to your spine because you arch your back with a groan. 

Javier hums with pride, fucking you open on his digits whilst hollowing his cheeks around your clit. He drags the pads of his fingers over your g-spot again and again, hearing how your breathing speeds up once more and feeling your heartbeat as you rhythmically start to clench around his middle- and ring finger. He doesn’t have to look, is simply driven crazy by the mere thought of the finger that he wears his wedding band on disappearing into you over and over. 

“I’m coming,” you announce with a cry, barely able to catch your breath at this point. You tug harsher on his hair, pushing your hips up to earn more friction, “I’m gonna come, baby. Fuck, you’re making me come.”

Javier bobs his head slightly as he nips and sucks and licks, moving his fingers inside of you almost frantically to get the reward that he so desperately wants and needs. You squeeze your eyes shut, thighs tensing up and then go completely silent above him for less than a few seconds. 

You come with a high-pitched squeal a moment later, pussy going off into rapid spasms that choke his fingers but not enough for him to stop dragging them out while they curl upward. He releases his mouth from your pulsing clit, withdrawing his head from between your thighs so your arms fall to the floor. You gush all over his hand which he doesn’t manage to pull away, twisting your gorgeous body in surprise as you practically wet yourself on the floor. He tightens his grip on you to keep you on your back, hearing you sob with pleasure as he sinks his fingers knuckles-deep into you again and repeats the move. 

Another gush soaks the floorboards and you are practically levitating by now, enough for Javier to be sure that he has made up for the fact that his pregnant wife won’t get her takeout craving satisfied. He hears how it sounds in his head, knowing immediately that he should decide on that goddamn pizza if he wants to have it easy. 

He snaps out of it to go again at least three times more and when you seem like you can barely handle it anymore, he pulls back but only after a gentle peck on your swollen clit. You squirm in oversensitivity, shaking your head repeatedly while he cannot stop grinning in self-satisfaction. God, how on earth can he of all people have the privilege to make you feel so good? 

It takes a moment before your mind isn’t fogged by fireworks going off between your legs anymore and you slump on the floor with a satisfied smile on your face, a giggle bubbling up in your throat which is the most heavenly sound he has ever heard. 

“Okay?” He asks with a dazed expression, the taste of you lingering on his tongue. He rubs your thigh up and down, feeling the slight dampness from the sweat and wetness of your body. 

You nod in reply, “Mhmm…”

“Made a mess on the floor,” he tells you with a hint of taunting in his voice. 

“Mhmm,” you repeat, no shame in your tone which he loves completely, “You’ll clean it up.”

“Oh, will I?” He laughs quietly at the state of you. It’s true though; he will, and as you nod once more, he is already getting up from the floor with an aching hard-on in his jeans. 

“Yes because I’ll let you fuck me when you get back,” you grin lazily, letting your thighs fall out to the sides even more to show him your wet cunt. He could skip the step where he gets a towel but you’ll complain about it later tonight if he doesn’t nip it in the bud.

He adjusts his cock in his jeans when he is on his feet and undoes the pants on the way to the bathroom, hands gripping the handle on the bathroom drawer a little too hard when he gets a towel. He slings the towel over his shoulder and pushes the fabric of his pants down over his hips, relieved when his cock is only covered by the softness of his briefs. 

When he has patted down the floorboards, just managing to do it before your come has started to soak into the wood, he throws the towel to the side and kneels between your legs again. He looks at you with longing, with a fire in him that feels as if it is getting poured gasoline over it when you look into his eyes with a mischievous grin. 

“Can I have it now, baby?” He asks politely as he pushes his briefs down, letting them sit just below his hips because it feels like too much work to undress completely when he so desperately wants to be inside of you. You nod and hold out your hands to signal that he needs to come closer, and he follows through on your silent request but only after taking a last look at the beautiful mess between your legs that he’ll push into soon. 

When he crawls over you, you unbutton his shirt to reveal his chest and touch him all over. Your delicate hands roam over the skin of his torso, fingertips sliding through the little but sexy amount of hair there until you grab around the small of his back. You pull him in, he moves closer. 

A sharp exhale leaves him as he enters you finally. You on the other hand moan shakily as he fills up every last inch of you, intruding just a little before you relax around him. Your hands slide down and your nails dig into his ass, motioning for him to start moving inside of you. 

Your head falls back when he thrusts once then twice, fucking you slowly but harshly into the floor. It’s so ridiculous to think that he only had plans to kiss you when he came home, maybe making love to you in bed after the film you definitely won’t fall asleep to. He braces himself with a hand beside your thrown-back head, leaning down over you to practically latch onto your throat. He kisses along the beautiful arch of your neck, tasting your salty skin and feeling your throat vibrate against his lips with each noise of pleasure you make. 

You bend your legs to wrap them around his hips, rocking with him as he fucks into you deeply. Your cunt is so wet and warm around him, echoing each of his groans by choking his dick just as he has come to love it after he started fucking you on the regular three years back. Here he is, happily married to you and he is going to be a father. The thought of what you two have together, what you will achieve together, makes him impossibly hard inside of you, especially when you go and do something as stupidly adorable as a Nerf gunfight. He must have you. Fantastic, sexy, beautiful you.

He rolls his hips to hear you say his name, the floor creaking underneath you as you move together. You tilt your head forward again to kiss him, slotting your mouth over his and tasting your sweat and slick on his tongue. You suck at the tip, hinting at how good you are at going down on him and he groans with how wanton you can come off. You’re not just a sweet girl like everyone says.

“There! Oh fuck, th-there,” you break the kiss to yell out for him as he hits an angle that wasn’t even deliberate, the noise bouncing off the walls. The little old lady who lives downstairs from you will be banging on the door tomorrow, gone before you can answer and having left a cheerful yet unhappy note that starts. It's so nice that you enjoy each other. Javier thinks it’s more than nice. 

“Yeah? There, baby?” He does it again to piss off the whole building instead and your fingers dig into his skin with how good it is, “¿Así (like that)?”

“Sí, así (yes, like that),” you sob, your cunt squeezing his dick with how you have another high incoming. He seeks out your lips again but you are busy; your eyes are squeezed shut in concentration on your pleasure and your mouth hangs open as moan after moan leaves it, so he settles for a desperate bite to your jaw. 

“I love you,” he says as clearly as he can muster, his own orgasm creeping up on him as he spears you again and again. He moves a little to go harder and faster, his pace slowly increasing until you need to hold onto him to not go upwards on the floor with the strength behind his hips. You slide your hands up his back, nails scratching in their wake until you pull him into your arms. God, he feels so good and safe when you do that. You are both sweaty, chests sticking slightly to each other from how much effort you are putting into being together like this. 

“I love you too, esposo (husband),” you whimper feebly and tighten your legs around him to keep him where you want him the most. He can hear you are close in the way your breaths fall from your lips. 

“Come for me,” he whispers with a hot breath against your ear that has you shivering on top of everything else, “Por favor, mi amor. Quiero sentirte (Please, my love. I wanna feel you).”

His words send you there, your sounds send him there. You come with a pained noise and then a string of moans, your brows furrowed as your cunt goes off into spasms that he relishes in. They pull his own high from him, his muscles tightening before pleasure washes over him as he fills you up with his spill. It is accompanied by a guttural groan that makes you clench around him just when he thought it was over. He cannot control his hips as he feels it. His pace, albeit slowing down, gets uneven until it comes to a complete halt. 

Eventually, he rolls off of you. The both of you groan as he pulls out, and he immediately reaches for the towel which you place between your legs. He turns his head towards you when you do and as you gain eye contact, the both of you laugh in post-orgasmic bliss. 

You scoot closer by wiggling your entire body. You also decide to share the pillow under your head with him, pulling into the space between you. 

When you rest a hand on your baby bump, he reaches to hold it. Your breaths fall in sync with no need to say anything until you have the energy. 

When that time comes, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, “So.”

“So?” He asks and pulls up his underwear. 

“What did I lose to?” You elaborate while he buttons and zips his jeans. 

“Chinese,” he replies and tries to suppress his excitement in case you start pouting. Instead, you laugh out loud. 

“What? Why’s that funny?” He probably looks confused. 

“I wanted Chinese,” you clarify with continuous giggles. 

“Oh,” he joins in and chuckles, “You never want Chinese.”

“The baby wants Chinese,” you pat your belly with your other hand.

“Must be my kid,” he smirks and rolls onto his side. He pecks your cheek repeatedly. 

“Must be,” you turn your head to kiss him but it doesn’t quite feel enough. So he kisses you again, squeezing the hand on your pregnant belly as he does it and when you giggle against his mouth, it seems like the whole reason he was put on Earth is to do all of this and what’s to come with you.

.

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[hgfictionwriter]

Midnight Satisfaction

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie wakes up flustered and needy one night and you catch her relieving her frustrations alone. You tell her there’s no need. You’re there for the taking - whether you’re awake or not.

Warnings: G!P content. Free-use reader. Consensual borderline somnophilia. Masturbation (J). Language.

A/N: This combines two requests I received. Thank you to those anons. This is not connected to Control or Discovery.

Jessie stirred from her sleep, fidgeting in bed slightly until the tightness in her boxers warded off all residual drowsiness. She glanced down and even in the darkness of the room could see evidence of the arousal that had woken her from her sleep.

She exhaled a bit roughly in frustration. Not only at this nocturnal need she'd awoken with, but at the loss of sleep. She had an early practice and needed all the sleep she could get.

She huffed again and turned onto her side, closing her eyes as she tried to find sleep once more. Instead, she was sorely distracted by the throbbing between her legs, any movement doing nothing more than making the need more unbearable. Normally, it would pass on its own, but this particular instance persisted and she felt impatient.

She peeked over her shoulder to look at you. She could hear your breathing, so she should've known you weren't awake; still, when she saw you cuddled up in the blankets fast asleep, it disappointed her anyway. Sure, there was no guarantee you'd be interested in helping her with this particular hardship, but with you asleep there wasn't even a chance. Now, frankly, the erection straining in her boxers was merely a nuisance.

She released a muffled growl of complaint as she quietly tossed the covers off, careful not to wake you, before she padded over to your ensuite bathroom. She closed the door behind her and turned on the light, wincing and screwing her eyes shut for several seconds until ready to brave the bright lights again. She opened one eye, then two, still frowning heavily as her vision adjusted.

As she approached the toilet, she glanced down and was met with the sight of the blatant tent in her boxers from her arousal. She sighed once more.

Lifting her phone in one hand, she unlocked it and began to navigate to her hidden photos. A lazy smirk crossed her face as she accessed them and saw thumbnails of various photos of you in lingerie or fully naked posing for her. Her favourite of all were the ones of you touching yourself, positioned on your back, legs spread.

Her mouth opened in appreciation of the photos and she slipped her other hand into her boxers to pull out her hard cock, it standing stiff and erect now unencumbered by the fabric. She reached out to grab some lotion and returned her hand to her cock, wrapping her fingers around it and massaging the lotion along her length. She lingered at the tip, circling it with her thumb and couldn't help but picture your skillful tongue doing the work instead.

She moaned softly at the vision in her head.

Returning her attention to her phone, she opened up one of the photos. She'd caught several glorious shots of you masturbating. In this one, your hand was between your legs with two of your fingers spreading your lips while a third pushed inside you.

"Fuck," Jessie whispered as she began to stroke herself more fully.

The next image was you rubbing your clit, your head tossed back, sprawled on the bed you two shared. She began to slowly rock her hips into her waiting hand as her mind delightfully reminded her of how good it felt to be inside of you. God, she loved how tightly you hugged her, the sounds you made - the ones that came from your mouth, and the ones that came from between your legs - the way you scratched up her back. It was incredible.

Her shoulders rounded as she ran her fist up and down her length, focusing on pumping just the tip for several seconds before thrusting all the way down and back up.

She wanted more.

She flicked over to a short video you let her take. A loud moan briefly echoed off the bathroom walls before she quickly lowered the volume so it was barely audible.

Her chest rose and fell as she took in the sights and sounds of you pleasuring yourself.

"Jess."

"Oh my God."

"Baby, I need you."

You chanted over and over for her to hear.

Her breath started to hitch as her hand pumped hard and fast around her cock, her hips jacking into her fist as the telltale tightening between her legs began to culminate.

A series of muffled grunts emanated from her throat as her jaw grew slack and her climax hit. Her whole body tensed as ropes of cum shot forcefully from her aching member.

"Shit," she grunted, lost in and distracted by the video of you she wasn't paying attention when she started to cum and the first few spurts hit the lifted lid before she redirected.

A couple more soft grunts fell from her open mouth as her fist travelled up and down her length a few final times, coaxing out the last drops of cum from the tip.

She sighed heavily as she shook herself out and took a moment to rest. She let go of her cock and it slowly began to relax, the tension it previously held now relieved. Her cheeks puffed out as she exhaled once more before cleaning herself up. She flushed the toilet, tucking her now dormant member away into her boxers and washed her hands before quietly returning to bed.

She got under the covers and settled in, her eyelids now heavy in the wake of her orgasm. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep.

-----------

The next morning, Jessie quietly got changed, no need to pack her bag as she'd prepped it the night before and it sat ready by the door. You were still asleep and she was about to leave when you spoke, startling her.

"Did you have a good sleep, baby?"

She jolted, nearly dropping her phone.

"Shit. I didn't know you were awake," she breathed as she turned to you. A hint of a playful grin pulled at your lips.

"I don't think you knew last night either," you said, your smile now full-blown.

"Huh?" Jessie asked innocently, though she suddenly stood pin-straight and her face began to feel hot.

You rolled more fully towards her, now planting your elbow on the bed and propping your chin in your open hand.

"Was someone a little frustrated last night?" You asked cheekily. Jessie's face burned hotter and she deflected with a frown though she couldn't hold your gaze.

"No. I don't know what you mean," she mumbled before forcing herself to look back at you and doing her best to appear nonchalant.

Your eyes drifted meaningfully towards her pants and back up.

"Okay," you said lightly. "Well, I'll just say that if you ever find yourself in a," you looked up at the ceiling in contemplation, "compromising, position again, I would be very happy to help."

Jessie pouted, nearly scowling at you even though everything you said was welcoming and encouraging. She huffed and folded her arms, finding herself suddenly very intrigued by everything around the room other than you.

"You don't need to hide it from me," you went on gently. This drew her gaze back to you. Still, she set her shoulders.

"Well, you were asleep. I wasn't about to wake you," she said, her tone borderline complaining.

"You can wake me, you know," you said before you cocked your head, contemplative once more. "And honestly? I'd welcome you waking me up with your," you glanced at her crotch again, "midnight or morning frustration."

Jessie flushed deeply all over again.

"No," she said adamantly with a stern frown.

"Why not?" You countered. You sat up, your eyes bright now. "It would actually be really hot."

She found herself getting flustered; conflicted between what she felt was right and what her mind was conjuring up along with how her body was starting to react. She shook her head in dismissal.

"No, I can't," she said.

You sighed in disappointment. "Fine. But, for the record, I would find it really hot to wake up to you filling me, pumping in and out of me."

"Fuck. Babe," Jessie complained as she shoved her phone in her back pocket and retreated to the bedroom doorway. She pushed away the vague realization that blood was starting to fill her cock and she could feel a partial erection forming. "I'm going to practice," she said tersely.

"Okay, baby," you said, a hint of apology in your tone. "Have a good practice. I'll see you later."

---------

Jessie was less than focused at practice that day. She'd be in the moment on second, following along, keenly alert and aware, then all of a sudden she'd fallen behind or lost track of discussion because her mind was drawn back to your earlier comments.

Her imagination was having a field day.

When she got home, she still felt a bit frazzled and unsettled. You, on the other hand, acted like everything was normal and fine. She half expected you to bring up the conversation from this morning, but you didn't. In fact, she was hoping you'd bring it up again, but sure enough, you didn't say a thing about it and the evening carried on.

She'd debated all night whether or not she should just get up the courage to mention it herself, but the right opportunity never seemed to come around and she didn't know how to broach it otherwise.

Before she knew it, you were both getting ready for bed. You each followed your routines, closing out with Jessie filling your water bottle and setting it on your nightstand before she navigated to her side of the bed and got in.

"Thanks babe," you said, as you plugged in your phone, leaning out of the bed to do so and the blankets slipping off slightly as you moved. Jessie wouldn't have though much of it except her eye caught a glimpse of your body naked from the waist down. She did a double take.

You never wore shorts or pants to bed unless if you were staying with her family or friends or you were out camping. However, that didn't mean you went to bed without underwear. That is, until tonight.

You talked idly to her as you checked your alarm and you had to repeat yourself because she was so distracted.

Yet, despite going to sleep with no panties on, you wished her a good night and just rolled over and went to sleep.

"Y/N?" She whispered after several minutes; sure enough, you were out.

She sighed wearily and reached over to turn off the lamp. It was going to be a restless night.

------

After struggling to initially fall asleep, it came as no surprise to Jessie when she woke up a few hours later, fresh from a vivid, luscious dream, to find herself straining in her boxers yet again.

She grit her teeth and pushed the back of her head into the pillow, burrowing in as she worked to distract herself so she could find some relief, and hopefully, sleep.

The minutes passed and she blew out a huff as the dull throbbing in between her legs persisted and gnawed at her. She cursed herself as she allowed one hand to snake down and begin caressing herself through the fabric.

Instead of finding relief, it just made her hungrier for more. She should’ve known better.

She opened her eyes to stare blankly up at the darkened ceiling. Her eyes shifted to look over at you to see your silhouette. She could hear your slow, steady breaths, but her eyes remained trained on you as your comments from the morning ricocheted back and forth in her mind.

You were direct and explicit with the consent. You repeated yourself, even. But did you really mean it? Just because you said it in that moment didn't necessarily mean anything.

She thought back to the flash of skin she saw as you leant out of bed.

It had to be an invitation.

You knew her too well.

She reached through the slit of her boxers to free her cock from the confines of the garment. She exhaled silently through her lips as her fingers traced along her length, her thumb settling on the head and finding a bead of precum.

She contemplated a moment longer before she committed, rolling gently onto her side and shifting closer to you. You were on your stomach facing away, your far leg up and bent at the knee and your arms tucked under the pillow. Jessie's heart raced as she tentatively reached out and very gingerly rest a hand on your hip. You didn't stir, and it also confirmed for her that you were most definitely not wearing underwear.

Feeling a touch more bold, Jessie very gently began to run her hand down your bare thigh, her fingers barely touching your skin. You still didn't react as she drew her hand back up to your ass, her thumb idly grazing your skin.

She examined your sleeping form once more and between the feel of your curves and skin under her hand and the prospect of being inside your warm, inviting pussy, her cock was now painfully hard.

She moved carefully once more as she allowed her hand to wander downward and soon her hand could feel the heat radiating from your core. She swallowed and slowly brought four fingers to very gently cup your heat. A pulse of arousal went through her at the initial contact.

She watched you closely, your breathing changed, but you didn't stir. She remained entirely still for several seconds as she debated whether or not to continue or retreat. When your breathing grew audible once more, she slowly drew her fingers back towards your entrance.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes fell shut as her fingers were met with your slick juices that pooled there. The pulse that went through her just moments before repeated ten fold at the sensation and she couldn't resist the urge to circle your entrance with her thumb, your tunnel so wet with arousal that her digit easily breached it and slipped in to her first knuckle.

Her eyes flew open as something akin to a subtle moan escaped you and you shifted against her. She froze, but your reaction - subconscious or not - had stoked something inside of her and after a moment she withdrew her thumb, before pushing in slowly again, this time coupled with two fingers very gently circling your clit.

She watched as you very subtly stirred, a faint moan leaving your lips and your body pressing itself further into the bed just so.

Minutes prior, Jessie had been concerned about getting lube without waking you, but based on how absolutely soaked you were, that wasn't going to be a need for worry.

She flexed her muscles and very delicately lifted herself off of the mattress to position herself better and gingerly lowered herself so she was lined up with your entrance. She grasped her length and softly ran it along your slick lips, allowing your juices to coat her. She felt your folds part for her as she gently pushed the head of her cock through them and across your clit with her hand as a guide. She drew back and pushed through again.

A slow smile formed on her face and she did it again with greater confidence. She did it a few more times, each time drawing further back until each time her tip nestled against your dripping entrance. She resisted the urge to slip inside and instead kept stroking your lips and clit.

She saw your shoulders flex and your head lolled into the pillow. Your breathing changed once more and you shifted further. Her pulse quickened once more as she realized you were waking and she paused mid-stroke.

She saw you blink in the dark of the room before your eyes fell closed once more, not even bothering to look back at her, and you simply rolled your hips against her hardness.

Jessie took a sharp breath at the gesture and she drew her hips back, her hand still guiding her cock, but this time when her head slotted into the inviting dip of your entrance, she gently pushed the tip inside.

You moaned quietly and she smiled as your head rolled against the pillow further.

Encouraged, she pushed in slightly before drawing back so her tip was stretching out your entrance, threatening to slip out, before pushing fully inside.

This time you moaned fully and deeply, your back arching as she slotted home. No longer needing to guide herself, she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer to her.

She rotated her hips back, her cock withdrawing partially before rotating forward and massaging your walls as she filled you up once more. A moan muffled by your pillow reached her ears.

Not worried about waking you any longer, Jessie began to thrust into you with increasing pace and intensity. She held your body in place as her firm cock hit that pillowy sweet spot inside of you again and again.

Your whimpers and moans grew louder and she heard the twisting of fabric as you clutched the sheets into your palms. You shifted your far leg higher up the bed, inviting her in further and she wasted no time.

“Mm, Jess.”

You opening yourself up and moaning her name dismissed any and all lingering reservations she had.

She lifted herself up more, consequently pushing you flatter onto your stomach, her hands braced on the small of your back. She began to lift her hips high, her tip nearly slipping out before driving quickly into you, her hips bouncing off of your ass, the clapping of skin now echoing off the walls.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered as you white knuckled the sheets further and buried your face into the pillow.

“You feel so fucking good,” Jessie said, voice shaking in time with her quick, skillful thrusts. “God. It’s like you were made for me,” she praised, digging her fingers into your skin over the thought.

You let out a small cry and spread your legs further apart, pulling an appreciative growl out of her. She slowed her pace slightly and dug her hips into you even deeper, and angling to hit your g-spot more firmly. You clutched the pillow now, holding onto it with a desperation that fuelled her.

“You’re such a tease. Climbing into bed, pussy on display for me, knowing what that’d do to me,” Jessie voiced as she pumped you into the mattress.

You let out a wanton moan, but flashed an impish look over your shoulder at her.

“Waking up to your cock teasing me is as good as I thought it’d be,” you relayed with a breathy laugh. You moaned again as Jessie sent another jolt of pleasure through you. You arched your back further into the bed. “Next time I want to wake up to you fucking me. I want to wake up with your cock stretching me out.”

“Oh Jesus,” Jessie groaned as she fucked you harder, drawing a gasp from you. “Oh shit,” she hissed as her orgasm rapidly approached and her strokes grew fervent.

Soon the pace was relentless and you let out a cry into the pillow, gripping it tightly to your face. You writhed beneath her and a rush of liquid poured out of you and onto the sheets. You began to spasm around her and continued to muffle your cries with the pillow.

“Oh fuck,” she panted, letting the sensations overwhelm her as she slammed into you one more time, releasing her seed as deep inside of you as possible. She grunted through her orgasm as she felt jet after jet of cum rush up her length and out the tip into your waiting heat.

“Oh my God,” she said breathlessly several moments later as she finally drew her hips back unsteadily, stuttering forward as her orgasm tapered off.

She collapsed on top of you, cock still buried in you, fully warmed and embraced by your walls. Her chest expanded and contracted as she tried to catch her breath. She laid a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

The primal haze of your fucking still lingered and she spoke as she gently stroked your arm.

“Forget safe words, if you don’t want to wake up with my cock inside of you going forward, wear your underwear to bed. Otherwise, if I wake up wanting you, I may just have to take you.”

You shifted beneath her restlessly, your tunnel tightening and gripping her as you moved - whether intentionally or not. “Mm, Jess. You’re going to work me up again. And I made a mess of the sheets already.”

She smirked. “Exactly. So what does it matter if you do it again? I’ll gladly do the laundry if it means I get to make you squirt all over this bed with how good I make you feel.”

“Oh Jesus,” you breathed, rolling your hips once more. Jessie was already growing hard inside of you again.

“And,” she kissed your other shoulder, “when I’m done. I might just fall asleep inside of you. Might as well if I’m going to fuck you as soon as I wake up.”