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#edited the text because i looked at him and thought
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Gentle On My Mind - Chapter 5
Initially set in 1967 when Elvis is filming Clambake. Feeling miserable and trapped after the Colonel banishes Larry and the spiritual texts, Elvis invites Gloria to keep him company through the last five days of filming. Gloria is an aspiring movie editor and more importantly she's a lot of fun. Will she be what Elvis needs to get him out of the depressive funk he's in?
Catch up with the other parts here.
Many thanks to @sissylittlefeather being my beta reader on this one.
Pairing: Elvis x OC - Gloria, a budding film editor.
Word count: 4.2k ish
TWs: Gloria's filthy mouth, angst, infidelity, blowjob, fingering, p in v sex, possessive kink, size kink, spanking, Elvis is quite dominant, think that's about it.
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Elvis spends that afternoon’s filming trying very hard to concentrate on his lines and not daydream back to his lunch break, him almost dragging Gloria back to his trailer, both of them giggling like naughty kids and probably making what they were about to do incredibly obvious to half of the film crew. Going through additional takes of some of the opening scenes in the gas station, he fights the urge to think about the feeling of Gloria’s mouth all around him as he leant breathless up against the wall. Tries to forget for a few minutes the puzzle of what it was she’d done with her mouth and hands that had made him come so quickly right down her throat. Between takes, chatting to Shelley about how hot it is and whether that makes LA seem more like Florida, he repeatedly pushes the thought that this was the second time he’d left Gloria full of his come out of his mind. 
Gloria also finds herself a little distracted, her mind drifting back to the fun they’d had at lunchtime. But, as she walks back to his trailer at the end of the day, a little later than usual because she’d got so stuck into what she was doing, she reflects that maybe she’s actually learning enough to get herself a proper job. Or at the very least, enough to make those stuffy old men think that she knows what she’s doing. She bites the skin beside her thumbnail a little, thinking briefly about going back to San Francisco, and then her mind drifts back to Elvis in the trailer earlier, his hand over his mouth so everyone on the film set wouldn’t hear him moaning as she sucked him off. She’s pretty impressed with herself for somehow stuffing all of that dick into her mouth and down her throat, it’s definitely a record. 
“Where you been, honey?” 
Elvis is sprawled on the couch, taking up the entire thing. She looks down at him. 
“Got sucked into editing. I’m really enjoying it, I can’t believe how interesting it is when people actually let you do things rather than just making you get them coffee.” She picks his feet up just enough to give her space to sit down, replacing them on her lap. “Thanks for making it happen it for me.”
“No problem, Glory.”
She tilts her head to the side. “You okay?”
“Hmmm. You ever been to Hawaii?”
“Family vacation in Honolulu a few years ago.”
“Did ya like it?”
She nods, her hands resting on his shins. “Mmm yeah. Beach life. It’s definitely a nice vacation spot. But there are beaches here!” 
Elvis frowns. “Can’t really go to the beach here. Too busy.”
Gloria doesn’t miss a beat. “Not if you went in disguise,” she suggests. “Why don’t we sneak off now and go to the beach and get dinner there? Instead of just sitting in here and eating burgers again.”
Elvis is briefly completely baffled by this turn of events, and he’s about to say he probably needs to take at least one of the guys with him, and that he doesn’t know if there will be food he wants to eat at the beach, and that he really doesn’t go places that are so busy… and then he just doesn’t say any of those things and instead just says “okay.”
Gloria sits for a few seconds blinking in confusion. She had been expecting a little more resistance, but since she hasn’t got it she just pushes his legs out of the way and leaps up off the sofa. 
“Let’s go!”
***
They take her car, and he hides in the backseat as they drive off the set. Gloria has a hard time keeping a straight face driving through the gates, thinking of him in shorts and a denim jacket she’d somehow found for him to wear, lying down as flat as possible. Once they’ve got far enough up the road she pulls over and he gets out and into the front seat. She can’t help giggling at him. She’d jammed a baseball cap on his head and made him wear his shades too, and he looks successfully nothing like himself. He had complained a lot, looking at his reflection in the long mirror in the trailer, but he relented when she put her arms around him and kissed his neck and told him she thought he looked sexy. She wasn’t lying. Looking at him now, once the giggles have subsided, she thinks he looks really good. More casual than usual, which she likes. And he’s not wearing too many clothes. One of her main gripes with the movie, whenever she stops to watch a take or two, is that they’ve over-dressed him. Since it’s meant to be set in Florida, she’d have expected him in shorts and a t-shirt a bit more often. And more sensible shoes. She does have a soft spot for that all-denim outfit, especially remembering him changing out of it and giving her her first glimpse of the outline of that fucking huge dick, but it still seems an odd choice for the movie. 
“What’re you thinking about, Glory?” 
She shakes her head a little and looks over at him. “Your fantastic outfit.”
“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.”
“I like it.”
“Even this?” Indicating the baseball cap.
“Even that. In fact, you can leave that on later if you want, in bed.”
She starts to giggle again. Elvis shakes his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I know.”
He smiles as he looks across at her. She’s just put the top down on her car so her golden hair blows gently around her face under her sun hat. Her hazel eyes are shining with amusement and he watches her tanned arms on the steering wheel. She drives comfortably, seat back, keeping her eyes on what she’s doing but never looking remotely bothered by anything that happens. The car never jolts, the whole journey is a very smooth ride and Elvis wonders if he’s ever been driven by a woman who is this good at it. 
“God must’ve sent you to me,” he murmurs, almost to himself. 
“God?” She asks, spinning the steering wheel quickly as she looks for a space to park. “I’m agnostic, I don’t know if he’d have sent me. Probably would’ve wanted you to have a true believer.” 
She sticks her tongue out slightly in concentration as she backs the car up into a space. Elvis frowns slightly. 
“Agnostic?” 
“Hmm yeah. C’mon, we’re good, I’ve just seen a hot dog stand over there too. I bet you like hot dogs.”
“You don’t believe in God?” Elvis asks, following her as she bounds out of the car, barely stopping to lock it before she runs over to get in the line for the stand.
Gloria shrugs her shoulders. “Don’t think we can know so I don’t try. Maybe there is one, maybe there isn’t. Presumably I’ll find out eventually. Two hot dogs please, one with extra mustard.”
Elvis blinks at the heady mix of theology and fast food. He puts his arm around her as they walk down to the beach together. There are a lot of people, but none of them give him a second glance.
“I read the bible every day,” he tells her, somehow becoming deadly serious. “God is an important part of my life.”
She nods. “That’s cool. I wish I could believe in God but I just don’t have it in me. What about here?” She gestures to the bit of sand just in front of them. 
“Sure.” 
They sit down and start to eat. “You just believe in that white bearded guy up in the sky, or anything else?” She asks, with a mouthful of food. 
Elvis laughs and finds himself suddenly less serious again. “I’m interested in a lot of things. I’ve got this book which shows you how to calculate your number, and once you do that you can find out about your destiny and…”
“Numerology!” Gloria declares, completely interrupting him. “I love that shit.”
Elvis is immediately torn between loving her enthusiasm and being embarrassed by how loudly she just cussed.
“I’m a five, look,” she shows him the bracelet on her arm which has the number 5 hanging off it in the form of a golden charm. “What’re you?”
“An eight.”
“Oooooh we’re so compatible!” 
Elvis laughs. He finishes his final bite of hot dog and looks into her eyes. “Well it makes sense that you’re a five. It’s the number of freedom.”
“Yeah and I am still free from my panties, which I have to say is a very dangerous situation on this beach.”
“Oh. You could’ve brought a swimsuit.”
“Well no-one told me that!”
Their eyes sparkle as they tease each other back and forth, getting in a little play fight which ends with Elvis lying on his back in the sand, his cap knocked off, and Gloria half-sprawled on top of him. 
“Okay, so what are eights like then?” She asks, once she’s got her breath back.
“Great leaders,” Elvis replies, then giggles. 
“Oh, great leaders. I see. I’m just a mad impulsive girl who came to the beach with no swimsuit and you’re gonna be the president or something.”
He pulls her closer to him with the arm that’s currently wrapped around her shoulders. 
“It doesn’t look like I’m going to be the president right now, does it? No-one here has recognised me. Not one person.”
She puts her chin on his chest. “You’re in disguise.”
He huffs. “I was wearing a hat.”
They lie there for a while longer, talking about their respective numbers and debating whether Elvis wants to be recognised or not, and then he looks at his watch. 
“Think we should be getting back, Glory. The guys will be wondering where I am.”
***
Gloria notes the look of disappointment on Elvis’ face when he discovers that far from sending out a search party for him, no-one had even realised he hadn’t been in the trailer for the whole evening. 
“Can’t even pay people to give a shit about you,” he mutters, throwing himself melodramatically onto the bed, even though it's still early. 
Gloria kicks off her sandals and tries to dust the sand off her feet before getting onto the bed next to him. “I give a shit about you,” she says quietly, into his neck. 
Elvis is startled into looking down at her. He can’t see her face, buried as it is in the crook of his neck, but she sounds sincere. “I’m sure you do, honey.” He runs his fingers through her hair. 
She doesn't like his tone. It sounds like he’s dismissing her feelings, which had sort of snuck out of her when she wasn’t looking. She does give a shit about him though. It’s hard not to. 
“Well I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
Elvis isn’t sure how to respond. He had thought that she just liked sleeping with him. But she has spent a lot of time listening to him over the past few days. 
“Um, thanks,” he mumbles, awkwardly. 
Gloria sighs quietly. Never mind her feelings then. Back to being her usual fun, sunny self. Only one day of filming left anyway. There’s no point in getting deep. 
***
The final day of filming is a busy one for Elvis, and he barely has a moment to himself. He looks longingly at Gloria from time to time, but there’s no opportunity to talk let alone anything else. He keeps thinking back to what she said about giving a shit about him. Running the conversation over and over again in his mind, he feels like he should’ve said something better than thanks, but once he’d missed his initial opportunity she had just started prattling on about numbers again. And not long after that she’d taken her dress off and he’d forgotten all about anything she might’ve said. 
“That’s a wrap!” 
Elvis sighs with relief at the words. It’s fairly late and he’s desperate to be alone with Gloria, on their final day together. Then he remembers the wrap party. There’s no way he’s going to get away without going, and probably staying for most of it. He doesn’t have any excuses. 
***
Gloria flits about the party, talking to anyone and everyone. She loves an opportunity to socialise, and this is even better because she’s making contacts in the industry too. Contacts outside of her daddy and his friends. And because no-one knows who she is, they treat her differently. With respect. She can see Elvis out of the corner of her eye, his flirting with Shelley getting almost completely out of control. She knows he’s trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t care about him flirting with actresses. After all, it’s not as if they’re going to be together after tonight. He’s going home to marry Priscilla. 
***
Elvis is pulling out all the stops with Shelley. Laughing loudly at everything she says that’s remotely funny, leaning in close to her when she’s talking quietly, carefully brushing a strand of hair from her face. Even going so far as to wrap an arm around her waist. Shelley’s enjoying herself but she’s not daft. She can see Elvis’ eyes flicking across to the pretty blonde on the other side of the room to see if she’s noticed what he’s doing. Shelley is amused that Elvis Presley is trying to get a girl’s attention, and in such a roundabout way. She decides to help him out a little. 
“Do you think it would help her notice if I did this?” She asks, putting both of her arms around his neck and looking up into his slightly surprised face. 
“Ah-I-I… I dunno what you’re uh… talking about,” he replies, stumbling over the words but putting his hands on her hips instinctively. 
“Ah come on, yes you do. You’re flirting with me to get her attention!”
“Oh no, baby, I wouldn’t do that… I-I-” 
“If you wanted to talk to me you just had to come over.”
Elvis looks away from Shelley’s amused face to see Gloria standing next to her. 
“Oh-Ah-I… honey, I jus’...” 
Both women laugh as Shelley removes her arms from around his neck. “See you later. Nice working with you again,” she tells him, giving him a kiss on his now burning cheek. 
“You looked busy,” Elvis tells Gloria, sheepishly. 
“I was networking.”
“Networking?”
“Yeah, you know. Making friends who don’t know who my daddy is.”
He nods. “I’m dying to get out of here.”
“Me too. Think you have to do a bit more though,” she nods at a man with a moustache making a bee-line for them. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. You can just come over and tell me this time.”
***
They finally get back to the trailer in the early hours of the morning. They’re barely through the door before they start pulling at one another’s clothes in an attempt to get them off. 
“I’m disappointed I was too busy filming to do this earlier,” Elvis pants, between frantic kisses. 
“Me too,” Gloria moans as he starts to kiss her neck. “And I hate that the party went on for so long. God, I thought we’d never leave.”
He unclasps her bra now that he’s taken her dress off. “When Bill started that speech…” he groans, then slides his mouth over her nipple. 
“The world’s longest, most boring speech, you mean?” She arches into his mouth as her hands find his belt and undo it. 
“Mmmm. Worst. Speech. Ever.” He punctuates each word with kisses that get lower and lower until his mouth is just above her clit. 
She squirms, her hands in his hair trying to push his head further down. He smirks and kisses his way back up her body again, lips finding hers. Moaning into his mouth, she grabs one of his hands and tries to guide it to where she failed to get his head to go. He chuckles as he pulls away from her again. 
“Needy little girl, aintcha?” He teases. 
She nods. “Been needy for you all day, big boy. Feel.” Finally managing to get his hand between her legs, she directs his fingers to run over her soaking pussy. 
He groans. “Bet ya ruined that skirt you were wearing earlier.”
“Yeah, it’s actually a great way to give yourself extra laundry,” she jokes. “As I’m sure you know, Mr. I Don’t Wear Underpants.” 
“Don’t do my own laundry,” he replies, before picking her up and putting her over his shoulder. “Right, you. Bed.”
Gloria squeals and kicks her legs and he gives her a quick sharp slap on the ass. She squeals again, in surprise and delight. Walking the few steps to the bedroom, he throws her down onto the bed so hard she bounces back up slightly. 
“Oooh Mr Dominant!” 
He shakes his head, trying to look stern but unable to keep himself from smiling. “It’s Mr Presley.”
She throws her head back and laughs uncontrollably. “Oh, is that what you want me to call you?”
Still giggling until she finds him on top of her, pinning her hands above her head, his eyes full of lust. “No, you know what I like you to call me. My needy girl.”
She moans a little at the name, trying to wriggle her hands free but unable to get away from his firm grip. “I want you… so bad… big boy,” she whines, arching towards him, desperate for more contact. 
“Think I might want to tease you a little first.”
She can’t resist trying it, despite what he just said. “Yes, Mr Presley.” 
He feels his dick get immediately harder at her words. He hadn’t thought he’d like it, usually people calling him Mr Presley made him feel old. But her cute west coast accent, her fluttering eyelashes and the slightly desperate tone in her voice have changed his mind. He leans down, kissing the skin just beneath her ear. 
“You can keep doing that.”
She bites her lip and rolls her body into his, now he’s that bit closer. “Yes, Mr Presley.”
He groans. Fuck. It’s going to be more difficult to tease her than he thought, if she keeps saying that. It’s going to be very hard for him to not just come in his pants. He kisses her again and then shifts so he can take the rest of his clothes off. Leaning back over her, he starts kissing gently down her body, enjoying watching her squirm trying to get him to move more quickly, deliberately stopping and peppering her with kisses just below her belly button until she’s groaning in frustration and begging him to move lower. 
“Please. Oh fuck. Please. I’m dripping for you.”
His eyes roll back in his head at the description and he decides to give her what she wants, spreading her legs with his palms and kissing her soaking wet pussy. She moans pornographically, hands grabbing his head as she grinds her hips up into his face, completely ignoring the fact that he’s only gently kissing her. He growls against her, vibrations making her moan even more loudly. Grabbing her hands and pulling them off his head, he looks up at her. 
“Don’t think my girl is doing as she’s told.”
She whines and wriggles. “I just want you to touch me…”
Shaking his head, he suddenly grabs her and wrestles with her until he has her over his knee. He brings his hand back and then slaps her hard on one ass cheek. She squeaks. 
“Feel like my girl needs to learn her lesson.”
Gloria rubs her thighs together, desperate for some friction. She’s so turned on she can barely stand it. She’s starting to wonder if she could just just come from him spanking her and calling her his girl. 
“Yes, Mr Presley,” she breathes. 
He bites his lip and tries really hard not to let on how much he’s enjoying this, though he’s sure she must be able to feel his erection digging into her. Slapping her ass again, he watches it jiggle and get red and listens to her moan and whine. Then he slides two fingers into her pussy. 
“Oh, fuck.”
Her head flops down onto the bed as she feels his fingers slowly thrust in and out, pleasure building inside her. Just as she’s starting to really enjoy herself he removes them and slaps her again. She screws her eyes shut and tries to control the noises that are coming out of her mouth as he continues alternating between touching her and spanking her. Eventually she completely loses control. 
“Oh fuck please Elvis please I want you so bad I’m sorry for being a bad girl.”
He chuckles and gently lifts her head with his other hand. “I better put ya out of your misery, huh?”
Her head flops back down again as he starts rubbing her clit quickly, pushing his thumb inside her, listening to the pleasured noises she makes as her orgasm builds quickly and then completely overpowers her. 
“FUCK.” 
If he thought her cussing on the beach was too loud, this was on a completely different scale. He puts his hand over her mouth as he gently rubs her through her high, shushing her. Her hot breath and mumbled curses against his skin. He doesn’t let her lie there for long though, he’s so desperate to have his fill of her.
“On your knees, baby.”
She gets up slowly until she’s kneeling on the bed, looking up at him expectantly. 
“No, not like that. Hands and knees.” He gestures at her to turn around so she’s facing away from him. 
He strokes her ass with one hand and his dick with the other. “All that looking at your ass made me want you like this.”
Her moans start off soft and soon crescendo again as he starts to push inside her. Groaning as he finally bottoms out, he pushes her head down onto the bed. 
“I need you to be quiet.”
She whimpers a little at the feeling of being so stretched in this position. “Yes, Mr Presley.”
Trying his best to hold it together at those words, his hands grip her hips as he starts to move inside her. She presses her face into the bed to muffle the noises she makes as he pulls almost all the way out and then slides in again, repeatedly. Elvis is driving himself crazy too, the intensity of the feeling of her all around his dick is almost too much. He gives up on moving slowly, his thrusts hard and fast now, making her body rock with each one. Her fingers dig into the mattress, trying to stop herself just collapsing on the bed with the force of his movements. He’s pounding her so hard she can feel tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. But it feels so good too. So good that she can feel her second orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.
Elvis is so close it’s almost killing him but he really wants to feel her walls squeeze him again. “Is my good girl going to come again?” He pants. 
“Y-yes… yes Mr Presley…” she pants back, getting up onto her forearms and pushing back against him with every thrust. 
His eyes roll back in his head and then all of a sudden he feels it, the squeeze of her walls around him as she falls forward onto the bed, only the force of him gripping her hips keeping her from collapsing completely. 
“Oh fuck,” he murmurs, and just like the last time it’s only one or two more thrusts before he’s coming too, deep inside her. Letting go of her hips they both collapse in a heap, breathing hard. 
He rolls off her and then pulls her into his arms, covering her face in kisses. She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck. Breath still uneven, he looks at her with grave seriousness. 
“Are you okay Glory? I don’t know what came over me then…”
Her mouth curls into an even bigger smile. “I’m great, thank you, Mr Presley.”
Wrapping a leg around his waist as she watches him cringe a little and blush.
“Oh God you’re never going to stop with that now, are you?”
“Never. Thought you were enjoying it. I know I was.”
He moves to kiss her neck. “Yeah I was,” he murmurs against her skin. “You sure I didn’t take it too far?” He looks up, his face worried. 
“No way. That was so hot. You can throw me around like that any time you want.”
She watches as his face changes from worry to a look that’s almost pride. Then it changes again to sadness as he remembers that “any time” will be over in a matter of hours. 
“Do you have to go back home tomorrow?” He asks, urgently. 
“I don’t have to do anything,” she replies. “But um, no I can stay, if that’s what you’re asking?”
Is that what he’s asking?
“Yes please. Please stay.”
***
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lokimobius · 2 months
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Tom Hiddleston opens up the BBC's coverage of the Paris 2024 Olympics Games
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starry-bi-sky · 8 months
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(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)
...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.
She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.
Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.
The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.
Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.
He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.
He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.
But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.
And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.
His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.
Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.
Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.
"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more
Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"
Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.
On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.
And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.
Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.
Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?
She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.
Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."
She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?
Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."
"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."
Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."
The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.
She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.
But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.
"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.
Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."
Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.
(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)
"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."
"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."
"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"
Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."
Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."
It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.
"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.
Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.
She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.
"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."
(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)
(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)
Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.
Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."
With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dpdc#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#sam is one protective gal. this scene went differently in my head. way differently. but alas. i am not complaining.#sam: if bruce wayne abandoned my best friend i'm gonna physically transform myself into a dragon and incinerate him. how dare he.#bruce and damian got to watch in real time as a random girl who knows danny suddenly realizes he's related to them. which is comical to me#because she suddenly goes from being disinterested but weirded out by damian. to suddenly looking at bruce like she's gonna kill him#which is very funny to me bc from their pov at first its like this random girl just speedran hating bruce. and then her parents bring up he#friend danny and then she calls him danyal. and suddenly its starting to click into place like 'oh fuck wait we may just have a lead on --#-- finding danyal and his whereabouts.' especially after sam's mom mentions the scar on his face. like wow. what a crazy ten minutes.#not seen but def happened: sam gets her phone out to go text danny in the corner. she's not gonna bring up the bruce thing yet. she needs#a pick me up. related note: danny and tucker know she's gone to some gala thing with her parents but not to a wayne gala. if danny had know#he may have told her that he was related to damian wayne. just to prepare her for that. not so sure on the writing in this one folks#but i also dont wanna go through and edit anything its like half past one in the morning and i also dont wanna wait until morning to post#when i can just do it now. and get instant serotonin. i thought of this scene in various ways. like sam calling damian 'danny' out of shock#and then quickly correcting herself. and then excusing herself very quickly. or her mentioning that damian resembles her friend danny a lot#so she was just thrown off by him. because i def think that could happen if sam has no reason to think that she needs to hide danny from th#waynes. i also thought about her parents mentioning that damian resembles danny a little bit. only for one of them to go 'oh no no couldn't#- be. how insulting to damian since the daniel they know has this horrid scar on his face.' and then go from there. either way i thought#a scene like this would be fun. get to also kinda explore how danny looks like from his friends' povs. of which he is#'our lovable jerk who is an ex-cult member and whom we will maim someone over.'#not a scene that was added but i wanted to: sam mentioning in parenthesis that she and tucker think danny was part of a cult prior to the#fentons. and that sometimes danny will say something alarming and sam and tucker will stare at him until he frowns and goes#“that... isn't normal. is it?” and tucker will clap his shoulder and cheerfully go “no buddy. no it isn't” bc i think the idea is funny.#sam is so focused on the idea that bruce abandoned/ignored/was unaware of danny's existence that she momentarily forgot that bruce may have
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lucalicatteart · 2 years
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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 3: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression
(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)
The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should throw a coin into the mysterious well ….
"After nearly ten minutes rummaging through the disorganization at the bottom of his backpack, he finally approaches the well once again, meager coin pouch in hand. He meticulously balances a little golden coin on the tip of his thumb, positioning it just so for an elegant coin flip… With a flick of his hand, the coin wobbles off, anticlimactically dropping into the darkness.. He pouts, leaning in to listen for a plonk as the coin hits the water but… nothing…. silence.. A few minutes pass and he shrugs, moving to pick up his bag and just continue his journey elsewhere, when suddenly a faint noise echoes from the well.. an almost cartoonish plopping sound, like wet feet slapping against stone..? The pitter patter grows closer and closer…then stops abruptly. The adventurer cautiously slinks over to the well, only to find.. a creature of some sort, clinging to the walls, staring up at him blankly. - What should he do next?"
#paventure posting#polls#choose your own adventure#(I saw a few people tag these as that and I guess it makes sense. hmm)#DAY 3!!! vote to choose this little man's fate#Sad that people did not want to go into the well.. :( Maybe we can still go in depending on how things go with#The Creachure. I mean I know I could just make whatever happen anyway since I'm the one doing it but. It has to feel natural lol#it would be obviously just me doing what I want if I was like 'oh uh we went to throw the coin in the well but he tripped and#fell and then somehow didnt die and whoops he's in the well anyway!!'' lol#I care more about things being realistic and natural than following whatever ideas seem interesting. If it was voted for him to explode#into a million pieces sadly I would simply have to explode him. audience says#let me know if the formatting of this is weird?? also? I wasn't sure where to put the slightly longer bit of text#so I kept it under a reas more just to the post looks neater. I thought it'd seem weird with a bunch of text blocks sandwiching the poll#and too much going on. But I also feel like it's organizationally weird if all the details are at the end? eh..#bt then at least it's optional. not everyone will want to read more. And it's not like.. amazing text lol#I'm slapping them out off of the top of my head with minimal editing because I have to get it done and I know if I make it too complicated#or become concerned with like things being Perfectly Revised then I will absolutely not be able to do it once a day#Same with the obvious sketchy ms paint art lol. But so like. I dont feel as bad about kind of having the text be options#*optional since it's not like 'omg this is so good u have to read this' it's like.. eh.. passable amount of detail ghbj#ANYWAY. and 'paventure' (poll + adventure) is just temporary so I have a way to tag this on the blog/keep up with the posts#in a organized way. I think 'padventure' is more obvious but that's already the name of other things and I didnt want the tags to be#confusing or like.. post in some random tag that people already use for something else#but the only thing I found when googling 'paventure' is like. .some venture capital business from PA. and who cares about that lol#explanation probably not needed but I think it sounds a bit silly so I'm justifying myself to myself lol#ANYWAY. lov his silly hat. I want to draw him more. I want to name him. I COULD DO A POLL TO CHOOSE A NAME#but that wouldn't fit in with any of the days lol. maybe if I make it a week actually doing it or something at the end of the week#I could do a bonus poll or something. ??? idk.. ANYWAY.. new day!
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Various images of things
#image commentary in tags once again since they don't allow captions anymore and I feel weird using the alt text for that --#1. PIBBINS.... cheering clapping hooting hollering glorious applause everytime I see a pigeon in public#2. Birthday card that I drew for someone. .. kittys...#3. 2023's annual haul of tiny white pumpkins.. i get at least one white pumpkin every year around fall when they have pumpkins in stores#because I just love the color and texture ... bright white and smooth and cold and round.. kind of like a volleyball or something#4. A brief adventure into watching big brother (only earlier seasons of course as I hate all reality shows post like 2013 or something when#they became overly focused on social media and overproduced memeable phrases more.. like even though ALL reality shows have always#been extremely fake and annoying and mindless it's like..... newer stuff seems A Different Kind Of Fake or something) since whenever#I'm sick sometimes I find weird mindless things like that to watch (that one time I had bronchitis I watched all of Flavor of Love in my#half awake illness stupor and now everytime I heat up canned minestrone soup (mostly all I ate that week) I think of flavor flav since#thats just a weird brain connection I have now lol) ANYWAY.. I was sick and watched like 2 seasons of this and then thought it was too#uninteresting and obnoxious to continue (more like 1 and a half since I skipped the rest of one once only boring people were left) BUT this#one guy had a very mischevious looking face and he also said a few things (like the above captioned speech) that sounded like dialogue#some fantasy character would say.. so I took a screencap of him and edited him into a mischevious wizard i guess.?? idk I was sick lol#~your little friend has a poisoned tongue~ is just a very unexpectedly serious sounding wording for some random normal#frat dude looking guy to say while casually chatting on a reality tv show in like 2008 or whenever that was filmed lol#5. FLUFFY CLOVERS!! I'd never seen them be furry and soft before?? inchresting..#6. Noodle sitting in bed with the cat figurines looming above him... the council of kittys...#7. McDonald's full breakfast platter + asparagus + strawberries & cream (also of course this is old and I am now boycotting mcdonalds etc)#i try to group the images somewhat consistently like.. winter stuff with winter stuff or summer stuff with summer stuff#but I have so many random pictrues floating around on my computer that I never post that sometimes some are not organized or just#thrown into a set because there's nowhere else for them. Like the pigeon picture is from like 3 years ago for example lol#8 & 9 - I think I've posted these before but I just find them very interesting looking flowers. whenever they happen to be blooming#I'll pick up a few when I'm out on walks or etc. ... poof ball looking things#photo diary
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starlightbright · 4 months
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RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔
EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.
I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.
THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.
That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.
So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.
Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.
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sweetnans · 4 months
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Bakugo likes to pretend that he's not that into you. Well, that's only when you two have seen each other like what? two times? Because once he becomes a boyfriend, he's all in, go big or go home, and he obviously likes to go big.
But that's not the case. Yet.
You two met in a convention. You've heard from him a thousand times because being the number one hero doesn't go unnoticed. Bakugo introduced himself to you forced by his friends because they thought you were cute and completely his type, Kaminari pushed him to you and Bakugo never thought that after that bold act of his friend, he would be so grateful.
The second time you shared space and air with Dynamight was in a fight. A super wanted villain appeared on your quadrant and he went as a back-up (he knew that was your quadrant) his friend teased him all day and all week because he literally crossed the city to see you. He scolded them, but deep down (unconsciously) knew he was balls deep (not literally) into you.
Staring at his room ceiling he couldn't believe how whipped he was, he denied the feeling everytime he started to think of you. He had only seen you twice and now your pretty face won't come out of his head.
The sound of his phone's notification echoed in his room and he was quick to snatch the phone from his bedside table.
Hey Dynamight look at the cool pictures the press took of us. 😎
It was you. How did you even get his number?
He opened your photo before opening the one you sent him. You were holding a kitty and smiling like it was the best thing that ever happened to you. You were wearing a yellow sundress, and the landscape was full of beautiful flowers. You looked so gorgeous he thought he would die.
Sorry if I bothered you. I know you're sort of a snob, and I wanted to make sure that you saw the photos 🤡
Bakugo was so surprised about your interaction that he completely ignored the snob part.
He needed to reply asap. He didn't want you to believe that you were bothering him.
Great photos. I don't mind you talking to me.
He deleted and wrote it a thousand times before send it and that was the best he came up to.
You laughed in your place. His friend have told you how he acted and now you were just checking it for yourself.
I just need to get this out of my chest before I faint and then I'll leave you alone 🙂‍↕️ I just have to tell you that you look incredibly massive in those photos 😳 you got me feeling some type of way 👩‍🦯
The blood in his system rose to his cheeks and he suddenly felt extremely hot. You were something else.
After that text he was speechless. He needed to clear his mind before sending something that would lead you to never speak to him again or worse never want to see him again.
He cursed himself because he was trying so hard to pretend you didn't turn his world upside down after seeing you only two times, but now, after those texts, he was absolutely sure he was completely head over heels.
Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.
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byuntrash101 · 2 months
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still your biggest fan. – 송민기.
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SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend is on the other side of the globe touring. somehow you fear the cheers of the fans will make him forget about you. so you decide to remind him you are still and will always be his biggest fan
or in which you find a novel way to use your lightstick and send the video to your beloved bf.
mingi x f!reader, smut, mdni
tags. etablished relationship, facetime sex, masturbation (f & m), BLACK UNDERCUT MINGI (!!!!!!!!), jealous + slightly possessive reader, but mingi reassures her (awwww), use of (unconventional) toys (wink wonk im insane pls stop me), pet names, multiple orgasms (f), praises, squirting. wc. 2k
a/n. this mingi has me feral and the concert videos got me in a chokehold. and it's only the first date i need help. also shout out to that one video of yungi saying they use the lightstick to "relax" at night. not proofread.
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There was one thing that was absolutely certain about Mingi: that man loved attention. That man lived for the roars of the crowd. When he danced, he was electrified by the cheers of the fans. And you knew your boyfriend was made to be on stage. He enjoyed the attention of fans, hence the fact he was constantly body rolling, hip thrusting and tongue poking. He loved to see the thousands of people thirst for him, he loved looking at all the concert videos all over the internet. He laughed and giggled at the tiktok edits, at the twitter threads, at every comment more over the top than the next.
Usually you don’t mind, you even enjoy them too. You like seeing him happy and fulfilled in his job but today maybe you’re a little insecure. He just flew out to start the American leg of the tour and you’re left behind in this bed that seems so empty. You fear somehow the loud cheers will make him forget about you. You don’t want that. You want to remind him. You want to make sure that today when he goes to sleep the last thing he sees is you. 
You looked at the time, your eyes darted to the digital clock on your night stand. At this time he was probably already at the hotel. It was pretty late for you but you wanted to send him a little treat, you knew how Mingi loved when you sent him videos of you playing with yourself and today you might add a little twist. 
You didn’t have much time if you wanted him to see the video before he slept…
***
Mingi was spent, true. But he was still pumped full of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shower with the ends of his raven black hair wet, the longer strands of his undercut dripping down. He didn’t even bother stepping into his pajamas, the AC was off and this part of the world in July was pretty hot. 
He tucked himself in bed, still wide awake. He looked at his phone, a text from you from several hours ago when you went to bed. You were probably sleeping right now. He debated responding, fearing he would wake you. But he pictures you pouting when you’d wake up in a few hours without a response from him and he couldn’t bear to make you feel that way so he typed a quick answer. 
🎀 princess #2: hope the show goes well (ik it will because you gonna kill it cause you the best😌). i lob you. you know that right? dont forget about me ok? <33333333
👸princess minki (real): i could never baby i love you more. hope you have a great day and i miss you baby <3
then for a second the three little dots appeared and Mingi thought he hallucinated it. But then an other text appeared.
🎀 princess #2: i’ll always be your first and your biggest fan
Mingi didn't even have time to reply that he received a video file. He faintly gasped at the thumbnail. It was your legs spread out on his bed. The big play button in the middle of the frame though blocked out the most interesting part and he didn’t even breathe before he played the video.
He continued to hold his breath when he saw you rub your clit throught your white panties. He didn’t know how long you did played with yourself but your panties were completely see through. Your juices were sticking to your folds, the laces barely concealing you anymore. But still, he needed these damn panties out of the way. 
He wanted to see you. His hand found his cock on instinct, immediately palming his hardening bulge. And his prayers were answered. You pushed the panties to the side uncovering the most beautiful sight Mingi had ever layed eyes on. He exhaled a long sigh when long strings of slick connected you to the thin fabric of the underwear. How bad he wanted to be there, to stuff your soaked panties into your mouth while he thrusted his thick fingers into you. How bad he wanted to feel you twitch around him. How bad he wanted to hear his name fall from your quivering lips as he brought you to your peak. He wanted you so bad.
But then you grabbed hold of something, something that emitted light… The lightiny? Mingi’s jaw hung open when he saw you bring the handle to your center, rubbing it through your folds, coating it with your juices before bringing it up to your hard clit playing with a little, prying beautiful muffled sounds out of your mouth. Just to bring the handle down again, you took a firm grip of the rounded part and pushed the handle inside your trembling core. 
“Fuck” Mingi exhaled as he started pumping his balled fist around his now fully hard cock, he kicked the covers off him just to be able to jerk himself off without resistance. 
“Nghhh” you moaned quietly as you bottomed out. “M-Mingi are you watching?” As if you could see him, Mingi nodded vigorously, qmd you gave more purpose to the coming and going of his wrist. “Keep watching me. K-keep- fuck aaaah. Keep looking at me. I’ll make myself cum for you, ok?”
“Fuck yes baby I wanna see it all.” Mingi replied in a strangled breath, his hand going to play with balls, while his other hand held the phone incredibly close to his face. if he could have he would have gone through the screen and right into you. 
You started to slowly bounce on the lightstick. You were obviously already really worked up, your pussy was clenching down on the shiny copper handle and the light was perfectly shining on your hard clit, making it obvious that you were pretty close. Red and swollen, ready to explode. Just how he liked.
So you did. In a few seconds your thighs were trembling and your movement became uneven. You started to squirt small translucent spurts, one then two.
“Fuck baby you’re so fucking hot” Mingi breathed and pumped himself faster. 
You took the copper handle out and rubbed your clit in tight and fast circles, squirting more translucent liquid and soaking the sheets. Your center quivering around nothing. You slowed down with a sigh and the video stopped.
Mingi felt like he was going to sink into eternal darkness and despair if he didn’t see more of you right now. His cock was twitching in his strong fist, his cockhead was leaking so much precum he wanted you to see him too. He wanted you to know what you did to him.
So he pressed FaceTime. It rang once, twice then you picked up. You looked disheveled and short of breath. Fuck how fucking beautiful you were. Mingi wanted to kiss you all over this pretty face of yours.
“Why do you torture me?” he said a little more whiny than anticipated. 
He was so cute with wet hair and his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. He flipped the camera to show you his swollen cock, hard, red and leaking. You bit you lip at the mouth watering sight.
“I just wanted you to remember me. That's all.” you started, your hand finding your folds once again. “Remind you I will always be your biggest fan”
“Fuck how could I forget about you? Are you insane?” he breathed out, his voice sounded strained, in pain almost. You could only imagine how worked up he was and this urgency in his tone compelled you to find a new angle to the video call. You balanced it on the covers and your wet pussy and the mess you made came into view again.
“Fuckkkk” Mingi sighed again, trying his hardest not to be too loud. San was next door and the last thing he wanted was for him to bring up his little intimate session with you tomorrow at breakfast. “You’ve made such a mess. I usually hate it but God I’d give everything to sleep in the wet spot tonight”. You saw him jerk himself off faster, his thumb spreading the precum all over his tip and dragging it down his shaft. Squeezing the head the bring out even more and repeat it again. 
“Please show me again” he didn’t intend to sound so desperate but it couldn’t be helped because he in fact was that desperate for you. “Please show me how you fuck yourself with the lightiny”
“O-okay” You brought it back and stuffed it inside your clenching little pussy with a sigh, your other hand spreading your lips apart, making sure Mingi had the first raw VIP view of the show. 
“Fuckkkk” he whined again. “You’re so fucking nasty for me, doll”
You chuckled, knowing your little scheme had worked. You knew right now he was only thinking of you. Completely pussy drunk even though he was thousands of miles away.
“I wish it was you inside me right now, Mingming”
“Fuck me too baby” he said strangling his cock tighter, more precum oozing out again. He was close judging by the way he kept on twitching in his own hand. The sight urged you to bounce harder on the handle of the lightstick, your pussy clenching around it, gliding so smoothly in and out of you while your other hand kept on abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Baby I-I’m close” he said, a certain rasp about his voice that was only giving more weight to his words. His fist was frantically moving along his cock, now mainly focussing on his tip, making the poor thing absolutely miserable: all wet and beet red, close to bursting.
“M-me too” you said,  feeling the familiar knot in the pits of your stomach approaching its rupture point. The premise of your orgasm manifested itself in the form of an other small sprut of transparent liquid “Nggghh fuck-” you gasped. “I’m c-cumming again” you whined, rubbing your clit faster, in thighter circles. You ripped the handle out of you and one big squirt came out of your abused little pussy, joining the existing mess in Mingi’s sheets. 
“Oh fuck baby” Mingi couldn’t peel his eyes of the screen. “Fuck baby me- Fuck… Me too” He watched as your thighs became weak and as your pretty little pusy gushed out more and more fluids. You were the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And he couldn’t possibly take it anymore. He let himself go. He abruptly stop stroking himself just to let the first big rope of cum sprout out of his slit and crash over his stomach. You moaned louder at the sight. He kept on stroking again, milking more delicious cum out of his twitching red cock, completely repainting his stomach with thick and white cum, grunting as his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards until it all stopped.
When he had caught his breath he approached the phone to show his stomach and scooped some of his spillage between his fingers. 
“Look what you did to me? Just cause you got a little jealous of the fans?” he chuckled.
“I did that?” you said appalled, “No you did that! Stop making me jealous and it won't happen again” He flipped the camera again and you couldn't help but to smile mindlessly at the screen. He was a complete wreck, sharp eyes half lidded, bottom lip swollen and red from being bitten and strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. This haircut made him ridiculously hot. A mischievous smirk pulled at his full lips.
“Or…” he trailed off. “I don't this stop and you make me dirty sexy videos after every show”
“Yeah” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice. “Let's see you do that! We’ll see how it goes when you came back” you challenged him. Your smile sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. He loved you but you definitely could be scary sometimes.
“You know what, I changed my mind. I'll just behave and you can reward me when I get home.”
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want more? try my fic facetime ♡
SYNOPSIS. mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick.
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churipu · 9 months
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jjk men & their sleepyhead gf !
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featuring. gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen, nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. none, just them being all soft and whipped for you
note. first of all, anon i am so sorry, i accidentally posted your request on the queue list and fml, i'm so embarrassed but idek how to edit the queue list so out of desperation i deleted it— but i ofc screenshotted this before i deleted the og post, so i am so sorry :(( i hope you enjoy this, and i hope you get to find out i didn't delete your ask and it's here in a form of a screenshot :((
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GOJO SATORU. i feel like he doesn't mind most of the time— he does mind it if you fall asleep when you're supposed to be paying attention to him >:(
but whenever you fall asleep, his camera's always on standby, snapping pictures of you from every angle. whether you look good or bad (you never look bad btw), from up above, from below, from the left, from the right, with 0.5, i can go on.
and when you wake up, you find your phone blowing up with notifications from shoko, geto, and him, especially with the notification "@gojosatoru tagged you in a post" and it's just a slideshow post of you sleeping, a few close up shots, and your face with different instagram filters.
you don't even bother at this point since he's not going to stop, and not gonna lie, you did find it a bit funny. and the comments from shoko and geto made you laugh, so... good luck trying to sleep around him, you'll wake up to a whole album of you sleeping on his account.
"satoru, what the fuck is this filter?" it was a filter that made your face a little distorted, and gojo'd just sitting there innocently, blinking his white lashes up at you.
"you look adorable, princess."
"i don't want to sleep around you anymore."
"no, please sleep— how am i supposed to continue my daily updates of you sleeping?"
mind you, he has 200 posts on instagram and 150 of them are just you sleeping + with the cheesiest captions like "my baby is sleeping, pls tell her to wake up bcs i miss her 🥺🥺🥺"
and shoko is all up in his comments like "wake her up yourself, dumbass she's literally in your house."
SUKUNA RYOMEN. the first time you fell asleep around him was when he went out to get a glass of water, but he didn't think of it as anything and thought you were just tired.
but no— you fall asleep anywhere, whenever and most of the time. he gets pretty frustrated when you both spend time, and in a bit, your head leans onto his shoulders and sukuna checks on you, and you were out like a light.
"y/n?" soft snores.
he clicks his tongue in annoyance but doesn't push you away or get angry, although he finds you cute. sometimes snaps a few pictures to keep, but you don't know about that.
and at times, you wake up all tucked in your bed—your favorite plushie beside you, and sukuna nowhere in sight.
you open your phone and there's a few text messages from him.
[ you fell asleep, so i left ] he didn't leave, he said that to make you feel bad and for not giving him enough attention— he stayed in the same seated position for a few hours before prepping you onto your bed, tucking you in and not forgetting to place a smooch on your forehead.
[ call me when you wake up ]
[ love you ] awww.
he's so in love with you.
NANAMI KENTO. he's such a gentle soul, he won't mind if you fall asleep or is asleep whenever he comes over. in fact, he enjoys it when you fall asleep.
he read somewhere that if someone feels tired or sleepy around a person, it's because they feel safe. so nanami just concludes that his girlfriend feels safe around him, safe enough for her to get sleepy and fall asleep on him.
"kento," you murmur half-asleep, stretching your arms.
"hm?" he hums out, opening his arms for you to fall into — which you did, and he craddled you in his arms, placing his cheek onto your head.
"night night." it wasn't even night time, you just had to say it before you go to sleep, and nanami finds you so cute he couldn't help but to squeeze you a little.
"night night," he replies back, kissing your forehead.
nanami just sits there and continues craddling you in his arms, and if he needs to go, he would put you on your bed (on his bed when it's his house), and writes you a short message why he needed to go and when he will be back.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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earth4angels · 2 months
Text
𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞
modern!jacaerys x f!reader ─── smut, vanilla sex, jace is a mama's boy, a lil english major who's serious about his academics, basically a goodie two shoes. reader is an adventurous cheerleader babe. p in v, love making as secretly as possible with his family at home (i know theyre freaky). not fully edited.
summary: finals season has arrived and jacaerys is worried about his championship game and passing his classes. he just did not think you would change the way of how studying could even work.
jace nation tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @intheheartoftheking @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @chuuritoz @melsunshine @frombloodandfire
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“Get it together jace,” Jacaerys muttered, his hands running through his already messy hair. His fingers tapped rapidly through the page of his text book as if the answers were going to appear magically to him.
“Jace. Mom has been calling you to eat for the past fifteen minutes, you know she hates lateness,” Lucerys stood by the doorway of his brother’s room a slight smirk on his face as he looked at his brother who now slammed his face onto the book.
“Geesh… and I thought I was terrible, you’re even worse,” Luke joked. Jacaerys only moved his head to peek at his younger brother before he threw a pen at his head.
“Get out Luke, tell Mom I am no-“
“Tell me what exactly? If you think I am going to let you go to sleep without eating, you are absolutely wrong my dear,” Rhaenyra crossed her arms, a stern look on her face that had Jacaerys scrambling on his feet to meet her.
“Sorry mother,” he muttered, he scratched his neck before he twirled his fingers around, Rhaenyra sighed. She entered the room with soft steps, Jacaerys had now stopped his nervous ticks the moment he felt his mother’s touch.
“You got this my sweet boy. You’re the bravest, and smartest boy, I have raised you well. I know you will finish strongly, or am I wrong?”
Jacaerys widened his eyes, “No mother.”
Rhaenyra ran her fingers through the mess of hair, she smiled softly, “Now, wash up. Your brothers are waiting for you, Daemon bought that movie you and Luke begged him to buy.”
Luke exclaimed excitedly before he ran down the hall to the dining room, Rhaenyra and Jace heard him thanking their step-father over and over. They chuckled together.
As Jace scored the winning goal, the team swallowed him onto the ground, he groaned. He only wanted to see the one person that motivated him, that came to every single one of his games to cheer for him loudly that he felt no trophy could ever top the love he had for you.
The crowd cheered loudly, Jace managed to escape the sweaty bodies of his teammates before he was wrapped with a warmth so familiar, he knew it was you. He caught you in his arms the moment you ran up to him, your smile making him feel weak in the legs. He would bring the world and the stars for you if you’d ask.
Your pom-poms covered both of your faces as you leaned down to kiss him, since you had jumped on him, your legs wrapped around his waist - he held you up, his arms tightly holding your thighs, pressing you close. Your rosy lipstick now stained his already plump lips.
He groaned in satisfaction, you pulled away, giggling when he chased you for another kiss, “Congratulations Targaryen, you’re now going to the championship game.”
He smiled stupidly, from where he was looking at you, you looked like a bright star, your hair was held back by a headband that matched the color of his jersey. Your eyes covered in shiny glitter that he helped put on before the game because according to him, he wanted to try to put some on you. You were beautiful, and all his.
He leaned up to kiss you deeply, feeling your fingers dig deep into the slightly wet curls of his. The world vanished then, and Jacaerys wanted you more than ever, but it was not a place where he wanted to devour you.
You pulled away, he groaned again in annoyance, “Hold on tiger. You stink. And your mother and brothers are waiting to celebrate your win.”
He opened his eyes to see you with a teasing face, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, you had a cunning smile. He did not want to question it yet so he placed you back onto the floor, without saying a word he took your hand interlacing it with his, both of you meeting his overly excited family that covered him in confetti. He thought life couldn’t get any more better than this.
His bed bounced as pushed his glasses upward, stopping them from slipping off his nose. He knew you were with him, but he paid you no mind as he mumbled the words from the slides to himself.
You leaned your head onto his shoulder, watching him study the same presentation over and over. You sat beside him, quietly biting onto your cinnamon roll that Rhaenyra begged you to take to Jace as well since she knew he was bound to skip dinner.
“Jace.”
“Hm,” he nodded his head slightly, letting you know he was listening to you. He truly was not though, he had a pen between his teeth biting on the top cap. You sighed.
“Jace.”
“Mm,” again he responded nonchalantly.
You rolled your eyes having enough. You took the laptop from him, shutting it close as you tossed it lightly onto his bedside table. You watched him widened his eyes, his arms reached to fight you but you beat him as you pushed him down onto the bed, sitting right on top.
His glasses moved upward, touching his forehead just a bit. You chuckled as he groaned in annoyance nonetheless his hands moved to hold your waist.
“Y/n… I need to study… you know I have to get good scores on the finals to keep my spot as top student.”
You smiled softly, your hands trailing down his chest to the toned body of his. His eyes fluttered, he enjoyed you touching him, he squirmed under you feeling his erection grow. He was shy to admit that even the slightest things you would do made him excited.
“You studied enough. You and I both know you’ll pass. Just how we also know, you will win the game,” Your fingers reached up to his face, pulling his glasses back to its original spot, you had always loved him with glasses. He huffed softly, his eyes moving upwards to try and avoid your strong gaze that had him digging his fingers softly into your waist.
“You’re only human jace, give yourself breaks hm?”
“I hate when you’re right,” he mumbled.
You laughed, tapping his nose lightly. His eyes moved back to your face, you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his nose you felt him breathe in deeply. He moved his head to reach your lips where he captured your warm lips with his.
You sighed into his mouth, enjoying the way his tongue licked your bottom lip. Your lips parted giving him access to taste you, he moaned when he got a taste of the sweetness from the bun you ate.
With his teeth, he pulled your bottom lip, sucking it lightly, you let him grinding your hip against his hardening erection hidden under the sweatpants you wanted to get rid of.
You rubbed harder, your panties now soaked from the need of wanting him. He let go of your lips as he let out a whimper. You sat on top still rubbing, twisting your hips in small circles to entice him. With half lidded eyes and small drool on the corner of his lips you wanted him so much more than before.
“Shh. I’ve got you,” you whispered, you ran your tongue down his neck finding a spot only you knew ruined him.
Right above his ear, in between his collarbone you placed a kiss and then you sucked hard, enjoying the small whimpers he let out. His hands working fast but clumsily pulling and tugging the straps of your sundress. He needed you, now.
He swallowed, “Please my love. Off,” he tugged the straps hard.
You heard a tear of fabric between your soft kisses that you left on his neck, you breathed in a laugh. You pushed him hard onto the bed, he grunted, you leaned back on your feet enjoying the flush on his cheeks, the curls surrounding him making him look angelic.
The sun was barely going down, and with the little sunlight still left, it touched Jace’s skin, his bright brown eyes covered by his slight fogged glasses from the amount of heavy breathing he was doing.
“Y/n… please…” he whispered, licking his lips watching you slowly tug down the straps, pulling down your bra as well. You watched him gasp slightly, taking in the view of the delicacy of your skin.
“Seven hells… how did I get so lucky?”
You hummed, getting rid of your dress completely, only sitting on top of him in your lace panties. He watched you hungrily, ready to bounce on you but held back, he wanted to take his time with you. Kiss all the little freckles on your body, find new spots that made you whisper his name as in a prayer.
He wanted to find all the new things that made your body quiver, flourish in his hands, his mouth. His mouth suddenly felt dry, he wanted to taste you so bad.
You smiled wickedly, your hand reached forward, grabbing his index cards he had also written to study. You looked through them fast before you tossed them somewhere on the floor.
Leaning forward, you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts, sighing blissfully when out of habit his thumbs flicked your now perked buds.
“Every right answer you give me, you’ll be allowed to touch me,” you whispered, smiling even wider when you felt him twitch underneath you.
Jacaerys was competitive, and he wanted to have you so badly but he also wanted to prove to you he was smart. He thought this was better than any study group he ever had, his fingers twitched against your breasts, wanting them deep in your cunt just to watch you bend in an angelic position, all because of him.
For once, he was greedy, he wanted to watch you have power over him. He licked his lips again, anticipating every moment that will occur. He thanked the old gods and new for gifting him you.
“First question,” you sat with his hands still on your breasts, enjoying the lust on your boyfriend’s eyes, the way sweat started to form on his forehead, the twitch of his eyebrow as he tried to read you, to the way his lips parted, his breaths coming out in sharp huffs.
“Name all the kings we had, from first king to now.”
Jacaerys struggled, he regretted now the position he was in, he couldn’t focus having you bare only in silk panties, your skin glowing, hair loose and curled at the tips. He just wanted to make love to you. He held his breath, his hands shaking, noticing, you smirked.
“Uh.. Um…” he cleared his throat, his eyebrows slightly scrunched together as he tried to think, “Aegon, the conqueror,” you hummed.
You let his hand go down the middle of your breast, to your stomach, hearing his breath hitched you stopped.
“I uh… Aenys,” he stuttered, finding it hard to stay still.
Again, you moved his hand to your navel, letting go of his hand as you waited for the rest of the answer to come out of your struggling boyfriend who remained obedient.
“Maegor, Jaehaerys, Viserys…” his voice straining.
You smiled, “Good job my love. See? The answers are flowing out of you.” You stood up then, he sat up quickly, his body in heat running with adrenaline from wanting you. Your fingers pulled the bands of your panties to slide them off your legs. Jacaerys’ mouth fell slack.
You tapped your finger to your chin as in thought, you moved as you spoke to sit on his lap, your legs spread on either side of his own. “Ah.. why is the reason that dragons are the symbol of the Targaryen family?”
Jacaerys tried, he truly did want to show off his intelligence but he couldn’t concentrate anymore. How could he concentrate when he had you on his lap, nude, your curls falling onto your shoulders giving you a glow so beautiful he was breathless.
“Seven hells y/n, I can’t do this,” he moved so quick you were startled that you ended up bumping your head onto his headboard. His eyes panicked, the lust from his eyes softening, “Baby, baby i am so sorry!”
You laughed loudly, taking his face into your hands where you pulled him to give him a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, his hands pulling your hands above your head, interlocking it with his.
“You didn’t answer the question Jacaerys,” you muttered into his lips. He moaned in annoyance over the fact you kept pulling away from him when all he wanted was to shower you with love.
“No offense, but you talk a lot my love, I just want you,” Jace fluttered his eyes, looking down on you his light brown eyes shadowed with a mischievous glint that had you swallow.
“Yeah?”
He nodded, his glasses sliding down more, you pushed them up again, his curls were a mess and damn… he looked ethereal. He was all yours, the pride in your chest swelled as as the love you felt for him did too.
You both smiled at each other before he kissed you again, his lips grazing your cheeks, eyebrows, forehead, everywhere he could touch, you giggled. Jacaerys felt like he could fly, the need to feel you, to connect with you felt heavy on his head.
He took a moment to observe the environment, he was quick, in a moment he heard everything, the laughter of his younger brothers, the sound of his mother talking over the phone. His cheeks blossoming crimson, the idea of having you while his family were so close bought an excitement to him.
He nibbled on your neck before whispering, “We have to keep quiet, mom…” he paused, feeling embarrassed, “anyone can hear us if we’re loud.”
You smirked, feeling the heat boil, “then try not to make me scream out,”
Jacaerys pulled away his eyebrows furrowed as if you said something offensive, “Oh? If i don’t, then I am not deserving of you my angel.”
Everything happened so fast, Jacaerys felt like he only blinked for a second, one second he was tasting you, leaving small marks on your neck then he was under you again, his chest bare, his boxers suddenly feeling hot.
You sat on top again, licking your lips admiring the work you made, a wet kiss on his chest turning red. Jacaerys felt sweat drip from his forehead, he needed to have you, now. But, he knew the reward would soon calm if he was patient - though he did not want to wait.
“Tell me my love, why are dragons the symbol of your family? If they are myth, why is it symbolic?”
Jacaerys rolled his eyes as his head tilted back, “Are you… Are you serious?” he whined, he thought he escaped this.
You tighten your lips together to hold back from laughing, “Oh i am serious babe. Now answer, or else.. I’ll go downstairs and play with Joff, i’ll ignore you all day.”
Jacaerys for the sake of his bulge feeling like it was ready to explode, tried.
He closed his eyes, scanning memories of the information he studied, “It was said that Targaryens are closer to the gods due to their faith in old traditions. Dragons are a symbol of power but also peace. Our family-“ suddenly he hissed, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Your teeth pulled the band of his boxers down, as your hand’s massaged the muscular thighs of his, you paused when you heard nothing but hard breathing, “I didn’t tell you to stop Jacaerys.”
He whimpered, “Dear gods…” he cleared his throat, “Our family symbol being dragons is to remind us of our history, to remind us why helping our people is also building a foundation for a better future, that is why our law firm is uh-“ he moaned when he felt your lips kissing up his toned chest.
“Our law firm is the most popular, and is one of the first establishments holding a strong position in justice.”
You stopped, Jacaerys was breathing hard as if he had ran through a marathon, “You really need to stop overthinking you won’t pass your exams, you are smart.”
Pressing a slight kiss on his lips, you sat up again, “Good job baby,” you moved his shaky hand to your body again, however Jacaerys had other plans, he sat up meeting you face to face.
“You are the world’s best person to ever grace us, I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered all the while his fingers grazed the apple of your cheeks, you couldn’t avoid the amount of love his eyes held you just needed him. The sexual tension between you was too strong to ignore.
“Jace..”
He pushed your hair back, his eyes mapping out the beauty marks on your face. You were so beautiful, he would never once stop repeating it, “I love you, with every ounce of my heart,” and that was when your heart flew out of your chest.
He laid you onto his bed, both of you shaking with need to have each other. His lips traced every bump, every inch of your body until he reached the valley of your breasts. The metal of his glasses making your skin crawl with goosebumps.
“All mine,” he whispered. His fingers traced the perky buds of your breasts before he took one in his mouth, moaning as if he was having the best dessert - in a way he was. Your body lifted from the bed, mind clouded with him only.
“Jace,” you pleaded now, needing him to stop his slow pace, you just needed him inside you. You felt him shudder at the way you said his name.
He pulled back, your eyes shaking in need but Jace was worse, his eyes filled with need, hidden behind those glasses of his he was overwhelmed with the love he had for you.
You felt his bulge nudge your core causing you to tilt your head back, moaning softly, you heard the gasping of your boyfriend who struggled what to do next. He never wanted to rush into things but he needed you, he wanted to explore more of you but he just needed to be inside, to carefully love you and show you.
You made the decision to guide him, you and Jacaerys were not always active, majority of your relationship was very innocent and you didn’t complain, simply being in the arms of your boyfriend was enough. Jacaerys only needed you close to feel the love you felt for him as he did you.
He never disrespected you, always showed you respect and love in small and big ways. His family adored you, with his mom already calling you her daughter she never had. Daemon adored your stubbornness, mentioning how you reminded him of his younger days. To Jace, that was enough.
So when you guided him inside of you, feeling the tip of his erection inside you, both of you gasped, holding each other in desperate need of love. He shook in your arms as your legs wrapped around his waist, he didn’t move feeling too overwhelmed from your heat.
“t’s okay,” you whispered, your heart full, and as you locked eyes with the one man who you swore your life to, he pushed all the way in, the tears seeping from your eyes.
He held you in his arms tightly, whimpering as you tugged the wet curls of his, pulling out and pushing in with such care that had you breathing out choked sobs from the love you felt. He only prepped small kisses, whispering the love he held for you.
“I love you, I love you,” he whispered into your mouth, his hands wiping the tears from your cheeks, feeling his own pool. Your fingers marked half moons onto his shoulde blades, marking beautiful trails of your love as he pushed into you harder, faster.
You removed his glasses then, finally coming to face his eyes that were scrunched together in concentration and if it was another occasion you would’ve laughed but you kissed his face holding onto him as your noses bumped into each other clumsily.
“You feel so g-good,” he muttered, his hand holding onto your right hand, you said nothing as you took him in, feeling the little bubble in your tummy ready to release.
“J-Jace,” you stuttered, squealing when he finally hit that one spot inside you, “OH! Don’t stop… donnn-t stop.”
He knew you were close, you held onto his hair tighter, your eyes rolled onto the back of your head as you bent your neck all the way back displaying your entire neck to him. He pushed harder, making it a mission to have you see stars, he watched you carefully, hearing how you muttered his name like a prayer.
He was so close, but he held back, his cheeks were warm, as he felt the need to come inside you with just watching you wither in his embrace. All that was heard was the bed squeaking, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall, and as much as he wanted to keep it quiet, he couldn’t. He just needed you.
“My pretty angel, all mine,” he whispered again, he had let go of your hand reaching down on your sensitive bud where he rubbed in circles, you moaned loudly and he reacted so fast he covered your mouth with his as he swallowed your slight screams.
He felt the stutter of your hips and the shocks that your body was going through, and suddenly he felt the tightness of your warmth wrapping him hard that his chest felt on fire.
He closed his eyes allowing the pleasure to sweep him out of the world, with one last push he allowed to come inside you hearing you sigh in bliss, your body still shaking, the tears dry on your cheeks.
You held Jace against you, brushing his hair back, hearing him try to level his breathing back to normal. You did not want him to pull out of you but you needed to pee.
He kissed your breasts before he slowly pulled out, both of you shuddering, he then kissed you deeply. He said nothing, but neither did you, both of you basking in the love.
You watched as he pulled you into his arms, carrying you into his bathroom, he looked beautiful. You sat in the toilet as he prepared a bath, and took the moment when he went to get you clothes to pee.
When he came back he had a hoodie of his and a pair of boxers for you to wear, you childishly made grabby hands, he chuckled before he pulled you to the bath tub with him.
The silence was comfortable, until a thought hit you, “Jace?”
You leaned your head back to look at him, he was smiling with his eyes closed, “Yeah?”
“I think.. I saw Luke’s feet at some point by the door,”
Jace snapped his eyes open in a panic, one look at you, who looked at him with your own set of eyes that held panic, he laughed loudly, you joined him.
Lucerys did in fact stopped by his brother’s door, he only wanted to ask if you wanted to play mario’s kart, but that flew out the window when he heard his brother’s moans. So he sat in the family room with a traumatized look on his face thinking he wished dragons were real so he can ask to get eaten instead.
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fairene · 3 months
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beneath the moonlight / ln4
vacay lando norris x maxf!littlesister
no use of y/n, as always.
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prompt ⋯ ohhh hey ! wanted to stop by to say i love ur fic and wanted to request insatiable lando with max f’s sister like a forbidden summer fling with all their friends and no one’s supposed to know about their secret relationship ( especially max ) — @444mercss
a/n ⋯ this was much longer than i intended, but the words just kept flowing out of me. thank you to all those who beta read my post and helped with grammar!!! ( @jamminvroomvroom , @theonottsbxtch ) you all helped so much. and thank you to mercs for requesting this. i didn't know i'd enjoy it as much as i did, but it definitely was for 20k words. i'll probably take a week ( or maybe not ) off from writing just to give myself a cool down period, but still here to answer any asks. feel free to pop in. hope you all enjoy this, and remember, readers looks are up for interpretation, along with the outfits. colors of coloring are mention only briefly!
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drinking, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, oral(m+f)!receiving, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, feral lando. best friends little sister, brothers best friend dynamic, mutual pining, 'games', horny thoughts. much, much more. but even, possession, jealousy. if i forgot any warnings, feel free to let me know.
wc ⋯ 20.1k (WHEWWW WEEE... edited by @jamminvroomvroom, @theonottsbxtch)
the summertime was one of your favorites. you and all of the rest of your girlfriend’s would spend each and every day together without question. but as time went on, they got their own lives. partners, engagements, jobs. not to say that you weren’t an accomplished young lady, but it was starting to show that you were hung up on a life that was starting to fade.
your brother on the other hand, was keen on keeping you in this life. in tip top shape on your toes, he’d always challenge you in a multitude of ways. or annoy you to no end. typically it was the latter. 
but he had invited you this summer on vacation with his friends. you knew them all relatively well, texted here and there, but you never imagined to be trailing along on a villa getaway sponsored by the quadrant house, mainly the famous lando norris himself. 
you would be shy to admit it, but you had a bit of a soft spot for lando. him and his cheeky smile. the moles that donned his face. his starlit eyes that radiated an emerald hue beneath the sunlight. it was intangible the way that you could pick apart the details about his nuanced beauty, but it was a secret for you to keep.  a secret that no one, especially your brother, could ever find out about.
but that’s all that it was, wasn’t it?
a dream. a pathetic fantasy. you wouldn’t ever gain the courage to talk to him, make a move, despite how often him and max talk about going on dates with girls. talking about his love life, or the rather drab there of. he fucked around a lot, max knew that, and would consistently warn you to never get wrapped up in the same lifestyle as the british driver. you’d hold up your hands in defense, shrieking a ‘don’t worry about me,’ though you wish you gave him a reason to.
why did you feel undeserving of lando– because he was a formula one driver? attractive? charming? were you afraid that you were going to be friendzoned–? oh god, that would be the fucking worst, wouldn’t it? you could never imagine the hangouts being the same. so you’d bite your tongue until it bled, even when your body yearned for the heat of his own. 
the villa that you would be staying at was on lake como in italy. it was a beautiful venue, a place that you’d been dreaming of visiting. max knew this, hence why he’d probably sniped you an invite. but it wasn’t like no one wanted you there. everyone did. that was the problem. you were so incredibly loved by all of max’s friends, that he kept them at arm’s length. no one would ever hurt his little sister. not while he was still breathing. 
“wow,” you breathed, stepping out of the uber from the airport. the house before you was a stunning makeup of eccentric architecture that dated decades before your own birth. it was a grand building with tall, marble columns. thoroughly decorated landscaping, and even had running fountains in the front. you were so lost in your awe that you didn’t see the huge pair of mahogany doors swing open. 
“max,” you turned your head towards your brother who was grabbing your bags from the trunk. you shifted to the source of the voice, finding the british driver standing barefoot with a beach flannel and short-inseam khaki shorts low around his waist. you gulped before looking anywhere else but him. 
“lando!” max approached him, arm outstretched for a shake. lando met him half way down the marbled steps, taking his sunglasses off from the top of his head. 
“how was the flight, mate? good?” max nodded for the both of you whilst you fiddled with the accessories around your hands. you didn’t ever know what to say to lando. you found yourself unbelievably speechless in his presence. 
“not too bad, ‘specially if this is what you’ve got.” lando chuckled at your brother’s words, and then his eyes finally landed on you. you and your comfortable outfit from the plane ride over. you and your pulled back hair, respectfully messy, and the jewelry that adorned your fingers. his eyes caught over the bling, and how you anxiously picked away at the skin. 
“never thought she’d grace our presence,” lando said jokingly, which had your head snapping upright. you flushed, sucking your bottom lip with your teeth. 
max rolled his eyes, avoidant of the topic of you in general. “whatever, mate, she’s here now, in’she?” what? what was that supposed to mean? was your presence requested? you suddenly felt wanted above all things. 
“she certainly is.” lando approached you with his tongue tucked behind his bottom lip, hasty in his steps. you stood up straighter with a light smile on your face, eyes twinkling away from his own. you couldn’t keep eye contact with him. “c’mon, love, i’ll take your bags.” 
“are you sure? i can take–”
the bags were grabbed from your hands. you felt the palm of his own for just a moment— the warm flesh, humming low against his own. you felt like he spoke to you through your blood, but you let it go. lando norris wasn’t giving you special attention, that’s for sure. 
you promised yourself that much. this whimsical, airy crush of yours needed to be vetted on the spot. he was your brother’s best friend, older than you, and certainly didn’t have time for a girl who wasn’t a celebrity. 
right?
he took your bags through the exquisite villa. the interior was even more luxurious than you could ever imagine– floor to ceiling windows, candlelit ceiling lights, flora decorating each wall that you turned to. it smelled delectable, too, wafting germanium and coconut oil. the smile on your face couldn’t be ignored, as you shimmered brighter than the summer sun. 
“you like it, then?” came lando’s voice. your head dropped, glancing at him from where he stood, waiting for you to join him on the steps. had he been watching your face? 
“you’re joking.” you assured, hands clasped together. “it’s beautiful.” 
lando smiled then, too, letting his lower lip snatch between his top teeth. he tried hard to conceal his happiness, but you felt like you could feel it amongst the air. you felt warm all of a sudden and cleared your throat, urging him forward up the spiraling staircase. 
you walked in silence with him down the long corridors. you would pause before each door briefly, wondering if he was going to open it, but he didn’t. it wasn’t until you were reaching the ends of the hallway when he stopped, twisting the knob of the white wooden door. he stood aside, letting you in first. 
the room you’d be staying in for the next few weeks was more than you could ever dream of. with its spacious interior, personal bathroom, and private balcony, you felt like the luckiest girl alive to be able to experience this. to live in this moment. to be here. in italy, of all places. 
lando interrupted your dreaming haze by sliding the bags in. you turned to face him in your unruly, exhausted glory, and he stared at you. a hand of his found the back of his neck. 
“so…dinner tonight at seven, pool day tomorrow, um…” he looked around, acting as if he could suddenly have the words appear into his head. “oh and, if you need anything, my room’s just next door.” 
he said it with haste, as if he were shy about the fact, and was already stepping out the door. 
“wait,” you said, stepping forward. lando hung back, gripping onto the door frame, swinging his head back into the room. “thank you.” 
the words seemed to hit him harder than you thought that it would. he blushed a light red, dimming his tanned face, and cleared his throat before nodding. “of course.” he said with out hesitance, making it clear that he would do this for anyone. “‘m glad you’re here.” 
and then he was gone. 
you stared at the shut door in stunned silence. did you really hear him correctly? 
you didn’t let your thoughts linger too long, but you couldn’t help but let it. the curly-haired brunette stayed in your mind whilst you settled in and unpacked. all ounce of his shy, gaunt nature. 
by the evening you were more than settled and relaxed. you’d taken a small nap to rejuvenate your energy, and just in the nick of time for dinner. you got ready amply, sliding a comfortable dress over the surface of your body. the straps were thin and fell loose upon your collarbones. you’d pair an elegant pair of low rise heels on your feet, pointy-toed, that matched the color of your dress.
you stared at your reflection in the mirror, the dim yellow lighting illuminating the corners of your face that you so frequently forgot to appreciate. it was in the hours of the night that you could appreciate yourself, unopposed to the gawking looks of strangers. 
there was a soft knock on your door at 6:57. you turned, dress swaying from your movements, and cracked it open. 
lando stood there on the other side. him and his dark shirt and khaki pants. he wore a pair of leather black loafers that matched his shirt. he smelled good, too, a masculine tint of sauvage. 
no words were spoken between the two of you. you simply stared at one another, lost in each other’s features. you resisted the urge to trace the moles on his face with a finger, whilst he fought himself to not reach out and run his hands along the fabric of your dress. 
his eyes softened when you met his, cheeks filled with a simple kind of joy. the two of you were done ogling at one another, still foreign in each other’s presence. 
“ready?” he asked. you nodded, grabbing a matching handbag from the countertop and slung it over your arm. you shut the door to your room behind you and walked a few paces behind lando. you weren’t close with him like that to walk side by side.
or so you thought.
he dragged his feet to slow his pace, coming parallel to your side. he held his breath for a moment, turning to look at the exposed skin from your dress. you caught his wandering eyes and looked up at him, wandering beneath his emerald depths. 
“what?” you asked tenderly, voice hitching in your throat. 
“nothing.” he turned his head to face back forward. “just haven’t seen you in a while, that’s all.” 
that was an understatement. you haven’t seen lando in almost three years. max had done a stellar job of wanting to keep you separated from his friends, though you weren’t upset about it. you had your own life, and that was perfectly enough for you. 
but you were a girl with a heart full of wanderlust, and often dreamed of what you could’ve had. there was a marksmith of delusion prodding the hidden parts of your brain, working tirelessly to pick apart the small interactions you’ve had with lando over the years. 
when you turned 18, he brought you to an exclusive club and showered you with gifts, alcohol, and even more. it was a night you wouldn’t forget, feeling lucky enough to manage a dance with him on the dance floor. his hands hovered above your body, the warmth seeping through your skin, rattling your bones. he even got so close to your face that you could feel his breath. smell the alcohol that reeked from him. 
you thought you were going to kiss. 
and so did he. 
but your brother separated the two of you, calling lando over for a group shot. you were left there, stranded on the dance floor, with the phantom touch of a man that you knew you could never have. it pained you to admit such a truth to yourself, but it didn’t loiter. you had a life to get back to, not indulge some silly, fanatical dream that kept you up late at night as a teenager. lando norris was the fantasy, never to become a reality. 
though, every time in presence, you’d manage to falter. set those delusions free the second he’d act kindly to you; gentle, tender tenacity that you believed would be special to you. max’s little sister. that’s all you were, though, weren’t you? 
“you’ve been well, haven’t you?” you asked him with a hum, holding your bag with both hands in front of you. the leather piece bucked against your abdomen. lando watched, peering to see if he could hold it for you. 
“‘course. living my dream, aren’t i?” you’d made it to the end of the hallway. the top of the staircase. 
“it’s not a dream.” you said with a softer intonation. he looked back towards you with a raised brow. “it’s reality now, i’d reckon.” 
he smiled. 
the two of you made it down the steps. you lingered in the grand foyer, beneath the candlelit chandelier. it was still light outside, but the sun was beginning to set. it had created a pink and blue hue over the water’s edge. 
but you weren’t looking at the water’s edge. 
you were looking at lando. your brother’s best friend. he had his hands in his pockets, facing the open living room, rocking back and forth on his heels. you cut your way to his line of sight staring upward at him. he looked down at you, wondering what you were searching for.
you had considered not doing what you were about to do. you really did!
but your hand was already outstretched, the tips of your fingers grazing over the grown facial hair on his chin. he didn’t jolt from the action and merely stared into your eyes, pupils blown wide from the warmth of your touch. 
“i like it,” you commented before taking your hand away, finding yourself into much deep trouble if max had seen the two of you. 
“yeah?” lando asked, suddenly much closer to you. 
“makes you look older and manly.” you rolled your eyes. 
“what? i wasn’t manly before?” 
your hand rolled over your mouth to withhold a laugh. “i’ve seen you weep at the sight of fish.” 
lando’s face lit up and his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek. “doesn’t make me any less of a man.” he crossed his arms. 
“really?” 
“just enthusiastic. don’t see a problem with having a bit of character.” you didn’t argue with him further when you saw your brother and other group friends join one another in the living room. they made their way closer to the two of you.
you took a step back from lando. he couldn’t take his eyes off the action, his face falling instinctively. it’s nothing. his expressions mean nothing. they’re not for you. 
“c’mon, i’m starvin’.” max called, slapping lando on the back. sure enough, you were walking out the door behind your brother, everyone trailing in an orderly manner. 
you heard lando call your name from in front of max. you hummed in response. “you’ll ride with me, yeah?” you blushed. how could you not? max turned his head over his shoulder, his voice saying nothing, but his eyes telling all. he knows how you felt about lando when you were younger. 
he knows, he knows, he knows. but surely, surely you’ve gotten over that little crush of yours. and lando, too, hadn’t harbored any feelings towards you either? surely, surely he couldn’t. you were his little sister. and max knew how lando treated girls as of late. 
it left a sour taste in his mouth, but he said nothing when you nodded, brushing past him. 
lando opened the door for you. his mclaren was a two seater, comfortable, and roared to life when lando turned over the engine. you couldn’t help but laugh feeling the seat vibrate beneath your thighs. it was a feeling of exhilaration that you hadn’t felt in a long time, but a feeling that came perpetually with lando’s presence. being with him made you feel alive, more alive than the years you’d walked this earth. 
your excitement had done things to him as well. his eyes were glued to how you reacted, enthralled by your visceral enthusiasm to being in such a tangible sports car. your fingertips grazed across the leather interior of the door handle. 
“gonna jump out on me?” 
you shifted in the leather seat, crossing your legs over one another. there was a heat building inside of you, deep in your core. 
“not if you don’t give me a reason to.”
he chuckled at that. “i’ll try.” 
you smiled to yourself, looking down at your fiddling hands. lando stepped on the gas and pulled out of the villa’s extraneously long driveway, leading the pack of friends behind him. 
“you look fit.” came his voice, nervous, beneath his breath. your eyes caught his side profile, all rough edges of it. “beautiful, but your brother’d have me by the balls if he heard me say that.” 
your breaths were heavy in your chest. “then don’t let him.” 
lando’s head whipped to meet your eyes, hand white-knuckling the steering wheel. you weren’t even sure what you were implying with your words, but he hoped that he wasn’t misinterpreting them. god forbid he didn’t understand. you didn’t brush him off like you did as a child, didn’t stumble away bashfully. now, in your grown state, you faced him head on. you challenged him, just as he suspected you would. 
“between us, then?” 
you nodded, tongue coming to wet your bottom lip. you made a motion of a lock and key against them, throwing the key out the window. he watched, but was drawn back to the road. that was one of the fastest car rides you’ve ever been in with that roaring engine, feeling like you had stepped into the biggest unknown of your very existence. 
the restaurant that lando had made reservations for was absolutely beautiful. you couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve been awed by the sites you’ve seen, but you couldn’t help yourself. you were simply one of the luckiest girls with even richer friends. 
lando opened the car door for you, sprinting to the other side. you found yourself laughing at the action, finding his urgency cute. 
you stepped out of the car and you immediately found your brother, his stance idle before he marched over to you. 
“he say anything to you?” 
you flushed. between us, then?
“no. what would he say?” 
max didn’t elaborate and simply settled for a huff from his nose. lando had been handing off his car to the valet man when he met up with the two of you. your other friends were in tow, eight of you in total, and made it inside the restaurant with ease.
you didn’t even think about what the seating arrangement would be. not until lando pulled out a chair for you, beside him, and you had no other choice but to settle in. not like you were complaining though. 
but max was going to. you could see the look on his face when he sat opposite to you, flashing you a pair of warning eyes. but you didn’t know what warranted them– you didn’t even say anything to lando, more or less. 
you furrowed your brows at him, feeling far too old for these insolent glances, and picked up the menu. lando sat next to you, mirroring your actions. you placed the napkin on your lap, a polite etiquette you’ve always precluded dinners with. 
“ah– look,” you leaned into lando’s space, the heat from his body, the cologne from his shirt, sifting through your nose. it was tempting. “for you.” 
your finger pointed to the blackened cod that they had on the menu. lando met you half way, looming over your shoulder at what you were pointing at. as soon as he read it, he scoffed. “fuck off.” you couldn’t help but giggle, attempting to stifle the sound the best you could.
“don’t do that,” lando’s voice came firm, but soft against your ears. he was talking just loud enough for the two of you to be able to hear. you glanced quickly at max, who was lost in conversation with his buddies. 
“what?” 
“hide your laugh.” you guessed you didn’t realize how often you muffled yourself. your hand lowered to your lap. “you used to do it when you were a teenager, too.” he pointed. you thought for a moment, realizing that he was right. “never understood why. especially since it’s so pretty.”
you froze, staring up at him with weary eyes. he looked confused at your expression. your hand came to slap his bicep. “stop it.” but you were teasing him. he saw right through your tone. 
“don’t let him, ‘s what you said, right?” 
you swallowed. nodded your head. 
his mouth dipped to your ear. his breath hot, just like your cheeks. “he won’t hear a thing then, will he?” lando’s nose brushed against your scalp, and you thought for a moment, dreamed, that he would plant a kiss upon your head. but his lips simply hovered, breaths warming your strands of hair. 
but you turned your head to meet his eyes, shaking his contact off. he noticed. tensed. “but he can see, you imbecile.” 
that had lando laughing. your face broke with a smile, unable to resist his intoxicating gestures. he simply shrugged, letting you win this one, and his arm came to sling over the back of your chair. his fingertips grazed the strands of your dress, dipping down to your bare shoulders. your posture straightened against the chair, legs crossing over one another beneath the table. he watched you shift, his teeth catching his bottom lip to retain his smile. 
the waiter came to take your orders. you ordered your preferred choice and drink, lando following suit. when the table received their drinks, you lifted your glasses for a collective ‘cheers’. 
when the main course was finished, you were handed the dessert menus. short a couple, you had to share with the man next to you. you nudged lando’s shoulder with your own and like a dog to a whistle, he was over your shoulder once more, his stubble barely pinching your skin. the thought burst through your head: what would it feel like on your neck? on your thighs, your cunt? you blushed again for what felt like an infinitesimal number, but turned your attention back to the menu. 
you pointed at the option that you thought was best. lando hummed, his eyes tracing over the features of your face. you glanced at him. “what?” you asked. 
he simply huffed a short laugh and nodded his head at your choice. 
it arrived sooner than later and the two of you split the sweet dessert. your brother was still lost in his own conversations, leaving you to your ministrations with lando. whatever they may be, you’d want them all. 
when you had your fill and so did he, you couldn’t help but look at him. he turned, and you laughed quietly between the two of you. he raised a brow. 
“you’ve got–” you pointed to his lip, but you figured your words were fruitless. you licked at your thumb and raised it to his mouth, cleaning him. his eyes darkened, becoming hooded with the shadows of lust. you even dared to bring your thumb back to your mouth, popping the remnants across your lips with a ‘pop’. lando never thought his dick could be so hard. 
“there,” you breathed. “all clean.” 
there was a brief silence. one second. two. “you’ve always been trouble, haven’t you?” 
your own eyes were hooded. “maybe.” you teased, cleaning your fingers with the napkin. “guess you have to find out?” 
lando’s hand gripped tighter on the back of your chair. 
“guess so.”
the drive back was tense. tense with your excitement. on the way out, lando and you lingered at the back of the pack. his hand was on your lower back, warm and electric, reminding you that you had stepped into the deep end with him. 
you still couldn’t believe what had happened. 
lando was speeding down the freeway, weaving his way in and out of cars, a dangerous task that you only felt comfortable with him performing. you’d lose your mind if anyone else was the driver, but he was the professional here, wasn’t he? 
you were even so bold to roll the window down and stick your hand out, feeling the harsh slipstreams beneath your nailbeds. you relaxed in the seat, head lolling against the cushion, hair flying into the wind. lando turned his head to look at you, his elbow leaning on the interior beneath the windowsill, and almost swerved into oncoming traffic. you were a picturesque beauty, lounging freely in his passenger seat, legs crossed, free. 
you were at peace for the time being, and it was the only way he’d wish to see you. but he could think of other things. 
he pulled into the house with ease. it was well lit amongst the long, windy driveway, and he made sure to let you out first. you two were the last to arrive at the house this time, taking your sweet time. you were in no rush to race back to your room, and neither was he. 
it was well past 10pm. when you reached the foyer, max was waiting for you.
“bright and early tomorrow?” he asked. 
“bright and early.” you confirmed. he pulled you in for a swift hug, rustling the top of your head with that familial brother love that you adored him for. 
he patted lando on the back briefly, before narrowing his eyes at him. you didn’t understand what was happening between the two of them, bro code, but lando seemed to understand well enough. max and his buddies traipsed up the steps, and you felt at ease when you heard their doors shut. 
it was just you and lando, now, idling in the foyer. 
you said nothing but began to walk, trailing forward through the grandeur villa. you were ample with your pace and heard him moving behind you. with a push of your hand, you opened the door to the grand balcony, leaving it ajar for lando to sneak out from. 
he did. 
there was a patio set there, waiting, and you let your handbag drop onto the coffee table. you sauntered over to the cobblestone walls, the balustrade meeting post to post for about thirty feet. you leaned against the stone. it was cold against your bare back. 
lando seated himself in one of the chairs, his legs spreading wide. he watched you lean forward, then spin to face him. your back was illuminated by the halo of the moonlight, drenching you in a pale visage of beauty. 
“you wanna know something?” you asked. lando perked up, humming with curiosity. he was too busy admiring your figure, having to pull himself back from such tumultuous thoughts. “i had a crush on you when i was a kid.”
that stifled a laugh from the british driver. “you did not.” 
you shook your head. “sure did.” you didn’t know why you were telling him this all of a sudden, but it was weighing heavy on your mind. “max was pissed. knew i only came around when he told me you’d be there.” 
the pieces began melding together in lando’s mind. he had been such an idiot boy that he couldn’t see what a prized beauty you were. there was a trace of second hand guilt. a pattern of ‘what-ifs’ trifling through his mind. 
“‘was just a stupid girl. tried so hard for you to notice me.” your hands covered your face for a brief moment. 
“you always wore skirts,” he recalled, looking at his hands in his lap. he looked up at you, smirk building. “that why?” 
you were shameless when you nodded your head. 
“so embarrassing, i know–” 
“what about now?” he cut you off, clearly wanting to ask this question the moment it left your lips. 
“what do you mean?” your mouth went dry, your hands clasping at the balustrade as if you were going to faint. your heart pounded in your chest. 
“what do you feel for me now?” 
you couldn’t meet his eye. you looked anywhere else but him, in fact, and opted to over your shoulder to admire the view of the ocean beneath the starlight. the ocean wouldn’t judge you. it would wash away your problems, in fact, and not stare you down. 
there was a deep intake of breath that had your head settling from its dizzy state. you looked back to lando and he sat there, cocky, upright. but there was a genteel nature about him that didn’t have you as afraid as you thought you’d be. 
he raised his arm, outstretching his hand for you. 
you swallowed, pushing yourself off from the balustrade. you sauntered towards him, earnest in your steps, before letting your palm rest on his. 
he pulled you close, fingers wrapping against your wrist. he was warm to the touch and he could feel your erratic heartbeat in your veins. 
lando’s legs spread for you to settle between. you stood above him, looking down at his brunette curls, his stubble, his cheekbones. his own hands were experimental against the planes of your body, touching sweetly against your hips. 
“you didn’t answer me.” he repeated.
you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“some dreams just remain dreams.” 
he waited a beat. you felt his chest rise and fall. 
“do you want to dream forever?” 
no. no. you didn’t. you wanted your fantasies to become reality. being with him. being loved by him has always been what you wanted. 
you lowered yourself on his lap, straddling his waist. you felt his cock thrum beneath the guard of his pants. did he want you the same? 
his forehead collided with yours. his nose brushing against your bridge. you shook your head, closing your eyes. 
“wake me up,” you mewled quietly, voice deep within your throat. it was a desperate plea, one that you thought he may not understand until he caught the glint in your eye. the wanting. the years of pining from a distance. how he was so wrapped up in his boyhood that he couldn’t appreciate a woman at his side. “please.” 
he didn’t wait any longer to meet your lips with his own. 
you were cautious with your touches. your hands were on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. but your kiss was deep by his own volition, gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb, earning a groveling sound in your throat. 
his other hand was stroking your back, pushing you against him until your breasts were firmly against his chest. you gasped at the firm contact, him using it as an excuse to slip his tongue into your mouth. he explored every corner with an expertise you didn’t know was possible. no place went untouched by his saliva, marking a cavern of his own, and perhaps awakening a fantasy that had been dormant for years. 
he lied when he said he didn’t notice you. 
he lied. 
lando would always await your appearance when he went over to max’s house. he’d hear you skip down the steps in whatever mary-jane heel you wore for that day. max would groan when your head popped through the archway, waving at his friends, but your lashes fluttered when you settled on lando. 
‘course he fucking noticed. 
he thought of you a sweet girl, caring for her brother, with an exquisite taste in fashion. he’d remember the skirts you wore–  black ones, pleated ones, plaid ones– they were all committed to the vaults of his memory. he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. 
and he still did. while you were perched atop of his lap, huffing in nervous breaths, your hands anxiously skirting across the plane of his dress shirt. you shook atop of him as your lips moved coincided with one another. two bodies, melding together beneath the moonlight. 
your tongue swirled against his own, hips bucking against the bulge in his pants. your cunt tightened aimlessly, drenching his pants below. he could feel the patten of fabric become lathered in your slick, and it brought him back to earth.
“we can’t.” he breathed against your lips. his chest was beating up and down, unable to calm himself. though he attempted rejecting you, his hand tightened around the fabric of your dress. 
your nose brushed against his as you chuckled. “a bit late, isn’t it?” your teeth bit at your swollen, bottom lip. you could see his eyes flash downward at your action, his own tongue wetting his own. 
“your brother,” he began to shake his head, still clutching around the fabric of your dress. 
“he doesn’t…” you began to say, kissing the sides of his stubble. you were even so bold to take his free hand, guide it to your inner thighs, and let his fingertips caress the wet fabric covering your cunt. it was swollen, desperate for his touch. you’d been desperate for his touch. desperate for as long as you could remember. “have to know.” 
lando’s fingers curled upward to apply pressure right on your clit. he didn’t even have to search for it, and you shifted your hips, bucking them across his palm. “fuck, baby…” he groaned into your cheek, followed by a crass chuckle. “you always get this wet?” 
your head buried itself into the junction between his neck and shoulder, whining with embarrassment. “jus’ for you…” the words came quietly, but they rang loud in lando’s ears. he could feel the vibrations from your throat, your aching cunt. you were laid atop of him, dripping down your thighs. 
“yeah?” he breathed, finding his heart beating rapidly beneath the weight of your body. his fingers began a pattern of motions across your clothed clit—back and forth— and you mewled into his shirt. there was a patch of drool beneath your lips. “look at you, then, made a mess all over me…” 
your lips sucked on the skin of his neck, biting at his chest. attempting to shift closer to him, if it was possible, had your cunt aligned over his clothed cock. 
“‘n i’ve barely touched you.” 
lando wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to. this was his best friend’s little sister. the amount of lines he’s crossed. the friendship he’s had for years suddenly feeling vulnerable, out the door. but he can’t say he hasn’t thought about a moment like this. fantasized about it once or twice. 
“touch me,” you pleaded, tilting your head to look at him. your eyes were wide, glossy with your pleasure, whilst his darkened at your contact. “more, i need…” your hips grinded against his palm. “more.” 
“fuck,” he cursed beneath his breath. fuck his self control. fuck whatever this was going to do to his friendship. you are real, pining for him in his lap, begging you for his touch. anything from him, really, you would take. this moment felt like it was going to flutter away any moment, and you’d be waking up from a sick, yearning dream. 
the hand upon your back steadied you against his body, whilst the fingers of his other moved the fabric of your panties aside. here, with his sensitive fingers, he could feel the heat from your cunt. it washed over him like a wave, retracting, tightening when he flexed his middle finger. you were utterly drenched for him, the cool breeze of the night raising goosebumps along your skin. 
you shivered above him, watching how his hand worked beneath your dress. his hand against your back curled around the base of your neck, angling your eyes back up to his own. “eyes on me.” you listened, melted at his soft, demanding tone, and nodded your head. you shimmied frantically across the plane of his hand, but he tsked. “be patient.” 
you seemed to understand well enough. he would give you what you wanted, in time. you would be patient, holding back the whimpers deep within your throat. you were just about to implode on yourself when he finally inserted his middle finger into your folds, taunting you dangerously. you gasped, unable to keep yourself still as your back arched. your head fell back into his hand, lando’s thumb swirling around your bare neck. 
the straps from your dress fell loose with the motion and you could feel the breeze harden your already taut nipples. his eyes clinged downward at the sight before him, head bending forward to kiss your exposed chest. one of your hands came to clench around his wrist, the other to his neck, holding him fiercely to your body. 
your fingers were thrusted deep into the base of his neck, the fade of his hair. you tugged when his finger curled deliciously inside of you, his thumb– acting so expertly– applied gentile pressure to your clit, toiling with your impetuous lust. you felt exposed to him, putty in his hands, weightless against his body. 
the british driver’s lips were relentless on your skin. your chest was claimed by his tongue, swirling around the top of your breasts, edging you further to a spectacular orgasm. he sucked tight against your skin, but your head raised to meet your lips to his ears.
“no marks,” you requested, but you heard him growl against your chest. his hands flexed– his wrist clutched with your palm, his hand on the back of your neck– the contact with your neck had you breathless, clenching around his singular finger, and he took blatant notice. 
“a secret, yeah?” he confirmed, holding back his groveling tone. the words were bitter when they hit your ears. there was a layered amount of surplus emotions that guarded his heart, held him at arm's length, and he knew it would tear him apart. but now, he focused on you atop of him, and getting you to come. 
“mhmm…” you had to clamp your mouth shut from bursting with a wanton moan. it was too much– the way that he swirled his thumb, how his finger was just the perfect length to bottom out inside of you. your hips moved relentlessly, despite his grip around your neck, and you pushed down on his wrist when it started to become too much for you. 
but lando had other plans. he shook his head, let out a tsk between his lips, and let his ring finger slip into you with ease. you let out another moan, deeper than the rest, but he responded with a tug on your hair. 
with his lips still against your breasts, his motions froze. “quiet.” you hummed a disapproving sound. “want me to stop?” 
you shook your head. “no– no!” 
you could feel his teeth against your breasts, a cocky smile no doubt with how flustered you became at the thought of him stopping. 
“gotta be quiet, love–” and then his lips were back on you, sucking amply at your skin. his head lowered until he captured a nipple between his teeth, letting the ridges toy with your sensitive buds. your head lowered to the top of his as you breathed him in– his shampoo, his cologne– and it didn’t help with containing yourself. 
his pace against your cunt quickened. dual fingers sliding in and out of you with ease, thumb riding aggressively on your clit. you could feel the coil inside of you wringing with heat. 
lando’s lips found your other nipple, treating it with the same voraciousness that the other received. it was beginning to become too much for you. no man had ever had you this way– putty, liquid, melting– beneath his touch. you feared that you’d never be able to have an orgasm again. 
you became antsy in his hands. your grip on his wrist was shaking, your thighs desperately clenching around his waist. he took it as a sign that you were close, and the words fell easily from his lips. 
“gonna cum for me?” his chin rested on your chest, angling to look up at your sweating, flushed expression. your eyes fluttered shut as you nodded. his grip around your throat tightened against the columns. you’d never trusted a man so much to not hurt you. 
“come on, sweet girl, ‘ve got you.” he promised to you, “bet you’re so pretty when you cum.” 
you felt the skin of your lip break into a light gash beneath the weight of your teeth. you’d been so focused on keeping quiet, that you went ahead at your own expense. lando saw the way your eyes opened, and lurched to meet your lips with his own.
the iron upon his tongue didn’t frighten him. perhaps it turned him on in some manner. the lengths that you were willing to go to keep your sweet lips tightened. but as his own tongue swirled around the stinging cut of your lip, you moaned into him. he absorbed the sound, locking it into the expanse of his memories. you had such a sweet voice. he’d never hear something like it again. 
“come on, baby,” he urged you once more, speaking into your mouth. his breath was hot, spinning a knot of thread with your own. you felt him laugh at your oncoming orgasm, taking joy from eliciting such pleasure from you. “let me see how pretty you are.” 
it didn’t take much longer for your orgasm to reach you. you went taut, shaking in his hands, eyes rolling into your head. you swore you saw stars, and that was just from his fingers alone. it had you wondering what his cock felt like. 
your head fell limp against his shoulder, breathing heavily, clutching the fabric of his shirt. you didn’t want to let him go. his fingers laid idle inside of your tightened walls, not wanting to release the feeling either. not with his hand drenched, his pants soaked, and his forehead dripping with his own sweat. his cock had been painfully hard, a pool of his precum seeping through his pants, combining with your own. it was a beautiful, disastrous mess that he’d initiated between you two, but he felt no regret. 
you sniffled against his shoulder, breezing with the cold air, and let your arms wrap around his neck. you hid your face against his body, attempting to bury your embarrassment within him. you had just come on the balcony atop lando’s lap. what fucking world were you living in? you’ve had feelings for him for what felt like a century, and now a dream that you didn’t even know was possible of coming true, came at the palm of his hand. 
lando couldn’t believe it either. you were tucked against his body like a hand to a glove, a perfect fit, breathing heavily, shaking, against his palms. your cunt roared with a beating heat, swimming with the orgasm he had given you. proud wasn’t a word that could surmount to this feeling. 
and he said nothing when he fixed the straps of your dress, gauging a more presentable you. he tucked your hair behind your ears, fingertips loitering on the expanse of your cheek. you smiled into him, coming to raise your head to meet his eyes. 
his eyes fell to your blistering lip. the swollen buds that he sucked the blood out of. his forehead met yours, and neither of you said anything; just a soft breath and heartbeat between the two of you. 
within seconds he took his hand from your cunt, washed his fingers against his tongue, and let it fall to your bare back. you were stunned at the motion, but drool pooled in your mouth. you gawked, openly, just how hot the action was alone. 
lando stood with you in his arms. one hand on the back of your neck, the other cupping your thigh. your legs, whilst trembling, tightened around his waist for support as he took you through the quiet villa. the only lights were the candles that were still burning, but you didn’t see them, your head hiding in the crevice of his neck. he hummed quietly, a rhythm that had your eyes beginning to lull with sleep. 
you heard him open a door quietly and shuffle around the mess on the floor. your room, no doubt. you’d left a pile of clothes as a welcome for yourself when you were picking out your attire for the evening. it didn’t help him, either, by being surrounded by your scent. your perfume, you, it swirled around him, taunting him. dared him to fuck his best friend’s little sister. 
lando bent down to lay you into your bed. you fell against your will, hands still upright for him to fall in. but he just couldn’t let himself. 
he did, however, let his fingers trail across your bare thighs, your knees, your calves, ankles, until he was met with your heels. his hand lingered on the back of your ankle, angling one of your feet upright to slip a shoe off. his fingers moved to the other, placing the expensive pair on the ground. you stretched your hands above your head, falling deep within the pillowy, feathery embrace. 
you stared up at him. your hair messy, dress disheveled, eyes heavy with exhaustion. and he looked down at you, moving forward to let his fingers trail up your sternum, the perks of your breasts. the moment was so quiet. only your breaths and his own could be heard– and maybe the pounding of your heart. 
he looked beautiful looming above you, hovering with a protective, apologetic look. apologetic? what did he have to apologize for? except for a mind-blowing orgasm, that is. 
his hand froze against the place of your heart. palm flattening, he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. you grabbed his wrist, thumb sliding up and down against his veins. he swallowed. 
“don’t know if we should do this again.” he spoke quietly. 
your heart broke. you sat up straight in your bed, confusion written all across your features. you thought that this was something between the two of you. that he wanted you. and now what was happening? did you do something wrong? 
“why?” you asked, feeling tears well in your eyes. you couldn’t help it. the girl inside of you had come to the forefront, her dreams of being with lando being squashed beneath the weight of his words. 
he sighed deep, unable to meet your eyes. he was about to say something before you interrupted him.
“you don’t want me?” 
his head snapped in your direction, almost breaking clean off his spine with just how fast he went. he shook his head, hand coming to cup your cheek, but you shook his affections away. your hand dropped from his wrist, wanting to feel nothing of his heart. 
he spoke your name. twice. three times. you looked back toward him, tears hot in your eyes. “hey.” you focused on his voice. “you know that’s not true.” 
your brows furrowed. “do i?”
his expression dropped. 
he fell to his knees before the side of the bed. an action no man has ever done for you. you gaped visibly, watching as both his hands came to rest upon your knees. he leaned into you. stubble tickling your thighs. 
your name was sweet on his tongue. 
“what would your brother say–?” 
“fuck what he thinks.” you leaned down. 
lando’s head dropped between your thighs, taking a deep inhale of your skin. you shivered, letting your hand rest on the back of his neck. 
“we need t’give it time.” he said upon raising his head. he looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes. the moonlight shimmered through your windows, casting a vague gracefulness of illumination across his tanned skin. 
“how much?” 
lando wasn’t sure. his silence was an answer enough. you sighed, letting your body fall against the bed once more. he lifted himself to sit beside you, placing both hands at your hips to cage you in. 
“hey,” he said to gauge your attention back to him. “we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 
you wanted to believe him. but you weren’t sure that you could. lando leaned down to kiss your sternum against the fabric of your dress. 
“you still want me?” you asked, voice cracking with your emotions. 
“i’ve wanted you,” he said against your stomach, “since the day you came down in that white skirt.” 
you gasped, head tilting to look at him. that was one of the first times you met him– third, maybe– you remembered which one he was talking about. it was a skirt with little white bows, embellished with threads of ribbon and lace. 
“the one with the bows?” 
“that fuckin’ skirt…” he scoffed with a laugh. you were still floored, but managed to smile. you couldn’t believe his confession, finding it unbelievable. unbelievable that maybe, maybe you had a chance with him. the girl inside of you was squealing, but the woman didn’t quiver beneath him. 
there was a momentary silence between the two of you. but you shifted, moving to stand. lando watched you from his perch on your bed, hair ruffled and eyes red from his own wrought of emotions. you didn’t expect this from him. this sensibility. 
you began to strip with your back turned to him. he watched. silently. 
you stripped of your panties and threw them over your shoulder. lando caught them, still gawking at you. “keep them.” you spoke. “you ruined them.” 
that had him laughing. but he kept them, staring down at the lace material. you threw on a large shirt from your suitcase that reached your mid thigh. you finally spun around to meet his eye, but he didn’t dare move. 
“what?” you asked, his staring becoming more intense. 
he swallowed. shook his head.
“you better go.” you spoke for him as you approached your bed, narrowly dodging him when you threw yourself down. his eyes raked over you, speechless. “lando.” you reaffirmed, bringing him out of his haze. he let out a sigh and stood, hand coming to brace the back of his neck. 
he lingered before opening your door, glancing at the dress on the ground. and then he was gone, shutting your door behind him, before falling to his own bed. you were lucky to find sleep that night, and it came easy with your exhaustion. but anxiety thrummed through your mind, bustling with a pint of rejection. it was so sweet from his tongue, but it hurt all the same. 
lando laid in his bed before he showered. changed. laid in his bed with the thought of you. how did this happen? how could he forfeit a lifelong friendship? it was simple, really. you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever met, and he couldn’t ever let you go. he’s always watched you from a distance. liking your posts, viewing your instagram stories. he was obsessed with you in more ways than one, but that was a secret for him and him alone. 
yet, he couldn’t get max out of his mind. how he would react to him? to you? fuck, the thoughts were brewing a storm inside of his head. the damage had already been done, his heart already thrumming with the essence of you in its wake. you spread through the blood in his veins, latching onto his vitality like a parasite. though he welcomed the thought, the wonder of you overtaking his life. 
that was a thought that he could fall asleep to. and he did, snoring with a good guzzle that had you tossing and turning. 
the morning came and went. you were up early, as you promised max, but took time planning your wardrobe. you wore a bathing suit beneath your choice of clothing, but what was essential was the short, white, skirt that rode mid-rise on your waist. 
the shirt you wore was thin, sheer, a light beige. it had straps that came down to tie a bow between your breasts, and cropped enough to leave heaven to the imagination. for one man in particular, that was your goal.
‘i don’t know if we should do this again.’ 
fuck that. 
you skipped down the steps and were met with max awake bright and early. he had been cooking breakfast, a favorite of yours, and was just about finishing up before he glanced towards you. 
“morning!” came his preppy voice. he was wearing a thin white shirt and swim trunks, ready to take on the day to swim. 
“good morning.” you sat down at the lush kitchen island, max sliding a plate of food in front of you. you dug in immediately. 
“woah,” max commented, sitting down beside you with a cup of tea. “relax. thought we were going swimming?” 
you coughed. “we are.” you continued to finish your food with haste. “just hungry.” 
you heard more steps come down the stairs. but you didn’t turn your head until max did, his eyes brightening as his close friend was approaching.
“mate,” max said, eyeing up lando. “you look like shit. did ‘ya sleep last night?” 
lando hummed with his tired voice, already prepared to go swimming as well. he wore a black shirt with papaya swim trunks. you ogled at him before he looked at you, turning away quickly once he skirted his eyes towards your direction. 
“slept great.” 
you scoffed. 
max and lando turned towards you. the fork in your hands dropped and your eyes widened. a blush creeped onto your cheeks. 
“you snore,” you commented, still refusing to look at him. “you know that?” 
max turned towards lando. “your rooms are next to each other?” the words were poignant, aimed as a remark to the british driver. he simply shrugged his shoulders in response, not finding any reason to engage. 
you stood with your plate in hand, making headway for the sink. from behind, you could feel a pair of eyes heating the plane of your back. you weren’t stupid. and neither was he, knowing exactly what you had done this morning. 
the skirt you wore was a reminiscence of his confession the previous night. it brought back the childlike memories of grade school. a time when life was simpler, and you were just a girl, and he was just a boy. but he knew you weren’t that girl anymore. a woman grown, you were elegant. he didn’t understand how you were related to max, a scruffy rascal, but he was happier for that. 
when you turned on the water for the sink, lando approached you. max had been tending to his phone, scrolling through social media, so he hadn’t been paying attention. lando’s shoulder brushed against your own when you were scrubbing, desperate to say something. 
“you–”
“max,” you interrupted lando, turning off the water and turning towards your brother. lando took a side step away from you, giving you space when max looked up from his phone. you received a side eye from the british driver, his lip curling with pettiness. he saw what you were doing now. was this your form of punishment? 
max responded with a ‘hm?’ “you want me to cook tonight?” you offered, and max glanced at lando, who never stopped looking at you. you saw max’s expression tense. 
“why not. could save us some money, won’t it?” he said, waiting for lando to add on. “right, lando?” 
lando spun around, releasing his tight grip on the counter. he took a sharp breath in, nodding his head in agreement. you watched as a blush creeped onto his face. you bit on the inside of your cheek, but weren’t expecting lando to retaliate. 
he spoke your name, which had your head lifting. “what happened to your lip?” 
you froze. eyes widening. your own lip twitched with a remedy of a snarl, and he bit back, his nose curling with distaste. 
max approached you two, observing your scabbed lip from the night before. “shit. he’s right. what happened?” 
you reached back to clench the marble counter beneath your fingers. “uh–” lando held back his devious smile. “bit it in my sleep, ‘spose.” 
max simply shrugged his shoulders, and headed for the backyard where the pool was. when the door shut, you let out a sigh. lando stepped in front of you, caging you in with his arms. his head dipped to your shoulder, his curls brushing against your cheek. 
“get off me,” you commented with grit, biting your words. lando shook his head, not moving. 
“don’t play this with me,” he said, lifting his head with a deep inhale. you raised a brow at him, having absolutely no idea what he meant. 
“said we weren’t going to do this again, didn’t you?” you made him sit with his words. make him roll in the fucking mud. “we’re not. and if we were–” you shoved his chest with both your hands, which had him lurching backward. he didn’t go far. “i’d fucking win.” 
he invaded your space again, leaning his lips towards yours. you felt his breath again, his scent creeping into your nose. it was like he never left. 
“y’sure ‘bout that?” he said with a light tone, teasing you with the vibrato of his words. you swallowed a lump in your throat. 
but you stood your ground. “positive.” 
lando lingered for a second longer, leaning closer to your lips, and you thought he was going to kiss you out in the open kitchen. “whatever you say.” were the only words he said before he leapt away from you suddenly, leaving your exposed body cold. 
he followed you out to the pool, never leaving enough space between you two. but you had other plans–sticking by max’s side would surely drive him insane. 
so you sat beside your brother all day. in the pool chair next to him. tanning, reading a book, scrolling on your phone– it didn’t matter. it wasn’t long before the rest of your brother’s friends joined everyone by the pool. 
most of them were in the pool by the afternoon. you had made your way to the kitchen, shedding of your skirt and top. left in your swimwear, you wanted a snack. 
in the bowls of fruit you found, you pulled some mango, strawberries, and bananas. you cut them with a knife from the drawer, and put them in a bowl. there was more than enough fruit for everyone, but you took some of your favorites in the meantime. 
the sun was hot that day, and you had forgotten your sunglasses. sunscreen on your head would cause greasy hair, and you didn’t want that. so you searched briefly in the kitchen for any sort of hat that someone left, and you found one. 
it was a papaya hat. with mclaren’s logo, and a number 4 on it. you smirked, bringing the hat atop your head. 
it fit nicely and you grabbed the bowl of fruit. you made your way back outside to the patio and your brother noticed you immediately. he called your name, and you sauntered over. 
lando and his mates had been in the pool playing with a frisbee, but as soon as max had said your name, he was looking over his shoulder. he went speechless. 
with his hat atop your head and your exposed body, he could help but drool at the sight of you. a droplet trailed down his chin, but he dunked the lower half of his mouth into the pool before anyone saw. 
“for us?” max asked towards the bowl of fruit. you popped a slice of mango into your mouth, biting tenderly into the piece before nodding your head. lando swallowed tightly, practically shaking beneath the surface of the water. 
you placed the bowl on the wooden table and stood back as you were met with the onslaught of a crowd of wet dudes. you backed up towards the stairs of the pool, ready to hop in yourself. you thought yourself a genius– having the entire pool to yourself while they ate. but before you stepped in, your elbow was caught in a warm palm.
lando faced you with his bare chest dripping with chlorine, hair ruffled and damp. droplets of water slithered down his cheeks, which you felt tempted to rub away with your thumb, but you retained from stretching out your hands. 
he simply stared at you. and you stared at him. 
then he flicked the end of the cap with his pointer finger and smirked, raising his brows with a teasing fashion. he had the nerve to glance at your chin, narrowing his eyes. you didn’t have time to react before his own thumb came to wipe away a droplet of mango juice from your chin. 
the action was fast, unnoticed by anyone around you. you blushed instantly, freezing in place. lando popped his thumb into his mouth, tongue visibly swirling around the fingertip. he made a humming sound, approving of the taste. 
“tastes sweet.” he muttered to you. he raised his eyes, hooded beneath the glare of the sunlight. “not my favorite, though.” 
holy shit
you thought you were going to pass out. 
with your eyes flared wide, you spun away from him, throwing the hat to the side, and dove straight into the pool. 
you needed to cool off. desperately. and your time in the pool did. when you finally climbed out, max was lounging in the pool chair beneath an umbrella. you joined him in your seat, drying yourself off with your towel. lando was watching the entire time, sitting opposite to max. 
when you finally laid down with the towel of your bare legs, max scoffed at his phone. clearly, he was trying to get your attention. 
“what?” you said, the hat you had thrown off was now back in your lap. 
“look,” max handed you his phone, and you immediately rolled your eyes. it was a picture on instagram of your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend. his new girlfriend that he cheated on you with. he was a fucking asshole, and max knew that from the very beginning. 
“ugh,” you groaned, handing his phone back to him. max took it and was about to keep scrolling. 
“what?” lando asked, curious now to see what the two of you were grumbling about. max handed him his phone, but he was still confused who he was looking at. 
“her ex,” max commented with a rumble. lando’s eyes shot up at you, watching your expression shift. lando was now investigating thoroughly, scrolling through this guys posts. he still had some of you up, and it only angered him. it angered him to an unfair degree, feeling the pinnacle of jealousy, although entirely unwarranted. 
“i brought him to a race once,” you pointed out, unable to look at either of them. instead, you settled on the water in the pool. “barcelona, last year.” your arms crossed over your chest. 
lando raised a brow. “he was that leach for leclerc, wasn’t he?” you were surprised that he remembered, but nodded your head. it wasn’t a good memory. he had abandoned you the minute you arrived at the race in search of the ferrari driver, and had to manage yourself alone in the crowds. it was miserable, but at least you got to see a good show. 
“yeah,” you commented with a huff. “fucking asshole.” 
“asshole.” max mirrored you. 
“why did it end, then?” lando was pushing the boundaries, but max didn’t seem to notice or mind. 
though you did. 
you didn’t want to relive the thought. the embarrassment. the entire fucking heartbreak that you pathetically went through. 
“because i was stupid.” is all you said before you stood with your towel, making your way inside without another word. 
max turned to face lando and smacked him on the shoulder. “the fuck did you ask for?” came his harsh words. lando was stunned, not intending to chase you away.
“shit, sorry i–” lando was quick to rise to his feet, though, not even glancing back at max before he chased after you. “i’ll fix it,” he promised before disappearing inside, and max simply shrugged, wondering just how lando could work his wonders. though he doubted he truly could. 
lando called your name from deep inside the villa but you were already half way up the steps. you froze when you heard his voice, stifling back any sounds from your chest. he caught up to you, standing a step beneath you. 
“i’m sorry–” he said, “i was just—”
“just what, lando?” you grumbled, truly not wanting to hear his words. “you wanna know just how embarrassed i was? huh? when i found he was fucking one of my best friends?” 
lando stood there, shocked, coming to hold out his arms for you to fall into. but you didn’t. “i was such a fucking idiot. it was right in front of me but i didn’t believe it. how smart of me, right?!” your voice raised when lando cornered you at the top of the stairs, your back against the wall. 
you couldn’t help but spew emotional nonsense. “oh woe is me, truly, you’d probably end up doing the same–”
lando caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand leaning against the wall. “what did you say?” 
you gulped, not meaning for the words to slip off your tongue. shit. he looked pissed. pissed that you would think so lowly of him. 
“i–” you gulped. “i didn’t mean–”
his hand tightened around your chin. “really? that what you think of me?” no, no, no! you didn’t. you didn’t. you shook your head in his hold, your eyes largening with your emotions. 
“if you were my girl,” lando whispered to you, not breaking eye contact with you once. “you’d know it.” 
but you dared to disagree. 
“what am i then?” you challenged, your voice raising in the echoing halls. “what was i yesterday, a whore?” 
he bared his teeth at you, displeased with what you called yourself. his hand from your chin latched onto the side columns of your throat and your mouth parted with a delectable pleasure. 
“you needed me, yeah?” he was sure to comment. but you didn’t budge. 
“get your hands off me.” you bit out. 
“you didn’t seem to mind yesterday.” 
“clearly you didn’t do a good job for a second run,” the words pinched his ego, though the hand against the wall came to slide around your waist. 
“weren’t you begging for me? or did i make that up?” you seethed at his cocky tone. 
“think you had too much to drink. i’d never beg.” it was a straight lie that came from your lips. he knew it. you knew it. but you pretended to keep your strength. 
“‘touch me, please,’” he mocked in your tone. 
“must’ve dreamed it. thinking ‘bout me, lan?” the nickname was new for him on your tongue and he bristled, along with the blood soaring to his cock. 
“‘more, need–” you slapped your hand over his mouth.
“fuck you.” you hissed. his mouth curved to a smile before he let his grip on you go. 
“we’ll see if you’re lucky tonight.” 
you brushed past him with a scoff and he stood there idly, watching your hips sway side to side. he chuckled at your retreat and you flipped him off before entering your room and slamming the door. you were done with these fucking games, his toying words. he had no right to approach you after finding out about your ex. 
you immediately turned on the shower in your room and stripped of your bathing attire. it was when you were searching aimlessly through your drawer of panties, you remembered that you were missing a pair. 
a smirk grew on your face, and you couldn’t help but feel that you held the power. 
a few hours had passed after your interaction with lando, and he couldn’t help but feel anxious. you were missing from the entirety of the activities around the pool, and he even dared knock on your door, but he resisted. though it tore him apart, thinking about your writhing anger. 
but you, you had other plans. you’d showered off from the pool, taken care of your skin, and taken a nap before you were to get up and make dinner. 
you had come up with the idea for dinner. 
fish. as everyone enjoyed. 
you smirked to yourself as you made your way down the steps. it was quiet, and you heard no churning of others about the halls. it was nice to revere yourself in the solitude of the late afternoon, hoping that you would have the entirety of the downstairs floor yourself. 
you got to work with your scheme and pulled out the fish from the fridge. whatever you were making, you were sure it would be delicious. 
and when the meal was just about done, you heard a strangulated sound of ample footsteps down the staircase. you were just about done setting the dinner table when max soared through the kitchen, aiming right for the pans and pots of ingredients you sniffed.
“woo!” he cheered, clearly delighted with your cooking. the other boys at his side were quick to mimic him, agreeing with his statement. your hands clamped over your heart, showing how happy you were that they were thrilled.
“well,” you urged. “go sit! i’ll bring it over.” 
they didn’t hesitate. beginning to take spoonfuls of rice, vegetables, and the fried fish you whipped up, they were eager to get a headstart. your thoughts wondered where the british driver was, but your thoughts were answered when you heard the last pair of footsteps through the grand foyer. 
you just finished placing the bowls of food in front of the eager boys. they weren’t polite in waiting for everyone to sit down, but you didn’t mind. 
it was an afterthought  for what his meal would be. of course you knew he despised fish. you listened to everything he said when you were younger, years ago, and never forgot. 
you leaned against the kitchen aisle, facing him, and he immediately recoiled at the smell. his nose turned upright, curling upward with his lip, and you saw the sparkle of his canines. 
lando approached you, the stove, and took a glance at what the helpings were. he turned his head over his shoulder, giving you a knowing look, which you returned with a small shrug and a smirk.
“witch.” he uttered, hands clamping around the edges of the countertops, unsure what he was going to fish through the cabinets for. 
“don’t worry.” you said, lando turning to raise his brows. you slid him a bowl filled with greens, vegetables, and a little bit of rice. “plenty for you, don’t you think?” 
you cocked your head toward the empty seat, but he instead took the one right next to you. the bowl in your hands was pungent with sprouts, and even you recoiled. you placed it down in front of him, letting your hand linger on his back. “i’m no dietician,” you said quietly. “but i tried to substitute as much as i could.” 
“thank you,” he said through clenched teeth, fucker. 
you were quaint with your serving, taking enough for your fill, and sat down swiftly. conversation grew between all of the men, your brother included, and you ate in silence. you had done more thinking about your situation with your ex, and recoiled with a sickening feeling in your stomach. lando watched from the corner of his eye, noticing how little you touched your fork with your lips and spun your spoon amongst the rice. 
he knew he said tribulating words. taunted you. teased you. but he did not mean for it to stretch as far as it had. you were twiddling with the accessories on your wrists, barely saying a word the entire meal, and he felt that it was his fault. you’d only gone as far enough to tease him with a full fish basking over an open flame on the stove. 
it wasn’t shameful when he was devouring the meal you had cooked. despite the repugnant smell of fish lingering in the air, your food was…divine. he wasn’t all that surprised, but it was a nice treat to end one of the first full days. 
but the most courageous ideas filled his head. he kept looking at you, staring, out of the corner of his eye. you were entirely blue with your melancholy, and he resented the soured expression upon your beautiful face. he took it as his own responsibility to relieve you of your worries. your anxieties. insecurities. as it was his fault that they emerged. 
it didn’t take long before beneath the table, lando’s hand wandered. he began with a soft graze of your knee which had you sitting up straight, white skirt you dressed in before remaking its appearance around your hips. 
you turned your head to face him, eyes flaring with wonder of just what the fuck he was doing. but his expression stayed nonchalant, undeterred from his conversation with your brother. you decided that you should play the same game, sliding into the roll of uncaring of his soft touches.
though it was much easier said than done. 
his fingers were daunting. restless. he took a break to sip his water with his opposite hand, divulging into deeper conversation as his hand trailed higher. it was then that he spread his palm wide over the span of your thigh, bare, pinching at the skin. you leaned over the table, leaning your head into your palms that were supported by your elbows upon the table. 
you sighed, your other leg jumping up and down. you attempted to listen to whatever they were talking about– football, instagram, the races– but you couldn’t tune in for long. not when he tugged the fabric of your skirt to the side, and let his pinky dance across your folds. fuck. 
attempting to muffle your struggle, you brought your glass to your lips, sipping in promptitude. you leaned back, tucking your chair as far as you could against the table. it finally caught lando’s attention, briefly, when he gave you a once over with a cheeky smile. max caught the action, raising a brow at you, but you simply swallowed down your drink and crossed your hands over your lap. 
your lap, that so happened to house lando’s hand between your thighs. your cunt was clothed by your panties, but you could still feel the pressure of his finger lodging against your slit. 
you wrapped your hand around his wrist, gripping tight with the desire for him to stop, but he would do no such thing. he went as far as using his ring finger to stroke the cotton of your underwear, grazing over your clit as if it were nothing. he circled around your tender bundle of nerves, refusing to leave it alone. 
your second hand came to wrap around his wrist, higher up on his forearm, pleading indefinitely to halt his movements. your thighs clenched impossibly tight around his hand, suffocating him, but it didn’t stop him. it only had him steadfast in his pursuit– to get you to come at this dinner table. 
with your force against his forearm, you were sure to leave bruises of your fingertips in your wake. but you didn’t care. through your tension, he could feel your pleasure. he knew that you would writhe, squirm, but you couldn’t. not here. 
you found yourself trembling. your grip around his wrist softened, lip caught between your top set of teeth. you were lucky that the tablecloth was acting as a barrier between any wandering eyes–though, shamefully, that was the last thing on your mind. 
but right now, you felt yourself coming to a clearing. a light at the end of the tunnel in the name of your orgasm. shit. 
it took only one quick glance around the room to see that everyone was done with their meals. with empty plates, they were awaiting more. and more you shall give, best to get up rather than submit to lando’s toilsome teasing. you couldn’t give him this pleasure. not when he toyed with you, refused to admit to any truths that might belittle his feelings. 
you finally shoved his hand away. it took all the might you had, and it even had his head shifting in your direction. you stood, and he immediately tugged the hem of your skirt down beneath the table cloth. if anyone noticed, they didn’t say a word. 
“dessert, anyone?” 
there was a small rally of cheers, and you smiled. it was the only thing that could get your mind off of lando’s hand between your legs. the flushed expression you wore didn’t wane until you were alone in the kitchen. 
it was ice cream that was for dessert, and that would be enough. you put out some toppings for them to choose from, and returned with the platter. you set it toward the center of the table, and the pickings were gone instantly. everyone had their own serving, side bowl, ready to go. 
but lando waited for you to settle back in before he grabbed a pint of vanilla. he nudged the ice cream scooper towards your direction, a silent indication that had him asking if he could serve yours. you simply nodded, even though your cunt burned with the phantom touch of his fingers. he did that to you in no way another man could. leave you wanting more. sex with your ex boyfriend had been a joke. you never came. ever. you only did when it was at your own hand, your own touch. but with lando…
lando on that balcony, dressed in the pale moonlight. you, his angel, glowing halo of energy illuminating your face, unraveled before him. he doesn’t think he’s ever met such a woman receptive to his touch. he’s fucked girls before, too many for max’s taste–hence his displeasure– but they weren’t like you. they didn’t squirm, whimper, in his hold. they’d moan like they were being televised, recorded, ready to be on a screen play.
you were natural. beautiful. incapable of being anyone but yourself. he admired you for such bravery, commending you silently through the cosmic planes. though you could not hear the words from him, you felt a warmth coming from his direction despite the cold treat being scooped into the dish in front of you. 
he gave you more than enough and smiled. a real one, you caught. it was a break from the humidity, a breeze that was most welcomed upon your skin. fuck. you were supposed to be mad at him, weren’t you? weren't you supposed to plot your volatile revenge for him touching you? 
you were. 
when he settled beside you with his own serving, you were quick to shuffle a bit closer to him. the chair scooted across the floor, a vibration felt beneath his own, and he bristled. what were you up to? you appeared to be happier, a bit less caught up in your own head, and that he could be grateful for. you even engaged in a few conversations with max’s friends. 
they were lovely chaps, truly, but they were his friends. not yours. 
lando was just about to respond to a question that max had asked him, but he coughed on his ice cream, the feeling of your fingertips darting across his crotch taking a huge galavanting surprise out of him. he didn’t know that you had such austerity within you, but it was a welcome discovery.
but your skillfulness was not. 
the outline of his cock beneath his shorts was obvious. you felt the light curve, the tip, the base all beneath your palm. it was an empowering sensation, hidden beneath the table cloth, and lando had to outstretch both of his hands to steady himself. 
“y’alright, mate?” max asked when lando coughed. the british driver nodded beside you, leaning forward. 
“yeah. fine. carry on?” max repeated his question for lando. before he was about to answer for a second time, your hand curled around the base of his cock, feeling full in your palm. your thumb brushed against his tip, smiling to yourself when you felt a light wet patch against your finger. 
he sucked in a tight breath, but answered max with a strained voice. he clenched his jaw tight and his tongue poked the inside of his cheek. you knew you were riling him, and it was paying off to see him flustered. 
you continued your stroking motion discreetly beneath the table. the excitement of being caught was perhaps too thrilling, and the presence of your hand against his cock only excited you further. he was big. that was enough for you to be floored. your guesses as a edgy teenage girl were correct, and the woman inside of you purred at the idea of him inside of you. 
little did you know, he thought the same. when his fingers were lodged inside your hot folds, your deathly tight grip clamping around him, he knew that he had to have you. he knew it years ago, too, but just how pretty you were atop of him…how receptive you were to his touch– it was a pillar of pleasure that continued to build and build, until it will ultimately fall. 
until it will fall, and he is deep inside of you. with the outline of his cock embedded in your lower belly he would feel satisfied, with his cum dripping from your cunt, he could find a peace from this torturous lust that overtook every fucking part of his mind. he needed you. carnally. in whatever fashion labeled him as a barbarian, he would hunt you down if that is what you wanted. 
and maybe you did. 
you wanted him to chase you. to fight for you. to appease the teenage girl inside of you that yearned for his affections, his oblivious attentions. you felt that you deserved it for all the work you put in through your teendom. the boys you rejected. the time you gave up to attend his races. 
was that such a bad thing to be wanted? to be wanted above all, by the man of your wonderlike dreams? but was he so dreamy, then, when he glanced at you with his needy, preening eyes when you held his cock so firm in your hand? 
the answer was undoubtedly yes. 
you felt the pulse of his cock against your hand. it was a delectable vibration that beat for you of all people. you felt more than divine prowess gripping his length, such a dirty, lewd, action beneath the table. and none of them knew what you had been doing. how you were affecting him. it was a secret wasn’t it? 
the catalyst for your movements was about to be thwarted when he readjusted his hips in the chair, bucking fiercely against your touch, your hold on his dick. 
conversations around you began to dull down to a minimum. the night was ending, and he felt himself rearing a release. but he couldn’t. not here. fuck. he gripped on your hand beneath the table, shivering, shaking, as he pleaded you with his eyes. they were wide drawn, glossed with a desperation that you needed permanently in your life. it was a face you wouldn’t forget. ever. how he yearned to cum in your hand, but it wasn’t the right time. when would be the right time? 
“since you made dinner,” max began, letting out a grueling burp, “i say we lot ‘ought to tidy up, shall we?” the boys nodded and hummed amongst each other in agreement. they made quick pace clearing the table, and this was lando’s excuse to rip himself free of your devilish hand. though he wanted nothing more than to cum with your sleek fingertips, he had to be nonchalant about it all. 
he cleared his throat when he stood, feigning a quietness that felt unusual, but no one said a word. you smiled to yourself, pulling your hand away back to your lap. it was damp from his precum, sordid with an urge to pop a finger or two into your mouth. and you did. pretending to clean yourself from any residue of icecream, you licked your fingers clean. 
lando stared. unable to take his eyes off of you. he lingered with his hand around your bowl and plate, his breath hitching in his throat. devil woman, he thought. 
when the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher and the fragile ones laid out to dry, you finally stood. you arched your back, stretching your limbs, but felt cold on your cunt. it was the air conditioning that cooled you, reminding you that he was the one to tease you first beneath the table. 
your brother bid you goodnight with a kiss to your cheek, whilst the others thanked you sincerely for the meal. you were grateful to receive such gratitude, but it wasn’t from the man you wanted it the most. 
tucking your chair into the table, you made your way into the grand kitchen. with its tiled walls, marbled kitchen island, lando stood at the epicenter. with a towel in his hand, drying the last few of the dishes, he watched you saunter in. 
his tongue poked at the inner corner of his cheek with a clenched jaw. boy, did he have words for you. you and your actions. how you ruined him at the dinner table whilst talking to your brother of all people. it was like you wanted them to see–
ah
ah
when you joined him side by side, the pair of you said nothing for a moment. but the moment when lando scanned the room front to back, he dropped the towel and grabbed onto you.
he spun you around so your front pushed against the kitchen aisle, your back arching against the palm of his hand. his second went around the front of your throat, pulling your head up to his own. 
“that what you wanted?” he growled into your ear, trembling with his edged orgasm teetering on the tailend of a massacre. “hmm? tell me, baby.” 
you were at a loss of words, dizzied from the grip around your throat. you wished that he would leave bruises. 
then he bent you over the counter, the cool surface eliciting a gasp from deep within you. his hand flexed over your back, scaling your spine. 
“being a fucking tease…” 
“you started it.” you retaliated with a childlike immaturity. 
lando chuckled as his crotch came flush against your cunt. your wet, dampening cunt by the second. the hand that had been latched to your throat moved to your skirt, toying with the fabric. he scoffed, feeling the wetness of your panties. “bet you’re still wet anyways.”
you were.
your face flushed. 
“dirty fucking girl.” he said quietly, a comment to himself, but loud enough for you to hear. you swayed your hips against his, desperate for a flickering sensation of friction. 
“ah ah,” he tsked, landing a slap to your ass. the sound ricocheted through the echoing kitchen. “think you deserve it after tonight?”
you mewled in response, your cheek freezing against the countertop. the heat from your asscheek was enough to satisfy you for the moment, your thighs clenching together. he ogled, head twisting in a fashion that was revered with lust. 
with a fist he made a makeshift ponytail of your hair, pulling your head back against his chest. “hmm?” 
“no.” 
“no?” he’d repeat. you nodded your head, submitting to him without question. he was peeved that you didn’t fight back, but would take your submission with earnestness. but you had other plans brewing inside your head. ones that you knew would drive him up the fucking wall.
but that would come later. for now, you let your head fall backward onto his shoulder, and looked up at him. “let me fix it…”
your whimpering had his eye twitching, lip curling, arms flexing. it was a gut reaction to how soft your voice had become, how eager he knew you were. 
his hold on you loosened, and you took this as your opportunity to spin around and drop to your knees in front of him. you couldn’t help but gape at his thundering cock beneath his shorts, salivating at just the thought of him filling your mouth. 
but he said nothing else, stunned in his place; how could he not be when you regarded him with ardor, quivering hands?
“please…” you said, your cheek coming to nuzzle against his thigh, one hand gripping the back of his calf. he couldn’t reject you like this. not when he wanted you so dearly. 
a hand came to run through your hair atop your head. an nonverbal, encouraging pet. you hummed, making quick work of lowering his shorts, his briefs, and his cock sprung free with vitality. it was red hot, pulsating with blood, beating a bright scarlet for you. it glistened with his own slick for you. 
“go on, love,” he was breathless. “you can take it, can’t you?” 
you nodded furiously, a whine leaving your lips. with your determined fingers, you wrapped them around his base, pumping your hand back and forth. it didn’t take much before he was leaking over your palm, and you let your lips swirl around his tip.
his head fell back in pleasure, fingers tightening his grip in your hair. with his empty hand, he gripped the island to support his weight from toppling upon you. 
he was both sweet and salty, a sensation you’ve never tasted before. you continued your relentless pursuit on his tip until he was wrought with desperation, and let his hips buck forward until he was half way down your throat. 
you groaned in protest, your eyes watering with tears, but took him like the good girl you were. he wanted you, and you wanted him. you could ask for nothing more. 
“just like that, baby–” he stuttered out, voice cracking when you took him whole down your throat. you breathed through your nose. “fuck,” he cursed, your lips puckering, even stimulating him with the top ridges of your teeth. he let out a deep moan. 
“perfect,” he commented, but you thought you misheard him for a moment. “you’re perfect.” 
it persuaded you further–not like much was needed– and sped up your pace. faster and faster you went, guzzling him perfectly. with your other hand that gripped his calf, calm to knead at his balls. that was the moment he faltered, unable to withstand your feverish tongue. he had to bite back his own groans of pleasure. 
“where?” he demanded of you. you paused, but didn’t take long for your answer. he was holding himself back as much he could, his hips bucking down the hot cavern of your throat, but you didn’t relent. my mouth, your actions screamed, and he didn’t think twice.
before you knew it your mouth was loaded with his cum, hot rods of delectable nectar from him. you were pleased, more than satisfied, that you made him cum in just a matter of minutes. 
he pulled himself out of you, letting you breathe. you swallowed, not finding him distasteful, and even showed him your bare tongue. he was panting, attempting his best to catch his breath, but managed a coarse chuckle. 
you gave his flaccid cock a singular kiss before you rose to your feet, bringing his shorts and briefs up with you. he adjusted himself before launching his lips on your own. the remnants of him were prominent on your tastebuds as he swirled his tongue into your mouth. you allowed his strength, making a sound from your throat. 
“taste like me,” he commented against your lips. you beam. 
“must’ve been good, then?” you knew it was. but you wanted to hear it from him. 
he snickered. “guess so.” 
you slapped his chest before breaking your kiss. you glanced up at him one more time before placing a kiss on his cheek, escaping his grasp. he held onto your hand, though, wondering just where you were going. not when he didn’t have you cumming on his tongue. 
“it’s past my bedtime,” you remarked, raising your brows. his own scrunched. “what?”
“let me–” 
you shushed him. 
“on the house.” 
you were gone before he could respond, skipping up the steps, ready to set your plan in motion. he didn’t know what was coming, not yet, but he surely would once you closed the door to your room, and stripped of your clothes. 
you left him there pondering. he was entirely at a loss— you skirting away with ease, high tail with that lacey material– and vanished without another word. it had lando breathing heavily, hands running through his hair. shit, he thought, this was bad. 
in the bathroom of your suite, you twisted the shower on. whilst waiting for it to heat up, you turned your attention towards the open shaft windows that you could prop open. your room is next to mine, lando’s words rang through your head. okay, you thought, game on, right?
you made sure the windows were open at a respectable distance, praying that his own would be too. he liked the cool breeze from the night, pray tell from his times of sleeping in max’s room in your childhood home. 
glancing at yourself in the mirror once, you were betting on this to work. to truly grab his attention, whilst also awarding yourself a release you’d been craving since his fingertips caressed your knee. 
into the shower you went, tilting your head back and letting the waterfall drench your scalp. it was relaxing, more than you anticipated, and your mind was able to wander to other things. like his hands. his toned, muscular arms. his neck, built intensely with strength that you’ve never seen before. in certain lights, especially beneath the italian sun, it bulged outward. you wondered what it’d feel like between your thighs. your fingers wandered along your soaked skin, breasts reacting to your touch, taut beneath your palms. 
lando had just shut the door to his room, shaking off the sweat that dribbled down his forehead. and his windows were open— the curtains swaying back and forth— and he heard your call. 
at first, the british driver thought that he was hallucinating. that he was hearing things from losing it. but there was no denying that it was your sweet siren serenading through the air, wafting against the mediterranean winds. 
a moan had been pulled from you by your own hand. your head flat against the tiles of the shower wall, you twisted until your cheek was firm against the siding. one hand came to rest on the base of your throat, gripping for comfort, while the other trailed downward to your navel, priming at your folds. 
you were swollen hot, but never to the same degree you were on his lap just the previous night. 
it was enough, though, for you to rub against your clit the way you knew your body best. a delicious combination of whimpers and moans trembling through the air. 
lando was brought to his fantasies, unbelieving that they were coming alive before him. he leaned against the windows from his room, hand clenching tight around the ledge, and listened to your whining calls, urging him, tempting him, to knock down your fucking door and fuck you like you wanted him. 
a finger slid easily inside of you. with both stimulation to your clit and your sensitive nerves inside of you, it was heaven. the hot water combined with your punitive thoughts, tracing back to lando, aroused you to a degree unfathomable to any pleasure you’ve ever felt. besides his fingers, that is. 
lando couldn’t resist. his own cock was blistering with heat, again, in just the span of ten minutes. you had just been on his knees for him. now, here you were, a siren within the night, taking him under your bewitching. 
and spellcasted he was. 
with his dick in his hands, he was dripping. your sounds became louder, prominent, for his open window. and he absorbed every droplet you gave him, a man dehydrated of the world’s most sweet nectar. he was greedy, selfish even, and knew then that he had to be yours. he didn’t give a fuck what max said, thought, cared about this moment. it would belong to him and him alone— your saccharine temper. 
he could imagine you there, thinking about just how desperate he was. how you knew what you were doing to him. how he unfolded before your voice. 
you were. 
you thought of his face. how it contorted with pleasure while you sucked him off. you’d remember the sounds he made— whimpers of desperate, wicked nature— that had you curling your finger inside of you, even becoming so bold as to add a second. it should be criminal to think of your brother’s best friend this way, but that thought came and went just as the tides changed. 
lando fisted his cock with the thought of you wrapped around him. hand draped across the ledge of the windowsill, he writhed and seethed from his own daring thoughts of you. your skirt, your pretty eyes, your wondrous nature. he was awed by you, but wanted to damn you to ruin with his touch. it pursued him further, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long.
surely he wouldn’t, not when he heard his name carry through the air. his name rolling off your tongue. his name in the form of a whimper. 
“lando,” you breathed, loud enough to surpass the stream of the water. and your stomach coiled, reaching an orgasm before you could count to three.
lando had, too, spurring loads of his come into his empty hand. it wasn’t an elegant movement— rather messy and untamed— but that’s how it was when it came to you, wasn’t it? nothing was going to be easy about this relationship he conjured up in his head, but for you, though it’d be worthwhile. 
you went to bed that night with a sleep full of your wildest, fanatical dreams that included lando. whereas he tossed and turned, unable to believe that the girl he knew in his childhood had him wrought with lust. 
the morning that followed was a quiet one. you and the rest of the vacation group of boys were headed out to one of italy’s finest beaches, chartered there by a small boat. you had opted for one of your best bathing suits and cover up pieces, looking outright chic. 
when you arrived at the beach, you stuck closely to max’s side. the entire ride, lando had been stealing glances from you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. you had your answer from your plan the previous night. he heard you. 
good, you thought, crossing your legs over one another. serves him right. 
you’d lay out your towel on the white sand. your brother joined you, laying down a few feet from you along with some of his buddies. lando kept his distance, knowing too fucking well that’d he’d pull some feral shit in front of you and your brother. 
some of the others opted for surfing. with their boards ready from the rental shack, they were catching waves with ease. you watched from your upright position, lathering yourself in spf. 
“what’dya think of chris?” your brother asked you. you turned your head, wondering what he was implying. chris was one of his good-natured, all classic, sweet boy friends. you’d known him for a good majority of your life, but never…really thought of him. 
“he’s a good guy.”  
lando was sitting up now. listening. 
“well,” max shrugged, taking your nonchalant answer with grace. “asked me if it was okay to give him your number. think he fancies you.” 
your expression dropped. chris fancied you? in what universe could he, when he couldn’t even manage a conversation with you. you weren’t even sure he could ever muster the courage to look you in the eye, for that matter. 
“and…what did you say?” 
max looked at you with his sunglasses on. you saw your reflection in them. 
“think it’s fine. ‘e’s a good lad. nice. well-mannered.” he emphasized his last point. was that a jab at your previous boyfriends? “besides…i wanna see you happy.” 
it was touching, truly, that your brother cared for you on such a protective level, but you didn’t need him meddling with your romantic life. not when the man who consumed your sexual thoughts sat a few bodies next to you. 
your eyes drifted to find lando’s. he was already glaring, sending sharp daggers your direction. he heard it all, and was about to combust with jealousy. you could see it. you’d use it. 
“maybe.” you brushed it off, but found chris in the waters. he was just coming out from the sea, and you thought this was your perfect opportunity. 
you jumped to your feet, sunglasses on, and tore your cover up from your body. you didn’t look back to know what lando’s expression was— worshiping. 
chris’ head popped up when he saw you approaching him. he shifted a bit, as if he were preening his feathers. 
“catch any good ones?” you asked, your feet touching the water. chris cleared his throat. 
“some,” he gestured to the large waves. “current is strong today.” 
you edged further into the water until your knees were covered. 
“you looked good out there, at least i think so.” you managed a smile, not entirely opposed to his company. your brother had been right. he is a nice lad. you should at least build a friendship with him, shouldn’t you? 
“really?” he was shocked. “you were watching?” 
you nodded with a hum, and continued further out into the blue waters. chris took this as an invitation and dropped his board high up on the sand and followed you in. he wasn’t as built as lando was, but you shouldn’t even be making the comparisons. 
you stopped when the water was just beneath your breasts. water seeped in through your top, and you noticed that chris’ eyes caught on the fabric. typical. 
“what do you do for work, then? are you a student?” you managed a brief conversation with him. chris met you at your side. 
“business student in scotland,” he confirmed, but he wasn’t all cocky about it. you thought that he’d boast, but he didn’t. “yourself?” 
you told him your plans. he was impressed that you’d accomplished so much at your age. 
and your conversation with him went on, but not without the darkness of lando’s envy over your shoulder. you’d taken a few glances over chris’ shoulder to see his reddened expression, watching the pair of you share a few laughs. 
he wanted this day to be fucking over. he wanted you in his bed. and he would have it one way or another— whatever it takes. 
arriving back to the villa that evening, your brother and his friends wanted to go out clubbing. it was around 8pm and the sun was beginning to set, though you didn’t feel like a night out. the sun had gotten to you, and you were rather tired. 
“you’re sure you don’t wanna go?” max asked you in the foyer, waiting for the rest of his band to go along.
“i’m sure. besides, i could use a night in.” your brother respected your choice and didn’t push you further. before he left with his friends, he did turn and leave you with one comment.
“lando’s here, too, in case you need anything.” 
and then he was gone, tailending with chris flashing you a smile. 
shit. 
shit, shit, shit. you knew you were in for it now. there was no way that you’d escape lando for the evening, unsure how he caught notice that you’d be staying in for the night. 
when the door shut and the house was empty, you raced up to your room. you’d worn a floor length slip dress when you’d gotten home, but wanted to change and lock yourself in for the rest of the night. but your situation changed drastically when you reached the first step, and saw lando leaning against the staircase from the top. 
“just you and me, yeah?”
you gulped, taking a few steps back. he looked furious yet unbothered at the same time. 
“what to do, what to do…” he began to saunter down the steps when you moved back. “in this big, empty house…?” 
he trailed after you all the way until you were on the balcony. he slipped out from the sliding door, watching as you were frantically nervous in his presence. you had no idea what he was thinking, watching you all day flirt with chris. 
your back was against the stone balustrade, hands spread wide to support yourself. your heart was racing, but you wouldn’t let him see that. wouldn’t show him the effect he had. 
lando wore a black ln4 shirt from his collection, along with tan sweatpants. it was an understatement to say he didn’t look fucking good. 
he donned a cocky smirk as he closed the distance between the two of you, leaning into your space. you felt his breath on your cheek. 
“he’s a good lad, innhe?” 
you met his eye— his blue, green eyes that were swarmed with a darkness you didn’t believe him capable of. 
“he’s nice.” you said, referring to chris. because he was. he was respectful. 
“‘he’s nice.’” lando mocked, scoffing. he turned his head to the side to look over your shoulder to the coastline that surrounded the villa. 
“yes, he’s nice.” you bit back, brows furrowing. “more than i can say for you.”
lando’s expression froze, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. his jaw tightened as he processed your words, foot tapping against the stone. 
“yeah? you don’t think i’m good to you?” 
whatever this was…you loved it. you craved him. needed him. there was a zing of electricity that ran down your spine, electrifying your cunt. your thighs tightened together and you shrugged, playing him off the best that you could. 
he tsked, tilting your chin to meet his eyes with his index finger. “we’ll see.” 
and then his lips were on yours. ravaging. starving. he was a man that has been deprived of you for far too long— twenty four hours— without your touch. it was maddening the way he was obsessed with you. how you infested every corner of his mind. you, you, and more you. 
you succumbed to his kiss with ease, your tongues battling between one another. he tasted of espresso, whereas you tasted of the apple liquor from the boat. 
he won, ultimately, a hand coming to wrap around the back of your neck. your own latched to his shoulders, another going for his hair. you tugged on the strands, eliciting a groan from him that you wished to hear over and over, time and time again. you were sure that you would, not daring to ever let him go. you had him surrounded.
his tongue lathered over yours, dripping saliva down your chin. it was messy, intangibly so, but you’d have him no other way. you wanted him like this, uncontrolled, pining, for your affections. you had him in the place you wanted, and he had more in store for you. 
he broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting the pair of you. your eyes heavy with desire, his own mirroring the same. his kisses traveled to your jaw, your throat— but he sucked feverishly against the skin, surely to leave bruises. you gasped when you felt his teeth puncture through the top layer of your skin. “marks—” 
you reminded him, but he didn’t care.
“fuck what they think.” 
you melted where you stood. his hand came to wrap around your lower back, angling your hips to brush against his. he was already hard, you could feel it, but you were sure that you were dribbling too. 
his relentless pursuit of your neck didn’t end there. when he met the fabric of your dress, he pulled the straps down with ease, your breasts falling free. he ogled at your mounds, saliva dripping from his chin. it was, perhaps, the hottest sight you’ve ever seen. not the waterfalls of france, not the cascades of lake como— but this, right here— lando norris drooling on your chest.
“what would you do with ‘nice’?” he mumbled into your skin, attacking one of your perked nipples with his tongue. you gasped, biting your lip to retain a moan. 
“he could treat me well,” you seethed through clenched teeth, gripping the strands of his brunette curls. you felt him vibrate with a hum. 
“you’d eat him alive.” he chuckled, switching to your other nipple that was blistering with heat. your entire body radiated like the sun, but did no good beneath the moonlight. “what would he do—” a nip of his teeth against your nipple, you jolted, hips bucking forward with an anxious pension for friction. “with all of this?” 
you were at a loss for words, drowning in his sweetness. 
“let it go to waste…” lando dropped to his knees with a hand still firm on your back, the other raising the hem of your dress. he tsked, cheek flattening out against your thighs. he separated them with the strength of his neck, looking up at you from the bundled fabric. “a shame.” 
you agreed mercilessly, nodding your head with a whimper. it elicited a laugh from him. 
with a singular finger he pulled down your panties. the cotton was thin, as if you knew this would happen. they slid down your legs and you kicked them away. 
your hand was still threaded at the base of his neck, continuing to tug at his strands. it’s how you told him you needed him, but that wouldn’t be enough. not for lando.
“what do you want?” he asked, looking up at you from his seated position, face wedged between your legs. you gaped at him, breathless and flushed. 
“your mouth—” you pant, but before you could finish he licked a long stripe down your folds. “god, fuck—” 
“not god,” lando corrected. “just me, baby.” 
“lando, lando…!” you whined, back arching for a better angle for him to reach. he responded, humming against your clit, sending throttling vibrations up your navel. he was so fucking good. how? how could a man treat you in such a way? 
finding your writhing adorable, he finally let his tongue swipe past your entrance. the sensation was indescribable, but you knew that you needed more. and more he was willing to give, burying his face into your cunt. 
your honeyed cunt that he was addicted to. he knew you’d taste like heaven, but this was all the more holy than he could fathom. 
with his face buried inside of you, you were sure to see stars. here, beneath the moonlight of the italian villa, you were ethereal. he could steal glances up at you. your contorting face, toiling with passion. passion that he drank from the source, sucking you dry. 
his nose applied pressure to your clit— the perfect combination— and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. not with his jean paul scent invaded your senses, his thick hands cupping you so perfectly. one hand kneaded at the flesh of your thigh, the other swirling circles on your lower back. it was perfect. he’s perfect. 
“please, please,” you didn’t know what you were begging for. 
lando hummed, feeling your cunt clench around his tongue. he curled inside of you, teetering you upon your edge, and you were just about to let loose when he pulled his head away, leaving you trembling. 
he stood with ease, as if he wasn’t just devouring you, and you reached out for his hand. you were about to reach the peak of a mind blowing orgasm, but he denied you. with your hand wrapped around his, he knew how this would end. his lips came to your ear. 
“you were right,” he huffed. you felt his retentive anger. “don’t know if i’m nice.” 
he tugged you along through the house, hand upon your back steading your shaking stance. too impatient to help you up the steps, he swooped you into his arms bridal style. you gasped with a giggle, reflexive from his actions, and he burst open the door to his room with his shoulder. 
he dropped you onto his bed, ripping off his shirt in the process you propped yourself up on your elbows, gaping clearly at his tanned, toned skin. he smirked down at you, coming to hover above, and stripped the dress clean from your body. before him, you were bare, naked, more exposed than you've ever been with your brother’s best friend. 
you went to cover your chest, clamp your thighs shut, but lando refused. he trapped your wrists above your head, knee coming to separate your legs. you wiggled your hips hopelessly for friction, still wading heavy on your lost orgasm, but he didn’t let you graze his thigh. 
“you’re being mean,” you whined, attempting to twist out of his hold. but you didn’t prevail. 
lando’s lips met yours with a kiss of depravity. he pulled away, but you chased him, your head leveraging from the bed. 
“am i?” 
one hand left the hold on your wrists to touch your cunt. you were dripping down your thighs. he brought his fingers to his lips, wiping them clean. 
“think you like it, love.” 
you hissed when he took his hand from you, but relaxed when he kneaded one of your breasts. he was in utter reverence of your body, your beauty. you eclipsed all things that shined bright in his life, you becoming the epicenter. 
his pants were off in the next second, thrown to the corner of his room. his briefs, too, and his cock danced freely from its entrapment. your mouth watered. 
“this what you need?” his tip teased your entrance. your eyes rolled back into your head with a frenzied nod. “yeah? think you can take it?” 
“yes, yes! i can, i can, please lando…” your hand latched around the back of his neck, the other to his shoulder. 
it didn’t take him much convincing to surge forward, agonizingly slow, until he has inside of you. you choked on your breath, the air ripped right from you lungs with how he stretched you. it was alike no pleasure you’ve felt— his fingers, his tongue, all works of mastery— but you feared that nothing could compare to this. not when his hand around your breasts drop to your cunt, rubbing voracious circles against your clit. 
he let you adjust, waiting until you shook your hips from side to side, and bottomed out. it was surreal how you ended up here. but you wouldn’t go back. not for a second. not when his dick inside of you ripped through you with such passion, such love, you were inclined to imagine. 
lando’s own breaths were wild. erratic. he had to halt himself from slamming inside of you, your tightening, wet walls gleaning him of any morals he had come into this villa with. 
“move,” you urged him, breaking him free of this torment. his eyes flared wide. “need you to move.” 
need
such an all encompassing word that would drive him mad. 
he listened to you without hesitation. his hips slapping in and out of you with a heavy, dangerous pace, he never wanted this moment to end. it would feel like this every time he fucked you— the first, starstruck time— and that would be enough for him to lay to rest in an early grave.
both of you were a mess of moans, sounds of skin on skin echoing through his bedroom. the moonlight casted a white haze upon the pair of you, your eyes shimmering in the reflection. he was lost in it, in you, how seraphic you’d become in just the few days he’d been around you. how undone he became. he was a lost cause the minute you made a jest to him at the dinner table. 
his chest lowered to yours for a better, sweeter, angle and it had you screaming. your nails cut through his back, leaving reddened scratches against his tanned, freckled skin. he loved it. it had his pace quickening, and his hand working harder at your clit. you were close, he could feel it. 
feeling the way you began to tighten around him, how you became barely lucid beneath him. “so good,” you mewled, finding no other words but to praise him. 
“nothing compares,” he groaned, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “you’ll be mine then, yeah?” 
your heart surged in your chest, but your breathing remained the same. you were too fucked out to truly resonate the meaning behind his words. 
“yours, yours,” you repeated over and over until you were sent over the edge. you screamed his name, cutting through the air, cutting through him. he was left a sopping mess with his quivering hips, sloppy pace. you knew he was going to cum, too, when his teeth grinded together, and he let out a guttural moan. it churned your insides, swishing your heart through. 
he came inside of you. you felt it, the heat from his cock. but he made no effort to move. you didn’t want him to. 
the pair of you laid atop one another in his dark room. panting. catching your breaths. in unison your hearts would align. sweaty bodies melting against each other. 
his head was buried deep into your neck, breathing you in. you soothed him, just as much as you riled him to no end. 
“did you mean it?” you asked, voice hoarse. 
lando hummed. 
“about us.” 
you felt his teeth break into a smile against your skin. he raised his head to look at you. “i did.” your breath caught in your throat. “don’t give a shit what max’ll say. we’ll figure it out, won’t we?” 
you nodded in agreement. your brother would simply have to deal with this. he’d get over it in time, you’re sure, and it would be the best for both of you. no longer would you yearn at a distance for a man you thought didn’t spare you a second glance. no longer would you dream of this moment materializing before you. it had become a reality, and there was nothing more that you could be grateful for. 
he wanted you. lando wanted you. and you wanted him the same. it was one of the first times in your life that you felt safe. comforted in a newborn relationship. 
it wasn’t long before lando pulled the covers of his sheets over the two of you, holding you tight as you shifted into the shape of his body. you were a perfect fit, a missing puzzle piece that he’s been searching years for. 
and now you were here, sleeping soundly in his arms. 
lando had found sleep, too, his soft snores carrying through the room. you and him paid no attention to the fact you were sharing a bed. if anyone walked in, then they walked in. you were at peace, and that was enough.
sooner rather than later, the party-goers for the evening arrived home. they attempted their best to be quiet at such an odd hour, and decided to retire. max and chris went out to the balcony, however, and decided for a small chat. 
but before that could even commence, chris noticed a piece of black fabric loose on the patio. he stared at it from above, brows raised.
“mate,” he called max over. he met him at his side. 
“this yours?” he pointed down at it, and his face went ghastly white. no fucking way.
“motherfucker.”
tags ; @landoslutmeout @basicallyric @mybluesoul1 @toriiez @customsbyjcg-blog @sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months
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need you now
in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)
“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”
His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.
You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.
You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.
“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.
“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.
You swallowed it down.
“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.
You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.
“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.
You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.
It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.
When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.
It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.
You think this qualified.
You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.
You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.
You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.
You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.
“Spencer?” You slurred.
He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.
You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.
You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.
“I’m fine.”
Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.
“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.
You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.
“How did you get in?”
“My key.”
“Oh.”
Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.
“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.
“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.
You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.
You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.
“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.
Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.
His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.
“Do you want to talk?”
Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?
“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.
“Okay.”
Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.
“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.
You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.
He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.
“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—
“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.
and—actually, you were fine now.
He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.
He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.
“Whole thing, please.”
You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.
The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.
You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.
“Why did we break up?”
He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.
“I—you know why—“
“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.
Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.
“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?
“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”
Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.
“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“
“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.
“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.
“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”
Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.
“Of course I want to.”
“Okay,”
“Okay.”
He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.
Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.
As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.
You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.
“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”
He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.
“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.
“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”
You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.
“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.
Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.
“Unless you want to, I mean—“
“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.
He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.
You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.
You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.
“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.
“Nothing. You’re pretty.”
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Why?”
“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”
Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.
“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”
You nodded.
“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”
You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.
“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”
You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.
part two!
2K notes · View notes
charliemwrites · 2 months
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Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl
Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)
Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)
Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".
Content: Brandon.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.
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Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.
Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.
That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.
“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 
“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”
“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.
You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 
“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”
He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”
More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.
You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…
“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.
“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”
“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”
You blink. “You are?”
“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”
An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?
“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”
He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.
“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”
Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”
“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”
“Be safe, Ky.”
“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”
You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.
You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?
Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.
But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.
Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.
Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.
Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.
Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)
“Where are you going?”
You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.
“The Hay Festival,” you answer.
Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.
“Alone?”
You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”
The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 
“I need that suitcase.”
You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”
He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”
Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?
You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.
“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.
There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.
“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.
When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.
This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.
“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”
He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”
You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”
That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.
Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.
“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.
“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.
“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”
He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.
Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.
Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…
“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”
Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.
The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.
“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”
He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.
As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.
“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”
You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”
“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”
“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.
“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”
You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”
He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.
“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.
“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.
You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.
“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”
“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”
“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.
You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.
“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.
You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.
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r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.
A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.
A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.
Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.
I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)
Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.
Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.
Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.
I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.
My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.
She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?
I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?
Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.
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boyfhee · 4 months
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✶ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY !
jealously looks good on them
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pairing enhypen x reader / fem reader in hoon's genre fluff warnings kissing in jake's, ignore the typos pleek notes happy reading ^^ requested
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HEESEUNG
you know he's the jealous type just three days after dating him. it's in a fun way— of course. despite being the jealous type he doesn't overdo it ( or at least tries not to. ) you're gushing about your favourite character from a show or a celebrity you like and he's sulking on the inside.
“byeon wooseok is hot but not hotter than me. right, darling?” he would ask the moment he catches you watching the edits of the actor on tiktok. with eyes fixed on you, his lips morph more and more into a pout when you take more than a few seconds to respond. “i can't believe this,”
you watch him sit on the far end of the couch, away from you, refusing to spare you a glance even though you know his attention is on you. “c’mon hee, are you jealous of an actor? he doesn't even know me,”
“well, good for me because with how pretty you are, he will definitely fall for you if he gets to know you,” he replies through a frown, eyeing you through his peripheral gaze, arms crossed. it only makes you laugh at how cute he can be sometimes.
“and i'm in love with you so it doesn't matter,” and he's back to normal, crawling to your side and wrapping his arms around you. you just have to remind him that every time jealousy gets the best of him, even though he already knows it; but he likes to hear you say it. 
JONGSEONG
jay thought it would be cute to ask you out on a little convenience store date until your neighbour's son crashes it. well, not literally since he only happened to be there at the store. however, despite all, being the person he is, he doesn't think much of it.
that is until that guy decides to follow you around throughout the time you two shop. even when you two make it to the counter, he's next to you, talking to you and you're responding nicely, considering he's your neighbour.
“um, we're dating,” he says with an awkward smile when that guy asks if you're single. and jay has always been patient but he grabs the shopping bags and your hand, and walks out of the store with the speed of light.
“you can let go of my hand,” you laugh at the look of pure jealousy on his face. it's not really obvious, but you can see it. you've known him long enough to know how he is when he's jealous.
“nope,” he shakes his head, lacing his fingers with your own while you two are walking back to his place. “not until we're home,”
JAEYUN
he thinks he's being subtle about it but you don't miss the way he keeps scooting closer while you're texting a friend. he's not trying to peek, he's trying to get your attention.
“who even have you been texting for so long?” he asks after a few seconds, sitting lazily next to you on the bed with a faint pout residing on his lips.
“my friend. it's her birthday soon and she wants me to go shopping with her,” you don't even look up at him as you respond, smiling at your phone screen. he stares at you for a brief second before laying down with a slight whine.
“you're leaving me,” his words reach your ears and you turn your head towards him, brows furrowed. “i need to die,”
and the ‘j’ in jake stands for jealousy, it was never a secret. however, you didn't expect him to act like this right now. “jake, it's not that serious,”
“it’s four in the evening and not a single kiss today,” he sits up and says with a dramatic gasp— eyes wide open as if the situation is oh so scandalous. he sighs, putting a hand on his chest, shaking his head. “i'm afraid this is my last day. any last words?”
and you chuckle, putting your phone away before scooting closer to him and cupping his face, pressing his lips against his. “you're so dramatic,” 
SUNGHOON
sunghoon was all up for an evening stroll around the campus after classes but definitely didn't appreciate the transfer student from your class ruin this little date.
subtle glares and his fingers intertwined with yours, and yet that guy couldn't catch a hint. sunghoon knows he's hitting on you, perhaps you do too but knowing how nice you are, you can't be rude when all that guy is doing is complimenting you. so, he'll do it for you— sunghoon is going to eat him up.
"i know, right? my girlfriend is the prettiest girl on earth. and guess what? she's smart as hell— i love my girl. oh you want her number? well, she's mine," all in one breath, followed by an awkward silence and sunghoon's prideful smile. "now, me and my girl have somewhere to be so if you'll excuse us,"
he doesn't even give a chance for your classmate to speak, walking away while bringing you along with him. as funny at it is, you know he wasn't taking any of it.
"was all that necessary?" you ask, fingers still laced with his as you two walked down towards an ice cream parlour.
"what's necessary is for us to get married," he says it in the most casual way, getting you your favourite ice cream flavour and handing it too you. "too many guys looking at you. i can't take the risk,"
SUNOO
"i thought you're no longer in touch with him," sunoo says quietly when you bid your goodbyes to your friend, holding your hand as you two walk back to your class together.
"yeah, but we're classmates so it was unavoidable," you respond with a smile, looking up at him. it only takes you a fraction of the second to notice the troubles expression on his face, behind the smile. "what's wrong?"
your boyfriend shakes his head, the smile getting wider but it's only an attempt to throw you off the topic. "nothing,"
"sunoo," you stand in his way, hands on your waist, looking at him with a cheeky grin. it's not often you catch sunoo with such an expression. "are you jealous?"
"i'm not!" he quickly defends himself, eyes going wide and cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. however he sighs, giving up the very next second. "well, maybe a little. he's your ex after all,"
"he was my friend before we started dating," and you couldn't help but chortle at his actions, nodding as you get back to holding his hand, this time a bit more firmly than earlier. "besides, i have you now,"
"right," he couldn't help but smile at your words and pulls you a bit closer to him, speaking with a triumphant grin. "you're too good for him anyway,"
JUNGWON
jungwon has been watching you for fifteen minutes now, laying on the bed, eyes squinted at you. "do you remember you have a boyfriend?"
"of course, i do. why would i forget that?" you furrow your brows at his question, looking up at him briefly before looking back at your boyfriend's pet dog.
"i don't know, seems like you did," he sighs, getting off the bed and sitting next to you on the floor, looking at his pet dog. "i called you over to spend time with you. not to watch you play with maeumi,"
and you laugh, caressing maeumi in your lap while looking at your boyfriend with a teasing grin. "i can't believe you're jealous of your own dog,"
"and what if i am?"
"it's a bit silly," you nod, the smile never leaving your face. "it's cute," his eyes follow your actions as you lean down to plant a soft kiss on maeumi's head and then lifting him up slightly. "but can you really ignore this cutie?"
and that was the end of his patience. jungwon gets up, picking maeumi before putting him away in the living room. "yeah, he's going up for adoption,"
"jungwon!"
RIKI
"he's so ugly," riki comments bitterly as you walk out of your class, eyeing one of the classmates you've been talking to while he was waiting for you in the hallways. "what a creature,"
"creature?" you repeat his words in disbelief, even though it's not really unusual for him to say that. "riki, that's my classmate. he was giving me yesterday's notes,"
"yeah, he's still ugly," he shakes his head, scoffing, grabbing one of your hands while sliding the other in the pocket of his pants.
you simply laugh at his words as you both get downstairs, a few students passing by you two, rushing towards the school exit. "you look stupid when you're jealous,"
"jealous? me?" he scoffs yet again, a prideful grin on his face as he stops in his tracks, looking at you. "you have quite an imagination,"
"what i have is a jealous boyfriend who sucks at lying,"
and who even is he kidding, because both of you know he's the more jealous one between the two of you. about the lying part. . .he's not too sure. "well, at least i look better than him, don't i?"
you nod, tip toeing slightly to kiss his cheeks, still holding his hands in the process. "the best,"
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blkkizzat · 1 year
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ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎
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Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader
18+ Minors - DNI
Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.
A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.
Enjoy!
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Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 
He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 
Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 
Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 
Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 
Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 
Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.
But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 
Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?
At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.
It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 
More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.
Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.
You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 
When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 
Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 
Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.
Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.
You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.
You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.
You stop dead in your tracks.
Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 
No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!
But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 
“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 
Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.
A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.
“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 
You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.
“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.
You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.
You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.
It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 
Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.
Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.
Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 
You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.
Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 
“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.
"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”
You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 
But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 
Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.
Was he also into this?
The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.
Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.
“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”
He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 
“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.
“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 
“Lost your words, Y/N?”
Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.
“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”
Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.
“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”
You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.
He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.
Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.
Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 
“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”
You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.
“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.
“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”
His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.
“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”
You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.
The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 
“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 
Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.
To your relief there was no one in sight.
Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.
“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 
Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.
Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 
“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 
Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.
ꨄ 
“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 
You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.
You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 
Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 
Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.
Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  
The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 
“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”
You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.
“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”
If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 
His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.
“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”
“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”
The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.
“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 
You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.
“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 
There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 
You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.
“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”
“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”
You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 
“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 
The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 
“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”
He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.
You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 
“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”
Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.
His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.
You were so close to release.
“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.
“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”
Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.
You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.
“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”
You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.
Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.
The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 
Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.
The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.
Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.
“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”
"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.
You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.
But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 
“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.
Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 
You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.
"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."
The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 
Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 
“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.
“Warm bath, yeah?”
“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”
You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 
You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.
Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.
You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!
You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 
However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 
Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.
“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”
Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 
You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 
Could there ever be too much of a good thing?
You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.
“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.
”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”
However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.
You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.
Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.
This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎
Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!
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4K notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 1 year
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kiss it better | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x first responder!reader when oscar crashes into the barrier at monza, he thinks he sees his guardian angel, in reality he's just got a concussion and that's a first responder, but it's the thought that counts.
f1
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liked by arthurleclerc, liamlawson and 1,206,700 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
f1: woah. huge shunt for oscar piastri in turn three. the australian was pulled out of the car by first responders and is getting treatment. red flag for now.
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user1: omg like my breath was completely gone, i hope oscar is okay
user2: holy shit that's the worst crash i've ever seen i'm so glad they aren't replaying it
user3: i tuned in late and i knew as soon as they didn't replay it it had to be bad
user4: thank the lord for the first responders, they were so fast i hope oscar is good
user5: i'm gonna need netflix to take the backseat on this one i can't take the dramatic editing this is already stressful enough
user6: the grosjean crash was bad enough, i can't deal with it with oscar
user7: are there any updates yet?
user8: not yet.
user9: i'm sat in the grandstand right where this was and it was literally so scary, the first responders literally had to jump on the car
user10: so so lucky that they were stationed so close to where he crashed
oscarpiastri
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tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: first of all i'd like to thank everyone for their support and well wishes, i really appreciate it. it's actually thanks to y/n and the rest of the first responders that i'm back on my feet as fast as i am. big thank you to y/n for sacrificing her ability to shower comfortably to help me out of the car and avoid the flames, i am eternally grateful and mama piastri would like you over for dinner to thank you.
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user9: i'm so so happy he's okay, that crash was so scary
landonorris: glad to hear you're okay mate !
oscarpiastri: you can't get rid of me that easily norris
landonorris: woah, no joking about dying when you've only been discharged for 24 hours
oscarpiastri: sorry, skipped over that one in my contract
danielricciardo: make sure you always read that mclaren contract carefully
user11: thank you y/n for your service
user12: for real she put her leg on the line for oscar she needs a raise
yourusername: it was my pleasure to do my job and help you out oscar. and i'll always take up an offer for a mum's dinner
oscarpiastri: she'll be very happy to hear that
yourusername: text me the details and i'll be there
user13: it's so crazy to me how f1 drivers just get up and walk out of crashes like that
user14: no for real how is the medic more injured than him 😭
logansargent: you are so lucky there were no cameras when you were on painkillers cause you were talking some shit
oscarpiastri: please don't remind me
logansargent: just because there weren't cameras in the room doesn't mean i didn't record you, i look forward to my birthday present this year
oscarpiastri: you wouldn't
logansargent: you wanna bet?
user15: so like how bad do we think what oscar said was?
user16: and how much do we need to pay logan to release it?
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mclaren
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 609,778 others
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri & yourusername
mclaren: after her heroics in the first half of the season, y/n finally took oscar up and is a guest of mclaren this weekend. as a medic, y/n is one of the most important aspects of a race weekend, and it's an honour to host her!
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user17: did oscar write this caption? that man was BLUSHING in the fan questions video
user18: awwww mama piastri is also there this weekend and in a load of the pictures in the paddock they stuck together
oscarpiastri: so happy to see you again y/n !!
yourusername: my pleasure, oscar. racing is a lot more fun from the garage
oscarpiastri: i'll try my best not to crash this time, i know my favourite medic isn't on duty
yourusername: oh wow what a title, i'll wear it with pride
user19: they're such dorks i love them so much
landonorris: can someone get me some popcorn, i'm enjoying watching oscar squirm and blush all weekend
oscarpiastri: i am NOT !!
landonorris: don't worry i'm sure y/n finds it cute
oscarpiastri: can you please STOP !!
yourusername: not to prove lando right but it is very cute
user20: lando is taking his big brother role a bit too far
alexalbon: you were right @logansargent this is fun to watch
logansargent: oh just you wait until you find out the stuff he was saying in hospital
oscarpiastri: please stop telling people
alexalbon: from what i heard she was right there @yourusername what did he say logan is being a good friend (for now)
yourusername: considering i literally fried my leg getting him out i don't remember most of that day
alexalbon: UGH you people are no help
yourusername: ???
oscarpiastri: ???
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,560 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: no pulling this one out of a burning wreck this weekend 👍
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user21: omg oscar's smile ??? i am faint
landonorris: do i mean nothing to you?
yourusername: i am literally oscar's guest let me rep him in peace
landonorris: booooooo if you're going to wear his number might as well ask him out while you're at it
yourusername: mind your business, i know what i'm doing
user22: Y/N?????????
oscarpiastri: i see you know my angles already, can you come every weekend?
yourusername: i'd love to but i have a lil thing called a job :(
oscarpiastri: boring, can't you be my full time personal photographer?
landonorris: and his girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: do you mind?
landonorris: what? i'm just trying to help
oscarpiastri: you are MEDDLING
yourusername: you guys done?
oscarpiastri: yes
landonorris: NO
user23: lando is a no 1 y/n x oscar shipper he's so real
user24: y/n is so much stronger than me i'd hand in my notice right this second
yourusername: believe me i would if i could
landonorris: to both options?
oscarpiastri: LANDO STOP
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 19,056 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: happy to be your guardian angel baby x
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user29: new f1 parents just entered the chat
landonorris: i'm taking responsibility for this happening, you’re welcome
yourusername: stop right there buddy, this was all ME
oscarpiastri: nuh uh it was ME
yourusername: i asked YOU out?
oscarpiastri: technically yes, but i asked you to dinner first
yourusername: actually, if i remember correctly that was your mum
oscarpiastri: FINE you asked me out and i'm very glad you did and you ARE my guardian angel and you ARE way out of my league
landonorris: you said it i didn't
oscarpiastri: LANDO LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE YOU NUISANCE
landonorris: woah, you've changed bro
yourusername: are we finished boys?
landonorris: yes, and for real i am very happy for you guys
user30: lando saying he made this happen is the most lando thing ever
logansargent: can you tell him to stop ignoring me now?
yourusername: soz under strict rules not to fraternize with a traitor
logansargent: I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T HANDLE SPICE
user31: at least logan is self-aware
oscarpiastri
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liked by aussiegrit, yourusername and 702,443 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: sometimes all you need to do is flip an f1 car into a barrier and burst into flames to meet the love of your life (and give her third degree burns)
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user32: OSCAR WITH A BACKWARDS CAP TEACHING HER TENNIS SOMEONE CALL 911 I AM NOT OKAY
landonorris: okay we get it now you guys are cute
yourusername: for someone who was 'the reason we got together' you've changed your tune
landonorris: yes i am glad you have each other but that doesn't change the fact that i am LONELY and don't need to see gross couple stuff
oscarpiastri: you poor baby
landonorris: NO SYMPATHY?
oscarpiastri: i'm gonna cite all of your tomfoolery in the other comment sections
landonorris: okay fair
user33: okay but can we promise to never have a crash like that again?
yourusername: agreed
aussiegrit: happy for you kid
oscarpiastri: thank you mark :)
yourusername: so this is mark... hi?
aussiegrit: don't worry i've heard nothing but wonderful things about you, i look forward to meeting you at the next race
user34: y/n already has all of the approval oh wow
yourusername: i love you dummy (never do that again or i'll never talk to you again)
oscarpiastri: you got it, wins only from now on 🫡
yourusername: ur the champion in my heart
oscarpiastri: 🧡 🧡 🧡
logansargaent
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 304,788 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
logansargeant: public shaming is good sometimes. though now i third wheel with only a fish by my side
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user35: i am SCREAMING
yourusername: oh florida boy, your time will come (don't put that fish pic on your tinder, i know you want to)
logansargeant: girls love fish?
yourusername: trust me they don't
logansargeant: is this just because oscar is bad at fishing?
yourusername: DELETE IT FROM YOUR TINDER PROFILE NOW OR THIRD WHEEL FOREVER
user36: what is going on here?
alexalbon: god logan this is tragic, how did you expose him and end up with a fish as your date
logansargeant: but is the size of the fish not impressive?
alexalbon: no, take y/n's advice
oscarpiastri: fine, you're forgiven. only because y/n found it cute, if she found it weird it would be you found at the bottom of a lake
logansargeant: ???????????? there was a chilli oscar
oscarpiastri: stop hiding behind your american passport, i'd eat that chilli for you
logansargeant: but it all worked out?
oscarpiastri: thankfully for you
yourusername: is it bad that this is kinda sexy?
logansargeant: he threatened to murder me?
yourusername: he's so protective 🫶
oscarpiastri: hehehehe thanks babe x
logansargeant: i give up.
note: WOAH two in one night? i am on a roll. anyhow, do enjoy, i love oscar so much so glad he extended !! xx
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