#few things have hit me harder lately
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loborundas · 5 months ago
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Me, being 13: i sure have loved playing metroid prime 3, and that sylux teaser? Oh boy! I can't wait to see what happens next!
Me, being 30:
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pandora15 · 10 months ago
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I’ve had a lot of people I just met asking me things like “what is your dream?” or “what do you hope for this year?” And I can’t bring myself to answer the question honestly to them because the answer is “I just want my friend to come back.”
But she won’t.
And I don’t want to go into it and explain why the past few months have been so hard, especially to people I literally just met two weeks ago. I also don’t want to bring down the mood so much, even though every little thing I do or see reminds me of her. Every single day, something causes my breath to catch, and I just see her — in the green of the leaves, the coolness of the wind, the hint of a smile on another person’s face.
I just want her to come back, so even when I’m being asked to talk about my dreams, I already know they’re impossible.
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bi-writes · 1 month ago
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Ooo ooo ooo know what I think Simon in MOB would love?? a fashion show after he picks up his girl from shopping. I mean she seems like the kinda of girl to show off what she got, cuz simply she’s just so excited and he’s just so grateful for a show from his little love
mail-order bride (18+)
it's always raining lately. the weather has been cooling as the winter months get closer, and the rain has been a constant reminder of the days coming that would be spent inside.
simon didn't mind spending time inside. he liked being inside, in his house, away from others. when he was home, it was just you there. thing 1 and thing 2 occasionally appear, but it's you that takes up the space in the kitchen watching your dough rise impatiently, you that takes up that corner spot on the couch with your favorite knit blanket with a terrible movie on. the sight of that, he'll never get over it--he'll never get used to the pretty girl that lives in his house and wears his ring and sleeps in his bed and says his last name when they ask her, "your name, ma'am?"
his phone buzzes in his pocket as he ducks his head to get into his truck. he pulls it out, sighing, starting up the car when he reads your message.
all done! waiting at the corner.
when he turns onto the main street, he sees you standing at the corner with your umbrella, waving at him with a big smile. he can't help the one that blooms under his mask; fuck, he's beaming whenever he looks at you.
he puts the car in park, coming out to greet you. you hop on your toes as he comes around the car, and he dips his head under the umbrella as you stand high on your toes and kiss him over his mask.
"simon--"
"missed ya."
"it's only been a few hours--"
"'s too cold ta be out 'ere, baby, let's get ya inside."
you hum as he smooths his hands over your jaw, giving you another kiss through the mask before picking up the shopping bags that you're holding. he takes the umbrella from you, holding it as he guides you off the curb and into the passenger side of the car. he smacks your ass gently as you hop up, and you squeak when you sit down, giggling as you push at his chest.
"simon!"
"wot? wot did i do?"
"you're a dog, i swear."
"dunno wot y'mean, baby, tha's my wife in my car, and she looks bloody lovely."
you bite your lip, shaking your head.
"get in the car, simon, jeez..." you whisper, but your mind is running, and simon is looking way too good in this leather bomber jacket get-up he decided to pull out today. fuck, his arms have never looked so big, have they? has he been working out more?
just as he leans in for more, you put a hand on his chest, smiling down at him.
"slow, down, simon..." you touch your nose to his. "i got a surprise for you. let's go home, hmm?"
simon always skirts over the speed-limit, but you hold his hand extra tight as he swerves a little more than usual on the way home.
when you make it inside the warmth of your house, simon helps you take your jacket and boots off, hanging everything by the door and ripping his mask off so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck and kiss you there, his words muffled as he tries to talk between kisses, as if not kissing you might deprive him of something as necessary as breath.
"wot's the surprise?" he whispers, and you turn around to face him, giggling as he cups your cheeks and kisses you firmly, on the mouth, feverish and eager. "taste like chocolate, buy some sweets while ya were out, did ya?"
"simon--"
"fuckin' hell, don't say my name like tha'," simon groans, backing you up until you hit the wall with a gentle thud. his hand slips into your hair to cushion it, his hand taking the weight of the wall as he kisses you again, harder this time. "so pretty, tell me--"
"simon!" you laugh, "just go sit down...sit, you're so impatient--"
he can't sit still. his knee is bouncing as he sits on the couch, and he sucks on his teeth as he watches the door of your bedroom. it's closed, and he can hear you moving around behind it. a few moments later, you open the door just slightly, poking your head out with a sheepish smile.
"ready, simon?"
"fuckin' hell, ready since the day i was born."
you swing open the door, bouncing into the living room. simon raises his fist to his mouth, biting on it, and he curses under his breath when he sees you wearing the most adorable dress he's ever seen.
it won't see the light of day for a few months since it's nearing winter, but you could wear it at home all you like (he hopes you wear it every fucking day).
it's cherry red. big fluffy skirt, made up of many layers. it's made of linen, with a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves, and it is perfectly tailored to you. simon closes his eyes for a moment, fuckin' get it together, mate, and when he opens them again, you're standing there in the living room, very sheepish, hands behind your back.
"do...do you like it?" you ask. "i...they had this dress there when i went a couple weeks ago, but none of them fit, so i...i asked if we could take my measurements, and..."
"jesus fuckin' christ," simon breathes, leaning his head back against the couch. "baby, please stop talkin'. just for a minute, olright?"
"oh...okay."
simon takes a deep breath. he raises his palms to his eyes, and he rubs them hard. he keeps his eyes closed as he shifts his hips, smoothing a big palm down his stomach before taking a look at you again. he groans a little when he sees you again, standing there all shy, timid, nervous.
"give me a spin, luv," simon murmurs. you take the hem of your skirt and do a small twirl for him, spinning on your toes in the living room. simon clenches his jaw as he watches the skirt flutter a little, the layers underneath swishing and then falling over your thighs again. simon adores a good skirt; it's his favorite thing in the world to put his hands up them, to fondle the lace or cotton of your panties underneath it, to watch your chest rise and fall in panting breaths when he takes you apart with his fingers. he's in love with the way your breasts will fill the neckline of your dress, practically spill over when you bend at the hip and present yourself for him.
christ, he needs to fuck you.
simon cups himself through his jeans, and he relishes in the way your eyes widen. he unbuckles his belt, popping the button and shoving his jeans down until they sit just low enough that he can take himself out. your knees buckle a little as you watch him, your lips parting as you stare at the way he spits into his hand and spreads his wet palm over the tip of him.
"simon," you whisper, your hands wringing together as he tilts his head to the side and smooths his hand down his length. he grunts, shaking his head.
"pull y'r dress down," he murmurs, and you grow warm all over. your toes curl a bit; he's so big, tip nice and wet and pink. the girth of him shocks you, but it's always felt so nice in your mouth. you know how good it'll feel inside you, when you sit on him finally, when he-- "pull it down, baby."
you swallow hard, slipping the sleeves down your shoulders a little. you push it down just a little, just until your tits fall over the neckline and spill out. simon groans loud, his hand moving just a little faster, his head shaking a little more.
"come 'ere, baby," he says lowly, patting his lap. "come 'ere, let me put my mouth on ya."
you walk over shakily, making your way to him. you put your hands on the back of the couch before you settle with both knees on either side of him. as soon as your tits dangle in his face, he's leaning up and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you gasp, arching your back, and even with your skirt covering your laps, you can still hear the wet slap, slap, slap of simon's wet palm frantically pumping his cock.
"fuck--fuck," simon croaks, letting your go. there's a bit of drool pooling along the side of his mouth, and he swallows it down before nodding towards you. "sit back, sweet'art, let me see--"
you put one palm on his knee, leaning back, and use your other hand to gather up your skirt and lift it. simon sucks on his teeth as he sees your cunt, wet panties sticking to it, and he moves his hand a little faster.
"please cum, simon," you beg, your fingers pushing your panties aside. his face falters a little, his hand moving just a little sloppier, and you whimper. "please--please give it to me--"
he lets out a low breath as he cums, aiming at your cunt and watching as he paints your folds. you use your fingers to spread it, dipping your fingers inside yourself with a whine before moving them against your clit gently. simon uses his other hand to grip your hip, drawing you just close enough that he can smooth his cock through your folds, spreading your slick and his own cum and making a mess between your thighs. he chuckles, hearing you cry out, and you meet his eyes with tears.
"just the tip," you beg, moving your fingers along your clit faster. simon grins, so mean, licking his lips. he makes no move to help you, but he doesn't put himself back in his pants, either. "simon, j-just the tip--c-can i have just the tip?"
"oh, just the tip, luvvie?" simon murmurs. "think ya can take it? just tha'?"
"please--!"
your fingers are in a frenzy. it's so close, you can feel it, that beautiful mountain, you're climbing it, clawing your way up, and you just need a little more.
"simon!"
you nearly fall backwards. if it wasn't for his hand gripping your hip, you would've, but he catches you easily, his brows furrowing together as the tip of him slips inside of you nice and easy. your hips jerk a bit, rolling as you use just that much of him inside of you to bring yourself closer and closer and closer--
"fuck," simon breathes when he feels you cum. you tighten, sucking him in just a little more as you spill around him. globs of sticky slick pool along his cock, and you use a shaky hand to grip him gently and keep him there. even with just the tip, it feels so nice to be connected to him, to have him inside you, even just a little. your brain feels fuzzy and warm, your legs feeling blissfully weak as your spine melts a little into his hand just enough. he leans you forward until you're resting on his chest, and you squeak when he slips out of you. simon wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close, and your eyes flutter shut as you mouth at his neck absentmindedly.
"can't wait for it," you whisper against his skin. he's hot there, a little sweaty, and you lick timidly up his jaw to taste him. he grips your hair tight, smiling, and he pulls you back just a little so he can look into your eyes.
"and wot are y'gonna wear when i finally have ya, aye?"
you smile back, giggling soft.
"absolutely nothing, of course."
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rqnarok · 21 days ago
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old man!logan obsessing over his pregnant wifey
headcanons - cws/tags: smut! mdni. breeding kink. lactation kink. pregnant sex. dom/sub dynamics.
a/n: okie a lot of u asked for a part two of this blurb, here ya’ go my loves! <3
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Logan Howlett used to think he wouldn’t be a good father. Hell, with that temper and attitude? He was sure he’d be the worst one. 
But you don’t seem to agree with him on many things—especially his self-destructive thoughts. I mean, that’s why you let him knock you up in the first place. You’d grin seeing your belly round and full of his babe, tits plump and leaking.
You are too beautiful to behold, “My pretty fuckin’ wife.” A sight that has Logan’s libido reaching its peak, the ones he thought he was not capable of anymore as an old man. 
Yet here he is, dick hard and balls full each time he sees you. 
Shit. You look so soft, walking around the house barefoot and swollen with his offspring. A sick and possessive side of him loves knowing that when you are out in public, it’s apparent that you’re taken by him, carrying his child. 
Pregnancy grants you a restless glow that makes it harder for him to say no to you. “W-wan’ you, please, Lo—” When you beg him to stuff you up full, who is he to deny his wife? Deny the mother of his child? 
He turns into a madman at how your leaking tits bounce up and down when you ride his girth, at how your breasts seem to look when you wear those tight tops, at how your nipples are poking all the damn time, and at how you are hornier than ever.
Yeah, he caught you hiding under the sheets rubbing your swollen clit and fingers deep in your own dripping cunt with his name rolling off your tongue — thinking he’s still doing his late night shift. 
He fucks you as much as he can, the positions getting more and more adapted as your stomach grows, sometimes filthier than ever, “Put your legs up here, baby. Can’t have ya’ sore now, can we?”
His favorite position is still you on your back, thighs spread apart, and belly full on display. “Ya’ got me so fuckin’ hard, pretty.” He doesn’t give a damn that his aging body feels aching—he could watch this for hours. Your face contorted with pleasure as his fat cock thrusts in and out. 
Oh, Logan’s nasty. He says he tries to ‘relieve’ your pain by sucking at your sensitive, leaking nipples while plunging his cock inside of you. “Mhm, such a sweet wife for your old man.” Pumping your full womb while he laps at your milk. 
The almost 200-year-old man believes he has gained stamina—now that he has more responsibility. He’s always ready to load you up for days on end. And that’s exactly what he’ll do for the next few weeks. Molding his cock inside you before sex starts to get all too much for his pregnant wifey. 
Logan’s a natural caretaker. It shows when you’re hitting the post-orgasm soreness and barely do anything except breathe heavily. He never forgets to show his affection, scratching his scruffy grey beard on your neck before softly kneading sensitive parts of your body. 
“Let’s get ya’ cleaned up, mama.”
A bad father? Logan Howlett buried all of his dictionaries and named you his language. 
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fairene · 5 months ago
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one of your girls / ln4, part two
lando norrisxfem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
part one
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a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.
wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)
he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something. 
things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–
each other. 
and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake. 
it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely. 
but not for him. 
he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it. 
but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts. 
the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough. 
you did this to yourself. 
but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl. 
his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late. 
“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him. 
‘you’re too sweet,’ 
too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.
his favorite girl. his girl. 
“she’s here.” 
what? 
lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you. 
“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story. 
you looked…
happy. 
he…
he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you. 
lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend. 
barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon. 
gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways. 
you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up. 
rebecca stared at you expectedly. 
“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?” 
rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.” 
him? him? oh, fuck, here we go. 
as much as you wanted  to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing. 
you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile. 
but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed. 
he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael. 
“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”
“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?” 
he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend. 
the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you. 
did you expect him to? 
you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe. 
as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out. 
“uh oh.” 
the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle. 
you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would. 
lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty. 
but he didn’t stop to look at you. 
you didn’t either. 
but your hands–
god your hands
they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t. 
if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open. 
you dared him to.
but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret. 
fuck him.
you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t. 
“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking. 
“nothing.” 
and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage. 
it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.
you had thought about it. you really did. 
but you couldn’t. 
you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you. 
you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room. 
lando
you hesitated. 
suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath. 
“what?” 
your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.
“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue. 
“neither did i.” 
that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”
you were confused by the question. “yes.” 
“can i see you?” 
his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
you could practically feel him wince through the phone. 
“please.”
fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing. 
“okay.”
lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?” 
“610.”
he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night. 
your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–
there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts. 
you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take. 
he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver. 
he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time. 
lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him. 
“did you run here?”
lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you. 
you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep. 
you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt. 
“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat. 
“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that. 
“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.” 
his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his. 
“like what?”
you scoffed. 
“like you’re in love with me.” 
ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs. 
“i wanted to see you.” 
“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?” 
lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say. 
“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems. 
“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.” 
“lando, what–”
“i’m sorry.” 
huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world. 
“what–?”
“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer. 
“why now?”
he perked up, wondering what you meant. 
“why, now, are you sorry?” 
he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a  vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share. 
“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices. 
lando began to shake his head. “no, no–” 
“really?”
you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment. 
“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well. 
“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath. 
you felt his hands tense against your hips. 
“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.
your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft. 
he was confused. again. 
“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips. 
“one of your girls.”
you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.
“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.” 
“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances. 
“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same. 
lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.” 
lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he? 
he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth. 
“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him. 
your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder. 
he wiped the tears from your cheeks. 
“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.” 
you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head. 
“you have to.” 
lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem. 
he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated. 
you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs. 
little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true. 
you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one. 
when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.
you thought he was going to kiss you. 
but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own. 
your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too. 
in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.
she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles. 
you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.
you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing. 
it couldn’t be for nothing. 
when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview. 
“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.” 
she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?” 
you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you. 
“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael. 
you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her. 
raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck. 
fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble. 
you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him. 
it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you? 
or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get. 
the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.
he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life. 
you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it. 
“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away. 
but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.
“fine.” 
that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness. 
but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot. 
you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.
finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare. 
lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back. 
lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you. 
but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns. 
“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers? 
you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this. 
it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place. 
the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough. 
and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–
you hated it. 
you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…
raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable. 
and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando. 
he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated. 
you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes. 
you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs. 
after another minute of this, you were fed up. 
you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking. 
you deserved an oscar. 
“didn’t think i was that good.” 
an egot, maybe. 
you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you. 
your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going. 
and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue. 
he thought you came. 
fuck!
“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing. 
he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure. 
he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there. 
the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face. 
with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.” 
he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”
you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack. 
your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.
you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long. 
when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone. 
no messages from lando. 
did you expect any?
maybe. 
you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking. 
ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…
no answer. 
you left a voicemail.
“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.” 
and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen. 
but with your whimsy, came a price.
lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. 
then the voicemail came.
he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you. 
especially an ‘i miss you.’ 
and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you. 
he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.
with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.
your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you. 
a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears. 
‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls. 
you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.” 
your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.
and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you. 
he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul. 
you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength. 
the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all. 
clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words. 
‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate? 
you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear. 
but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did. 
when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified. 
littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water. 
your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear. 
a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you. 
you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.
though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers. 
he slipped through your fingers. 
you shut the door. 
lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him. 
but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.
all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.
in love
he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love? 
anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit. 
he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall. 
it rang twice before he heard the line connect. 
“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?” 
“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach. 
“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning. 
“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him. 
 but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?” 
“you called me.” 
shit. 
if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it. 
“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…” 
your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks. 
“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it? 
“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing. 
“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?” 
there was a pause. 
“yeah. yeah. something dumb.” 
there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.
“i’ll see you there?” 
you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it. 
“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.” 
you smiled. he could feel it. 
“okay. bye, then.” 
he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming. 
it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face. 
just a bright smile. 
your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug. 
you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow. 
“so…!?” 
you narrowed your eyes. 
“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.” 
you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways. 
“awful.” 
she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.” 
“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything. 
“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?” 
him. the inevitable. 
you swallowed. 
and nodded your head.
alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day. 
before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.
ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare. 
lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.
he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything. 
lando did too. 
but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker. 
you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.
your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away. 
it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face. 
you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers. 
but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.
you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless. 
and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart. 
it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had. 
lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers. 
“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood. 
little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten. 
“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.
“fine.” 
he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here. 
you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.
you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string. 
and you didn’t even go to his podium.
he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife. 
but he fears he lost you. 
the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display. 
did you come? 
no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–
she didn’t. you couldn’t. 
the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most. 
it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory. 
the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch. 
but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat. 
you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie. 
alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached. 
no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers. 
it didn’t take you long.
but you wish that it did. 
he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco. 
another one of his girls. 
your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl? 
your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave. 
neither did you. 
the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his. 
lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another. 
fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play. 
you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand. 
“dance with me?” 
raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness. 
but the thought left just as quickly as it came. 
your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted. 
not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face. 
his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck. 
you were just one of his girls. 
this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest. 
you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress. 
a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room. 
your lips puckered. 
lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down. 
lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room. 
you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand. 
raphael took the bait. 
his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now. 
your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan. 
lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth? 
the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree. 
his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy. 
the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–
except you would. 
this was war, wasn’t it? 
watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;
him, fucking you.
or, him leaving. 
you much preferred the latter. 
with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you. 
raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one. 
“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again. 
“i’m serious. i want–” 
“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.
you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms. 
raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?” 
lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”
raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”
“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another. 
he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest. 
his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant. 
“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand. 
“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”
his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.” 
you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?” 
his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin. 
“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”
“you let him kiss you.” 
you froze. 
“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face. 
“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?” 
you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh. 
“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.” 
you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill. 
“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.” 
“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics. 
“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours. 
“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks. 
“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair. 
“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–” 
with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it? 
“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”
you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him. 
“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”
your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice. 
a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you. 
his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk. 
“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.” 
he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much. 
your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.
you knew what he wanted. 
you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.
“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality. 
lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle. 
“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly. 
“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection. 
your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise. 
“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat. 
“what was that?” 
you whimpered. “missed you!”
“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give. 
“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.” 
your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven. 
you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would. 
the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night. 
the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared. 
“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed. 
“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might. 
“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers. 
you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!” 
his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure. 
it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else. 
lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion. 
“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”
you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more. 
“you’re the only girl.” 
you turned fully this time to face him. 
“what?”
“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words. 
“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”
lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly. 
“what do you want, then?” 
your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed. 
“i need you.” 
need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you. 
his face upturned into a smile. 
“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline. 
“lando…”
he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.” 
your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you. 
and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him. 
his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure. 
you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit. 
there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up. 
“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough. 
“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.
“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time. 
your brows upturned. “i love you too.” 
his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?” 
you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded. 
he was happy enough with that answer. 
“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you. 
“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.” 
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stevesherdaddynowlover · 4 months ago
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pet names and looped pinkies [s.h.] 18+
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hiiiii so i've never written for steve but just did a stranger things rewatch and have felt...inspired. i hope you enjoy! pls feel free to send suggestions or concepts or anything :) thanks for reading!
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summary: steve is your best friend and you have a crush on him and that's fine until one day it's not and the next thing you know you can't think or speak or breathe around him. (steve harrington x fem!reader)
warnings: loooots of pet names, fluff, pining,cursing, kissing, m masturbation, dirty talk, handjob, spitting, tiny bit of cum eating :))) 18+ ONLY!! MDNI
wc: 6.4k
part 2 here!!!!
You and Steve had been friends for quite some time now. 
Going from quietly watching him throughout high school, maybe quietly crushing on him too, to fighting monsters and trying to survive could do that to people. Make them friends, that is. 
The crush you’d been harboring on Steve didn’t go away, oh no if anything it had gotten about ten times worse in the time you’d spent growing close. That Steve you knew in high school was long gone. The, for lack of a better word, asshat you had come to blush over had turned into a protector. A funny, endearing, unnervingly hot protector that made your tummy flutter and your palms sweat. 
It didn’t help that he seemed completely unaware of your feelings, or that the things he did made your heart race and your cheeks turn pink. Linking his pinky with yours while you strolled around town, letting his thumb mindlessly rub circles on the little sliver of your stomach that was visible during movie night, giving a little tug on your hair when you said something cheeky, letting his dimple pop out when you teased him. 
And the pet names. God, the pet names! Maybe he did know! Maybe he wanted to torture you and make you squirm. They slipped from those perfect pink lips so effortlessly it kind of pissed you off. 
“Hey honey, how was work today?” 
“Sweetheart we’re gonna be late for the movie and I will not be blamed when we don’t have time to grab your snacks.” 
“Any chance you wanna pick up an extra shift and spend some time with me? What do you say, pretty?” 
He had the hair, the smile, the charm. You imagined it would be hard for anyone not to fall madly in love with him. It was surely hard for you! Steve did a good job of turning you to mush. It was hard to think around him, even harder to not think about him. 
Which is why you’re really struggling now, smushed on a far too little couch with 3 other people, your thigh pressed so tightly against Steve’s it’s making your head spin. It’s movie night, a tradition you’ve picked up and held onto tightly amidst all the craziness that happens in your small town. Steve is on your left, stuck between the arm of the couch and you. Robin is on your right with Eddie next to her and Jonathon next to him. A couch meant for 2, maybe 3, but all 4 of you packed on while the rest of your friends lounge on the floor or a chair, eyes all focused on the screen. 
Almost everyone’s eyes are focused on the screen. 
You’re staring straight ahead, sure! But while a movie that you now can’t even remember the name of is droning on, all you can think of is how your hip is touching Steve’s. Or how his pinky has somehow found yours again and they’re looped together on his lap. Or even worse, how he’s got his head resting on your shoulder and you can feel little puffs of his breath hitting your neck everytime he laughs. 
It’s driving you crazy, your hand not in his twitching by your side and your chest rising and falling a little faster than it should be while watching a comedy with your friends. You’re so distracted it takes you a few minutes to realize that Steve is no longer watching the movie, but is now focused on you and how uncomfortable you seem to be. He gives a small tug to your pinky, drawing your eyes to meet his and you’re so overwhelmed with him right now you could cry at the furrow in his brow and the small pout he’s wearing looking at you. 
“Y’alright, baby?” You can see his genuine concern at the state of you but all you can focus on is trying not to let a small whimper through your lips as you hear him call you baby. Not being able to look at him for more than a few seconds you drag your eyes away from him, a small huff leaving you while you shake your head, mainly at yourself. “I, uh m’fine. I’m fine.” Neither of you are convinced, you know that, but you can’t find it in you to care at the moment when all you can think about is taking his bottom lip between your teeth. 
He studies you once more, eyes taking you in quickly as he reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers around your neck a second longer, two fingers giving you a little pinch before he’s drawing his hand back to his lap. You find yourself staring far too long at his hand, wondering what it would feel like if he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. Or if it would be as good as you imagined to have him slip that same thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, wearing that same smirk you’ve seen a thousand times.
Fuck fuck fuck. You’re so fucked. 
As soon as the thoughts come, they’re gone because the next thing you know you’re using his and Robin’s thighs as leverage to jump up from the couch, turning to face everyone with red cheeks and a forced smile. 
“So I, uh, I gotta go! Just remembered mom wanted me home early tonight, some, uh, some family thing going on. Yeah that’s it. Family thing!” Everyone is staring, eyes wide with confusion written all over their faces. You love movie night, never miss it let alone leave early. 
You don’t give anyone the chance to question you before you’re bouncing up the stairs trying to pull your shoes on as quickly as possible. You know he’ll be right behind you, asking you what’s wrong or offering a ride home. You both know you’re full of shit but you can’t find it in you to care right now, too focused on getting away from him before you do something crazy like kiss him. 
Steps away from the front door you think you’ve made it. Can almost feel the relief of the cool breeze cooling down your skin that seems to be burning up from where Steve was touching you. You're so close, less than a foot away when you realize you weren’t quick enough. 
A hand wraps around your forearm, a large calloused hand that you’d know anywhere. Shoulders slumped in defeat and you turn to face him, not all the way because you don’t think you could handle it, but enough to acknowledge his presence. “Harrington, I gotta go. You know how my mom is, this’ll be held over my head for weeks if I’m late.” Lies. All lies. Your mom fully expects you to sleep at Robins tonight. He’s quiet for what feels like hours but is really only seconds before he speaks, “Let me give you a ride then. You’ll be home in less than 5.”
Now you know that cannot happen. You cannot be in his car that smells like him. You cannot watch the way his hands grip the wheel, and you know you won’t be able to look away. You cannot be locked in a car with him where you know he’ll try and figure out why you’ve been acting so weird tonight. And honestly you just cannot be around him right now without feeling like you’re going to faint. 
“No, no, don't worry about it, it’s a quick walk and I could use the fresh air! I’m feeling a little…off right now anyways so I wouldn’t mind being alone. Go finish the movie! Love you, see you, have fun!” And before he can react or try to argue with you, reaching up on your tiptoes you plant a quick kiss to his cheek, lips tingling as you turn and run out the door, hoping to god or whoever is listening that Steve doesn’t come after you. 
What you don’t see as you’re running down the sidewalk is your best friend standing in the doorway with his hand hovering over his cheek where you just kissed him and a blush crawling up his neck as those quick seconds play on a loop in his head for the rest of the movie. 
 ****************************************
It’s been a few days since movie night. The night you’re refusing to think about but also the one you can’t seem to get out of your head. More specifically the sound of Steve calling you baby and the feel of his fingers brushing against your throat. 
Well you’ve tried not to think about it. 
You’re not sure why this is happening now. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember so why all of a sudden do you feel like panting when your skin touches his? Why now are his little smirks and pet names enough to bring you to your knees? Over the years you’ve done good, so good, at keeping yourself together in front of him, letting his comments and flirting roll off your back. But now…now you can’t be in the same room without wanting to tug on his hair or leave marks on his chest or feel so desperate to taste him that it drives you insane. 
You don’t know what caused this switch to flip but it fucking sucks. It sucks because besides all of that, he’s still your best friend. Yeah, it’s ungodly how hot he is but he’s also still the guy who buys you your favorite ice cream when you’ve had a rough day, who goes to see scary movies with you when no one else will because you’re the only one that likes them. He’s saved you, cared for you, loved you for a few years now and honestly that just makes it worse! 
He’s mouthwatering AND a good guy. Fuck him for that. 
In the few days since you’ve seen him he’s called. 11 times? Maybe more. And you’ve been conveniently in the shower or asleep or anything else your mother can make up while you try and figure out what you’re going to say to him. The problem with this is that the longer you avoid him, the more awkward and hard this is going to be. 
So when you wake up today, 4 days after movie night, you decide it’s time to be a big girl and talk to him. Not about your feelings, god no! But it is time to at least try to be normal around him and to stop avoiding him. You already know he’s gonna look like a kicked puppy, big brown eyes staring down at you while you try and justify not talking to him for days. You’re fucked. So fucked. 
Walking downstairs you hear the phone ringing and your heart drops. Maybe you’re not ready for this. Maybe your family can just move! That should work. You’ll miss everyone but honestly this seems like your best option at this point. 
Your dad is gone for the day, your mom is standing at the counter with her purse on her shoulder like she’s about to walk out the door with her mouth open, ready to give Steve yet another excuse to why you can’t talk to him. But you’re brave. You’re a big girl who can handle a phone call with your best friend. Your hot best friend you're madly in love with and want to climb like a tree. 
Your hand is out and reaching for the phone before you can talk yourself out of it, a sigh of relief leaving your mother as she practically throws it at you, running for the door before you change your mind. It’s by your ear for a good few seconds before you hear him, his voice raspy and deep so you know he’s just woken up and it makes your whole body buzz. 
“Hello?” 
It’s now or never. Never sounds nice. “Hey! How ya been? How’s it going? How was the movie?” The questions pour out of you so quickly you’re not sure he can even understand what you’re saying but you hold your breath and wait anyway. 
“How’s it going? Are you kidding me? Fuckin’ Christ! You’ve taken about 12 showers in 4 days and couldn’t be bothered to talk to me, why don’t you tell me how it’s going.” So he was upset. Totally fair. 
“Don’t be mad at me, please.” It was the first thing that came out of your mouth and you knew it was stupid but you couldn’t help it. He deserved to be mad at you, to yell and cuss and whatever else he deemed fit. But now that you had heard his voice again for the first time in days, the thought of him being upset with you made you want to cry, even though you had done this! 
You heard him take a deep breath and knew he was running his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends the way he always did when he was stressed. “M‘not mad, sweetheart. I mean, maybe a little but I was more worried! That something had happened or I had done something or…I don’t know. Was just worried sick and…god I just fuckin’ missed you.” 
Had you mentioned that you were fucked? His words hit you a ton of bricks, any thoughts you had about moving on or maybe distancing yourself gone in an instant. Because he was worried. And he missed you. He fuckin’ missed you. And god you loved him so much it hurt, so much you could feel it in your fingertips and toes like little zaps of electricity when you thought of him or heard his voice. 
You were gone for Steve Harrington. 
“I..m’so sorry, Stevie. I missed you too, so much and I’m so sorry and I’m just…I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong, you never do! I’ve just been a mess and my minds been a mess and I thought some time to myself would help me but really it's just..it doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m sorry and I missed you.” 
“S’okay, bunny. You alright? Can talk to me about anything, you know. I’m not…I know I’m not always the best at this stuff but I’d be good for you. I’ll listen to ya all day, do whatever I can to help you. Wanna come over? Movie night just the two of us? I’ll order you pizza and get you extra buttery popcorn and some ice cream, promise.” 
The thought of being alone with Steve sends red lights flashing through your brain but when he sounds so…god when he’s saying all the right things in a voice you’d dare describe as whiny you can’t help but to want to drop everything and all but crawl to him. 
So at the expense of your sanity you agree quickly, promising you’ll be there by 8 o’clock and hang up the phone before he can call you sweetheart or bunny again running up the stairs to take the coldest shower you’ve ever taken that does nothing to erase the thoughts of Steve from your mind. 
  *****************************************
The walk to Steve’s was surprisingly calm. You weren’t freaking out completely, just a little nervous but that was nothing new to you when it came to spending time with Steve, especially alone. 
Unfortunately for you, that calm lasted for all of about 10 minutes. 
In theory it was a good idea to spend some time with Steve after ignoring him for days. It was an okay idea to agree to a movie night with your best friend. Was. 
But now that you’re standing on his porch and his door was just thrown open to reveal a freshly showered Steve, it seems like all of this was a horrible idea. 
An awful, terrible, horribly bad idea. 
Awful because you can see little beads of water from his freshly washed hair dropping and running down his throat. Awful because the urge to lean forward and run your tongue over them is so strong you swear your mouth waters a little bit. 
Terrible because he’s wearing that goddamn white t-shirt that is hugging his arms so tight and since when did his arms start to look like that? Awful because that same damn shirt is tight over his chest too. It fits him so well you can see it snug against his tummy and waist. It fits him like a glove and your hands clench at your sides to keep from touching him. 
And this is bad. So horribly bad because he’s wearing his favorite pair of light wash denim jeans that cling to his thighs so nicely you feel your knees wobble. One of your hands comes up to your mouth to run over your chin, subconsciously making sure you’re not actually drooling despite the way you wish you could drop to your knees and spend hours leaving marks on those thighs. You can’t see his ass and you’re praying to god he doesn’t turn around so you don’t have to suffer through seeing how his jeans hug him just right. 
While your mind is running a million miles a minute with thoughts of Steve, you realize you actually haven’t said anything. Haven’t made a move to greet him or walk in, instead just standing there with what you imagine is a slack jaw and wide eyes. Willing yourself to meet his gaze, you somehow manage to drag your eyes off his thighs and bring them up, up, up until you meet his. 
He definitely does not look like a kicked puppy right now. Those brown eyes are darker and he’s wearing a smirk that would make you do anything he asked. He cocks his eyebrow at you, amusement clear in his face as you try and collect yourself. 
“You look starved, honey. Wanna come in?” 
   *********************************
After the initial embarrassment wears off, you feel a little better. Somehow managing to brush off his teasing as if you weren’t just devouring him with your eyes, you follow Steve to the kitchen, laughing as he tries to balance all the snacks he’d bought for you in arms. He shot you a glare full of playfulness when you tried to help, insisting that he “was a big boy and could handle the snacks.” 
Now you find yourself on that same couch from last week, much more space between the two of you than there had been then, a good foot and half extra in fact. Steve laughed when he saw you practically throw yourself to the other end of the couch, hand reaching out for you with a little pout on his lips. “Think I’m gonna bite you or something?” God I wish. Please please please bite me! 
But instead you held out your hand reluctantly, fingers twisting with his as he tugged you toward him. Movie night flashed in your head. His clothed thigh just inches away from yours, arm thrown over your shoulders and a cheeky grin on his face as he pulled you into his side. A satisfied hum was heard and you could have sworn you heard him mumble under his breath, sounding a lot like “much better” but it was hard to hear anything with the smell of him clouding your senses. 
Trying to get your thoughts off of him you reach forward to grab the dvd case laying on the table, a small smile gracing your lips as you see what he had picked. “John Carpenter's Halloween. I thought you said you’d never watch this?” This time when you turned to him, he was the one with red cheeks and shy smile as he glanced between the movie and you. A small shrug and wink was thrown your way, “S’one of your favorites. You should know you’re the exception to my rules.” 
You’re fucked. 
Heart pounding in your chest all you could manage was a smile and a small “thank you” before turning away, hoping he’d get up and start the movie so you’d have something to distract you from how sweet he was, watching a scary movie you know he doesn’t want to watch just because it’ll make you happy. 
It was about halfway through the movie when it happened. 
Everything was going well! You were snuggled into his side, actually paying attention to the movie and not sitting there distraught over being so close to him. You were so invested you hadn’t noticed your hand slip to his thigh during a scene that had made you jump. 
But Steve noticed. 
Too engrossed in your movie to see how your hand was holding his upper thigh and it definitely would have been too high if you’d been paying attention. You didn’t notice this or the way Steve was now on red alert, whole body tense with his hand gripping the couch cushion and his eyes trained on your hand as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. 
He could do this, he could ignore your hand and let you watch your movie. It would be fine. He’ll just slip into the bathroom when it’s over or wait till you go home to take care of his now aching cock. And god was he aching. He didn’t dare move, too nervous that you’d get all weird and fidgety like you’d been. This was the closest you’d been to him without seeming freaked out in weeks and he was not about to ruin that. 
The smell of your lavender shampoo overwhelmed him, a groan threatening to spill out while you sat there so unaware of how beautiful you looked just existing. He noticed everything about you. The slope of your little button nose and the way your lips, your perfect pink lips, parted just so when you were lost in thought. He noticed how your cheeks would turn the prettiest shade of red when he called you baby or honey or sweetheart. And he loved it, craved it even. He couldn’t tell if it was because of him or if you were just a sensitive little thing in general. He’d take what he could get with you, even if he had to live off your rosy cheeks and holding your pinky for the rest of his life. 
“Fuck, honey, m’sorry but you have got to move your hand, please.” Steve’s voice in your ear so suddenly made you jump, a small yelp leaving your lips as you turned to see what he was talking about. You didn’t even realize you were touching him! But one look down at this thigh and you gasped, cheeks burning as your eyes moved from your hand clinging to his thigh over to now very noticeable bulge straining against those light wash jeans. Ripping your hand away as if he’d burned you, a string of curses and apologies flew out as you scrambled to move as far away as possible. 
If he looked pained with your hand on his thigh then he looked downright miserable now that you’d taken it away. “Don’t have to run away from me, honey. M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you I just…fuck I couldn’t sit still with you holding onto me like that.” He did his best to tug you back and you let him. “Sorry, Stevie. I wasn’t…I didn’t, I was just watching the movie I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 
He looked at you with furrowed brows, eyes jumping all over your face like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew something you should know. Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other for some time before he sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch before coming back to look at you again. 
Hand cradling your cheek he gave you a small, tired small like he couldn’t believe you could possibly make him uncomfortable. That is not the word he would use. “Silly girl, I’m not uncomfortable because your hand was on me. I’m uncomfortable because your hand on me is making me wanna pin you down and fuck you so hard you can’t think straight.”
Oh. Oh. 
Lips parted you just stared at him, not sure you’d be able to form a coherent thought let alone words right now. He wanted to fuck you? Since when? Why hasn’t he ever brought this up? Doesn’t he know you’d do anything he asked of you? 
Steve let you process, could see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours and your eyes switching from looking at him to looking at where his cock was pressing up against the zipper of his pants. Maybe he’d said too much, gone too far. He was almost certain now that you liked him, wanted him, but maybe it was too overwhelming to be so blunt with you. 
“Y’know what baby? I can see you freaking out and I didn’t mean to make you nervous so I’m gonna go to the bathroom, alright? Gonna take care of this real quick and then we can finish the movie, can start another one if you want. I’ll be right back and we can figure this out later.” It was him getting off the couch that broke you out of whatever spell you were under, hand wrapping around his arm and if you weren’t so desperate for this, for him, you’d be embarrassed by the look of panic in your eyes at the thought of not getting to see this, to make him feel good. 
“Please stay. Just…fuck just stay, okay?” 
Both of you paused, staring at each other and waiting for someone to move or to breathe or just do something. A soft “okay” was murmured between you, Steve settling back into the couch as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Fuck was this really happening? 
“Whatever you want to happen can happen, baby.” 
You definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud but now that you had, a little burst of courage hit you and you just let it pour out. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud I just..I didn’t…I’m nervous. You make me nervous. I want this. I want this so bad you have no idea but I didn’t know you wanted this so now my head is fucked and I’m rambling and kinda freaking out but you can stay. You can stay and I can watch or I can help or whatever you want just..stay. Ok?” You dared a glance up at Steve, his eyes wide and a grin broke out on his face. He looked as if you’d just handed him the moon not offered to watch him get off. 
Taking your hand in his he gave you a squeeze, “We’ll go slow. I can start and you can watch and if you wanna do more, feel fucking free, honey. But if you don’t, that’s fine. If you want me to stop, say the word. You’re in charge here,” he paused, lifting his hand to take my chin between his fingers so I’d be forced to meet his eyes, “and for the record, there hasn’t been I second I've known you where I haven’t wanted this. I’ll take anything you give me, swear it. Whatever you want, any way you want.” 
“Kiss me, please.” 
He didn’t need to be told twice, moving his hand to cup your cheek and pulling you toward him, his lips pressing against yours soft at first, testing the waters and trying to keep you calm. His lips were just as soft as you’d imagined, sweet like the candy he’d been eating earlier. You groaned against him, pushing closer and opening your mouth to invite him in, the thought of his tongue on yours enough to have you reaching your hands into his hair to tug him closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. 
He pulled back first, a string of spit connecting the two of you and he cursed at the sight, “Jesus, fuck I can’t believe you’ve kept this sweet, pretty mouth away from me. S’not nice, baby. So mean to me, yeah?” If you thought you were desperate before it was nothing compared to now, now that you’d had a taste of him. 
“M’sorry Stevie, so sorry, not gonna keep em from you anymore. Promise, promise, promise.” You’re barely making sense, your head spinning and your body on fire. Foreheads pressed together you tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t think or breathe or function when he was this close to you with his swollen, spit kissed lips just inches away from yours. 
Coming out of your post-kiss haze you move back beside Steve, eager and desperate to finally see him, all of him. His eyes widen as your hands go to the button of his jeans, tugging relentlessly and you're just so cute he has to laugh. Eager too and fuck how did he get so lucky?
“Take em off, please. Want them off, Stevie.” You’re full on pouting now and it takes everything in you not to cry. You’d do it if he wanted, you’d do anything. But he doesnt let it get that far, taking your hands off his jeans and cooing at you and it makes you feel a little pathetic but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when he’s about to finally pull down his pants. 
He does so wordlessly, eyes bouncing from his lap to your face every few seconds like he’s checking in on you, making sure he’s not missing anything and that you still want this. It makes your tummy flutter and your heart race, his caring for you. His pants pushed down to his knees is all he can manage, head too fuzzy thinking about you and how he’s so hard it hurts worse than it ever has.
As soon as his jeans were out of your way you were staring, gawking really, at the white boxers sitting so prettily on his hips that were doing nothing to hide how hard, how big he was. A small wet patch forming where you know his tip is resting and it makes your mouth water. He’s just so hot. So hot and it makes it even better that this is because of you. Fuck.
A beg was on the tip of your tongue but before you could he put you out of your misery. Lifting his hips up you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep still while he pulled his boxers down, pretty, messy, cock slapping against his stomach. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steve! You’re so…I’m…fuck.” He breathed out a laugh which quickly turned to a wince when we saw how you were looking at him, at his cock. He felt himself twitch under your stare and you swear your mouth just fell open as if it was meant to be. 
His hand drifted towards his cock, eyes still on you to make sure you were okay. You gave him a nod and the sigh of relief you both had when he finally wrapped his hand around himself would have made you laugh if you weren’t throbbing. His head fell back against the couch and you were torn between watching him touch himself or watching his face while he did it. The former won, your eyes trailing the way his hand moved slowly, teasing the both of you. 
“S’pretty, you’re so pretty…” You’re not even sure you were talking to him, more just to yourself but he heard you nonetheless. His hips jerked at that, a small moan slipping past his swollen lips as he turned his head toward you, watching you with hooded eyes. I could watch this forever, you thought. 
You couldn’t believe it. A few days ago you were thinking of ways to never speak to Steve again and now here you were, watching him stroke his cock in front of you and looking at him as if he was your last meal. He held his hand out, a silent plea for something but you didn’t know what, not until he spoke.
“So good, baby, so pretty. Can you ju-just spit on my hand for me, honey? Lick it, spit on it, anything you want, I just need you please.” His words were slurred and if you hadn’t spent the last few hours together you would think he was drunk. He seemed so out of it, but in the best way. Like he didn’t just want you but needed you. It made you feel good, better than you ever had and it gave you a spark of bravery you were missing before. 
Knocking his hand out of your way you leaned forward with cautious eyes, watching as he tried to figure out what you were doing until it dawned on him and his cock twitched in his hand. You leaned forward, face hovering inches above him and spit, both of you watching as it dropped from your mouth to his tip, covering the top of his hand as he began to stroke himself again. His lips parted in an “o”, eyes squeezed shut and his tummy clenching as he let out the loudest moan you had heard, so loud and strong you felt yourself clenching around nothing.
You were wet but with Steve looking and sounding like that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how bad you were aching right now, far too focused on Steve and how his thighs were starting to shake a little and his hips were starting to move faster and more uneven. 
“C-can I?” 
His eyes shot open, head shaking furiously before he had even fully understood what you were asking. He knew he wouldn't last more than ten seconds if you touched him but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was how pretty you were, how good he was feeling, how you had just fucking spit on his cock. He would take whatever you gave him. 
With a whine that you would replay in your mind for the rest of your life he took his hand off, tugging yours closer to take his place. Both of you moaned at the contact and you were almost convinced you could cum just from touching him. “Help me, I want you to feel good, please.” He looked like a bobblehead as he nodded, putting his much larger hand over yours and giving it a squeeze, helping you to stroke him just how he liked, though anything from you would feel a million times better than his own hand. 
Addicted would be the word to describe it. Now that you had touched him, felt how hot and smooth his cock was in your hand, how pretty it looked all pink and wet and coated in your spit. Steve liked it messy and apparently so did you. You thought you were addicted to his cock, and you were, but nothing prepared you for the absolute filth that started spilling from him once he finally had your hand on him. It made you dizzy and out of breath and goddamn you would have to throw these panties in the trash after this. Absolutely ruined, just like you were. 
“Fuckin’ dreamed about this, ‘bout your hand on my cock, s’good, baby.”
“Don’t think I don’t see you squirming, honey. My pretty girl all wet ‘n needy and I haven’t even touched you. Bet you’re drenched and achy, huh?”
“Gonna make me cum, gonna make a mess of us but I bet you’ll be good and clean it up for me, won’t ya, bunny?”
He was babbling now and you could barely make sense of what he was saying but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t and you didn’t want to. His cock was slick with precum and your spit one of his hands guiding yours in quick strokes while his other was gripping the couch so hard his knuckles were white. 
“M’close, honey…so so close.”
“Please, Stevie…want it, I need it, please.” And that was all it took. No warning, your words taking him by surprise and hitting him like a punch to the gut. He took his hand off, bringing it to your hair and tugging you to him. It was a messy kiss, lips pressed together while he moaned against you, just breathing each other in while he cursed and whined, his hips stilling and you slowed, looking down just in time to see him cum. Your hand and his lower stomach was covered, his hand that was gripping the couch now thrown over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. 
Chest and neck covered in sweat, he looked good. When he finally had gathered himself enough to look at you, he instantly regretted it. Instead of his innocent best friend, his sweet little bunny, he was looking at a little devil lapping at his cum on her hand like she hadn’t eaten in days. His softening cock twitched against his thighs and he stifled a groan when you hummed happily at the taste. 
“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” You shrugged half heartedly, not even a little bit of you was sorry. 
“Can we finish the movie now, Stevie? I’ll probably pass out soon you wore me out, but I’m too tired to move.”
He looked down at you a little confused, your cheeks still pink and thighs still clenched together tightly. “You don’t…I can…I wanna take care of you too, sweetheart. Been dying to get a taste of you, know you’re sweet.”
You giggled and even though you were a mess, in every sense of the word, you didn’t think you could handle anymore and told him as such, eyes already feeling droopy and your body sagging against him. “Next time? Promise you can do anything you want to me next time but watching you cum was enough for me.” Your cheeks flamed as if you hadn’t just licked your best friend’s cum off your hand. 
“Alright, honey. Let’s finish your movie, you little vixen. Didn’t even take me out to dinner before you were drooling over my cock. A crime!” His smile was bright as you smacked at his chest and cursed him for teasing you.
You were sure that what had just happened would hit you soon and the panic would set in but for now you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you pressed a kiss to Steve’s bare chest and felt his grin against the top of your head. 
Did I mention I was fucked? 
1K notes · View notes
dwaekkicidal · 5 months ago
Text
Lessons
˚ʚfwb!Bang Chan x fem!Readerɞ˚
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: Just a regular session of your best friend helping you learn Korean <3
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 1.6k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, nicknames; ‘honey and good girl,’ pvssy slaps, playful ass&thigh spanking, Chris calls himself Daddy once lol, rough sex, creampie (try to pee after sex pls <3)
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: max and I spoke about this a few weeks ago and it was soo hot so I wanted to write something for it,,, but then I lost motivation for it for a while😭 anyways hope u enjoy <3
OH and thank you for 700 followers!! (im late so now so ~25 away from 800) :''') I have something planned for if/when I hit 1k hehe, Love u guys :>
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
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After you had moved to Korea, you made it your sole goal to be completely fluent in Korean as soon as possible. You knew the basics and some vocabulary that got you through day-to-day encounters, but holding an actual conversation past introductions was rather difficult. So, this is how you found yourself in your current situation. Your best friend and fuck buddy of 2 years giving you weekly Korean lessons.
And this? This was a normal thing between you both. Sitting in his lap practicing while he sits there explaining things and kneading your thighs mindlessly. It was a normal occurrence! The only difference is you usually wore sweats or some sort of bottom that would cover your legs more. Today was one of the hotter days of the week, so you disregarded the extras and opted to only wear one of his shirts, nothing else.
His hands rubbed eagerly up and down your thighs, squeezing the flesh like he does with soft pillows. Again, it was normal, but today he seemed to be restless with his movements. You couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath when he mindlessly squeezed the flesh of your inner thigh rather roughly while he translated a word you couldn’t figure out. “What is up with you today? You’re more touchy-feely than usual.”
“Sorry haha. Had a long day so I’m fidgety.. And you know I can’t resist you in nothing but my shirt.” You only hummed in response. You believed what he said, but you also knew that he wasn’t stupid and that the apology was not for his roughness as much as it was for how riled up he knew you were getting. He was never actually sorry about being physically affectionate with you, but you both knew how you tended to get very horny when his hands were on you so desperately.
“Mmmm.. Let me play with you a little while you read, okay?” You shake your head and push your study items away, pulling a laugh from him when you mumbled out ‘Fuck that, I need you.’
“None of that hahaha. Focus on the reading, honey.” He said, placing a kiss on your cheek before leaning down and biting into your neck. You groaned and leaned back into him, grinding against him in an attempt to make him fold in your favor. He let the first few grinds pass as he left hickeys along your neck, but the second your hands cupped him through his shorts he grabbed your hips to still your movements.
“Hey.“ The commanding tone in his voice caught you off guard and had your hands immediately stop in their tracks. “Stop that. You’re going to finish reading this text and then I’ll fuck you nice and good.”
“It’s not that serious, Chris. It's just a few paragraphs, we can do it after or just skip out this week.. Plus it’s your fault I’m this horny anyways.” The attitude in your voice makes him narrow his eyes, and then he grabs your chin and angles you to look back at him.
“Watch your tone. And I’m not gonna tell you again,” His hand grabbed both of yours and placed them on the table before moving to spread your legs open for him. Then, he finishes his sentence and enunciates each word with a harsh smack to your bare cunt. “Finish. Reading. The. Article.” The last one comes off harder than the others and it pulls a squeal from you, making your hands shoot down and wrap around his wrist while your legs slam shut against his hand. He grabs from your inner knee and hooks your legs over his, keeping you spread for him, and he pulls your book closer again.
You can feel the teasing smile on his face after he places a kiss on your cheek and then speaks against it. “You only have one article left, honey. The quicker you read it, the quicker I can bend you over and fuck you into the table~” You can’t help but whine and nod. Once you look down at the material again, Chris’ hands that were previously rubbing your inner thigh move back to rub along your wet folds. 
Then for what feels like the next hour, but was really just 20 long minutes, you slur out the words in front of you as best as you can. Chris’ left hand swapped between drawing circles into your clit and pinching your nipple, while his right hand shoved fingers against your walls. And every couple of minutes he would swap between kissing your neck to sucking hickeys into your collarbone. However, you weren’t allowed to cum and any time you mispronounced something or took too long to read a word, a stern slap was sent against your clit. As long as you continued to read well, he would pump 3 of his fingers in and out of you.
By the time you’re halfway through the material, your mind is foggy and you’re almost drooling on yourself from the constant edging. By the time you’re on the last sentence, your legs are shaking and you're slumped against him letting out quiet moans. Your neck and collarbone were so red from his incessant suckling, and you were desperate to get this over with. And then, when you finally finished, he stopped all movements to place a soft, congratulatory slap on your thigh and massaged your hips.
“Good girl… Now was that so hard?” With that, he hurriedly clears the desk before helping you stand and then standing himself. The chair you both rested on was kicked backwards and your whole world spun as he suddenly pinned you to the desk. You whined as his hand held a tight grip in your hair and pushed your face into the table. His free hand playfully squeezed and slapped at your ass a few times before you heard his shorts and boxers hit the floor.
You sighed out his name as he teased his tip through your folds, silently pleading with him to hurry it up. “Shhhhhh… ‘Atta girl. You did so well, baby. Now let me take care of you, yeah?”
He finally sunk in and nothing but low, whiny moans left your lips as you clenched around him. His free hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it in appreciation while he slowly sunk every inch he had to offer. Once he bottomed out he gave you only a little bit of time before his thrusts started, albeit slowly at first but quickly ramping up due to his own impatience. It doesn’t take long for him to change to an unforgiving and rougher pace, his hand still holding your head against the table.
“Fff-fuck.. Christopherrr-”
“Yeah yeah, baby. Daddy’s got you. ‘M nice and deep, just how you like it right?” You missed the way he smirked when you let out a desperate ‘Uh-huh’ in response, but you could feel the way it encouraged him when his hips slammed against yours with more eagerness. He keeps this pace up for a while until he feels you tighten around him, and then he changes to slow, deep thrusts that make your eyes roll into your skull. 
The hand in your hair slides on top of yours on the desk, intertwining your fingers, and he leans forward to place his forehead between your shoulder blades, “Mmmm keep squeezing me, Honey. Fffuck, juuust like that..”
When you’re tipping over the edge, he places a kiss on your sweaty skin and moans against it. “That’s it, baby. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up just how you like it, okay?” You want to nod, but everything hits you at once so you can only cry out against your desk.
As your orgasm starts to fade into overstimulation, he fixes his posture and focuses on his hip movements. A squeaky moan falls from your lips as he suddenly bottoms out and the hold on your hip tightens. He threw his head back and bit his bottom lip as he came, attempting to muffle his whiney moans. He rides out his orgasm by sometimes pulling out and snapping his hips harshly against yours.
“Fuck… If that’s how we end the studying session from now on, I might consider this payment.” He jokes.
You let out a breathy laugh and he starts to pull out slowly, pushing you into the table as he did so. You take the moment to catch your breath when you realize he’s gone quiet and there’s the light feeling of breath on your thighs. Your head snaps back and you realize he was kneeling in order to watch his cum slide down your folds.
“Hey!” you whine and place a hand on his forehead, pushing his face away only for him to resist, so you use your feet to push him harder. He laughs at your embarrassment and stands up, pulling you to sit up as well and lifting the shirt off of you. He uses it to wipe you down before throwing it into your hamper and grabbing one of his spare shirts from your dresser. He steals a kiss before covering you in the shirt, then drags you to the living room to watch a tv show together.
You two spend the rest of the night on the couch, watching tv and relaxing in each other’s warmth. It’s no surprise when soft snores are heard and you look down to see his sleeping face squished into your chest. You huff out a laugh before you snuggle him closer. Then, your eyes get heavy until they inevitably close, and you fall asleep too.
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Taglist:
@jiminssluttyminx @changisworld @juskz @linohumina
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lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago
Text
Cozy
Eddie Munson x fem reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Waking up the day after Eddie has fucked your brains out you have a little more fun.
Warning: 18 +. unprotected sex, p n v, breeding kink, kinda innocent reader, soft dom eddie, 1 whore, a bit of hair pulling.
Thank you to those of you who beta read! <3
Masterlist
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You wake up in the late morning, sun shining through the blinds, warming your bare body. You can feel the heat radiating from your boyfriend as well. He's awake too. You can tell by how his hips keep pressing into you from behind, still not satisfied even after a night of rolling in the sheets 
Eddie's arm holds you close to him and you feel his lips barely caress the shell of your ear. "Morning baby." He hums. 
You smile sleepily. "Mornin'," you say as you snuggle further back into him.
He grunts. "Don't do that or you'll start something you can't finish."
"I don't know what you’re talkin' 'bout." Your giggles are soft, muffled by the comforter.
Eddie rolls his hips into the curve of your ass. "Oh, I bet you do." He bites at your ear lobe. 
"Eddie stop." You swat your hand behind you at an awkward angle. 
"Stop what?" He asked, rolling his hips again.
This time you can't help but moan. 
You can feel him grinning lazily, his unshaven scruff catching on your hair. 
He's getting harder, his cock is pressing into you and it's impossible to ignore with neither of you having clothes on. 
Eddie slowly moves his hand down your body, fingers contouring to every curve until he ends up between your legs. 
He pries your leg back and hooks it over his own. "You're so wet, baby. I've barely done anything." He says as he runs a thick finger through your folds. 
You shift, sighing when he touches your clit. "Eddie..."
You liked him like this. Liked living in the softness of a late Saturday morning. But you can't lie, you liked it when he was rough too. 
Memories of the night before had you buzzing. Skin on skin, mouth to mouth. You loved when he dominated you but you loved when he was soft and sweet. 
"What is it, sweetheart? What'd ya need?" He asks, finger now circling languidly around your entrance. 
"Mmm, you. Need you." 
"Me? What from me?" He teases.
You just whimper, brain foggy from sleep and his touch.
"Come on, Sweetheart, tell me." His thumb swipes over your clit.
"Please," you breathe. "Need your cock." Your face is flush. He knows how much that word embarrasses you. 
"Is that right? Want me to give you my cock?" His finger dips ever so slightly into you 
"Yes!" Your hands grip the covers when he finally pushes his finger into you fully. 
Eddie takes his fingers away from you and gives your ass a quick smack. He leans in and gives you a kiss on the cheek before whispering, "Then get in that puppy pose I love so much."
Your legs squeezed shut and your heart fluttered. He could always make the most dirty things sound so innocent. 
Wasting no time you throw off the covers and get onto your knees. Eddie watches you with lust-filled eyes as you slowly put your chest to the mattress, leaving your ass bare and presented. 
With your head resting on the bed, you can only hear and feel Eddie moving behind you. You suck in a deep breath when his large hand grasps your ass cheek. 
"Such a good girl for me." He praises and you keen. You wiggle your hips and he laughs through his nose. "Gonna give you what you want." 
His hands roam over the roundness of your ass, spreading your cheeks even more apart. 
You clench around nothing, waiting as he admires you. 
"Eddie?" You ask.
He hums in response, still staring at how you are spread out for him.
"Need you really bad," you whine. You could only stand so long without him being inside you and patience was starting to wear thin. 
"Okay, okay." He pressed up into you. He's hot, you can feel the heat radiating from him as he pushes his cock through your wet folds. He passes through them a few times before he takes a breath and pushes into you completely.
The angle had him hitting deep within you. His head rubbed against your walls in a way that had you clenching your toes. 
“Fuck,” you moan into the sheets, fingers grasping for anything that could help ground you. 
“That’s it, baby.” Eddie groans. “Pussy’s just squeezin’ me.” He begins to pump in and out of you at a steady pace. “God you’re perfect.” 
You close your eyes and reach your hand behind you. Your fingers come in contact with Eddie’s hip and he slides his own hand from your ass down your back. His touch sends a shiver down your spine. 
A long whine is pulled from you when Eddie fists your hair in his hand, tugging only hard enough for you to feel a small amount of pressure on the back of your head. He moans when you start to rock back into him. “That’s right use my fuckin’ cock.”
He pulls your hair harder and you mewl. “Wanna be closer to you.”
“Okay Sweetheart.” Eddie lets go of your hair and reaches down with both hands to help you up. He pulls your back flush to his chest, it’s sticky with perspiration. He dosen’t stop his efforts, his hips still move, pucnhing into you. 
All you can do is grunt and groan as you feel him fucking into you. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your chest so that he can hold you steady but also grab at your breast. 
“Yes, yes, yes,” you moan into his ear. “Want- fuck I want-”
“What’s that baby? What do you want?”
You can’t answer, too embarrassed to say but when Eddie gives you a firm smack on the ass, the words come fumbeling past your lips. “Cum inside me. Want you to cum inside me, gimmie- fuck- gimmie- ah!” 
His hips press harder into you. “oh? Want me to fuck you full?” He slaps your ass again. “Hum? Want me to fuck a baby into you?”
Those words had you crying, begging for more. You love when he talks like that. When he fucks into you so despretly at the thought of you having his children.
“Mmm, that’s what I thought. Such a whore aren't you, Sweetheart? Need everybody to know you’re mine.”
“Yes. Yes, Eddie, I’m yours.” You heave. 
Eddie lets you go and you crumble back to the bed. His pace quickens and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. His breathing gets heavier, and you can feel the pleasure building inside you. Your moans get louder and more frequent. 
“Right there!” You cry when he goes deeper. 
“Yeah, baby? Right there? That’s the spot?” 
You nod and he continues to hit just the right place. Your mouth is hanging open, drool pooling on the bed. It feels so good to have him so close. 
In and out, in and out he goes, hips clapping against your ass. Your back arches and you feel yourself coming closer. 
You let your hand fall from behind you to the bed before you bring it between your legs. Your fingers find your clit and begin circling. Another shudder courses through your body and you clench around Eddie. 
“God, fuck baby, don’t do that.” He grunts, thrusts faltering as you squeeze him again. 
“AH! Eddie, please, I'm gonna cum.” You moan. Wetness is dripping down your thighs and hand and onto the sheets. 
“Then cum, sweetheart. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” He tells you, hips snapping into you faster. 
You feel yourself tensing in pleasure before you finally let go, cumming hard. You keen and arch your back, your orgasm crashing through you. Eddie thrusts a few more times before his own orgasm overtakes him and he groans. You both collapse in a heap, breathing heavily. 
When you open an eye to peek at Eddie, he’s already watching you. A smile envelopes you and you hide back in the sheets. 
Eddie tuts, “Let me see that pretty face.” He takes his hand and tries to pull you from your hiding place. “Come on, Sweetheart, show me how beautiful you look.”
You finally peer up at him again and he just beams, cheeks round and eyes scrunched. He leans forward and plants a kiss on your forehead before leaving pecks down the bridge of your nose and lastly on your lips. You hum into him. 
“I love you, y’know that?” He asks. 
“Yeah, I know. I love you too.” You say sweetly before you are interrupted by a yawn. 
Eddie gives you another tender kiss on the cheek, “Go back to sleep baby, I’ll clean this mess up.” 
“Okay-” you comply, yawning again. Before Eddie can leave and come back with a warm cloth, you are already fast asleep. 
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nanivinsmoke · 7 months ago
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His. Hers. Ours.
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married!Toji x nannyF!Reader
summary : what she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.
warnings and tags: raw sex, nothing but straight fucking! creampie, ass worship, slight cock warning, reader has a big ass, age gap (reader’s in her 20s and toji is in his late 30s), breeding, cheating (married toji), also i gave his wife a name (megumi’s mom), fingering.
“too b-big—g’na cum, toji~” you breathed, earning a smack to your cunt as the older man fucked you, his stroke slow yet deep; making your cunt gush.
“huh? didn’t quite hear that” his words teasing, his teeth nibbling on your ears, sending chills up your spine.
“oh fuck—cumming for you, daddy!” he thrusted inside of you harder, his tip hitting your spot each time, making your eyes roll back—showing off the whites.
“mhm, let it all out. we gotta hurry up too, don’t want wifey to catch us” he grunted, reaching around to clutch on your boob. you held on his forearm, pussy frantically clenching around him as you came.
“did you just get off at the thought of her catching us? hm? want her to see her nanny cumming all over her husbands cock, hm?” the hand that was on your boob, was now around your neck; choking you while you continued to cum.
“fuck, you’re so wet—shit gonna cum~” with a few more sloppy thrusts, he emptied his load inside of you, cunt full of cum—making you shiver from how warm it was inside of you. he pulled himself out of you, with the rest of his seed pooling out���before he got up from the king sized bed to get dressed.
“c’mon, she should be home any minute now.” he spoke, putting his sweatpants on along with his grey t-shirt; tossing you your own clothes. you slowly grabbed your pink shirt, slipping it over your head—trying to reach for your panties, which he happily snatched away. “toji!~”
“these are for me. if you’ll be a good girl, you’ll get them later. now hurry up and get dinner started, I’ll put the sheets in the wash” you wanted to reach for them again, but you knew that would only lead to you being put through the mattress and being caught by mrs. fushiguro. you slipped on your khaki miniskirt, walking towards the kitchen to get started on dinner; trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of his cum dripping down the sides of your legs.
you’ve been with the fushiguro’s for a few months now, working as their nanny. even though mrs. fushiguro was currently pregnant with their only child, she still wanted you to be her nanny until the baby gets here.
when you first met toji, he answered the front door shirtless, your eyes were stuck on his abs; mentally counting each of them. he brought you back to reality with a snicker, making you lock eyes with his dark green ones.
“eyes up here sweetheart. what can i do for you?” his voice was deep, causing you to shiver and press your thighs together. you readjusted yourself, gripping your suitcase and your bag that held your laptop and other things.
“im your nanny. mizuki called me and told me i could start today?” you adverted your gaze, trying to stop the thoughts about him that filled your mind. “oh, my wife? yeah she did mention something about that. let me show you where your room is” he reached for your suit case and you immediately cringed, the man was married! and here you were thinking about how you would let him have his way with you.
you vowed from that day on that you would just let him be your boss. well, at least you tried to. toji couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. he studied every curve and every inch of your body, loving the way your ass stood out in everything you wore. be it jeans, sweatpants or pajamas, your ass poked through them. he tried so hard to contain himself and remember that he had a pregnant wife, but seeing how full it looked when you bent over; had him cumming in his pants.
your thoughts about him only became stronger, especially at night. panties to the side, while you rubbed your swollen clit—thinking about him teasing your aching hole, lowly moaning his name as you released, and drifting off to sleep afterwards. it was a nightly routine for you and as much as you tried to ignore it you couldn’t. especially today.
mizuki was away at work, while you and toji were at home. toji sat on the couch with a beer in hand, watching television like always. you learned that he was currently unemployed, which meant that he was home with you all the time. you were walking around with a wooden basket, picking up the dirty clothes that were strewn around the house, all thanks to him.
ignoring his presence, you picked up the laundry in the living room, his eyes immediately moving from the t.v and onto you. he watched the way you moved and then he noticed how short your skirt was. it barely covered you, which made your cheeks hang out from under it. he sat up correctly on the couch and rested a hand on his crotch, rubbing himself through it.
you were oblivious to his gaze, forgetting that he was there, until you bent over—giving him a view of your whole ass. he couldn’t contain himself anymore and you had the nerve to have a thong on too?
“y/n. come here” you huffed and let out a hm, turning around only to be left breathless. there was a huge tent in his sweatpants which he was gripping, his face was a little contorted and his eyes were low and lidded. you felt your body get hot and you tried your best to ignore it.
“toji, i-i gotta get started on this laun—“
“come. here.” his voice was low, yet intimidating as he beckoned you with his finger. as much as your heart told you to not go over there, you couldn’t ignore the strong throbbing sensation you felt in between your legs. you dropped the basket in your spot and walked over to him, sitting down on his lap—which made him groan once he felt your warmness.
his hands immediately squeezing your plush backside, “you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t— shit—you’re so fucking thick~” he didn’t even bother to finish his sentence, too busy gripping and loving on the fat of your ass. you couldn’t help but to blush. the more he rubbed and smacked, the more aroused you became. and before you knew it, you were grinding your lower half on his hard clothed cock.
“shit. you’re a tease aren’t you~” he chuckled, bucking his hips upwards, making his cock press onto your clit— eliciting a loud mewl from your plump lips. he continued his movements for some time, his pants now coated with your slick, before he stopped and picked you as he stood up from the coach.
reading the expression on your face, he smirked and held onto your waist while walking towards his bedroom, “need some more space, so I could fuck you the way i want to.” and that’s what led to you being filled with a married man’s seed.
———
“dinner was soo good, y/n! any man would be lucky to have you as his wife” mizuki devoured the last bite of her food, washing it down with her iced tea before rubbing her growing baby bump. you smiled and began to pick up the dishes, trying to ignore the guilt that was swarming inside of you.
“thank you and you’re already a good wife, so i know you’re gonna be a great mother” you couldn’t face her, not when you had just sat on her husband’s dick almost 30 minutes ago. mizuki rose from her spot and went around the table to kiss her husband, before going to the connecting kitchen to hug you—making you cringe.
“you coming up?” mizuki turned to ask toji, who sat at the table, sipping on the last of his beer. “yeah, after I get another beer” the raven haired woman nodded and walked down the hall to their shared bedroom and closed the door. silence followed her departure, the only thing being heard in the room was the sound of the sink’s water and the clinking of dishes in the sink as you washed them.
you finished the dishes in a hurry and put them in the dishwasher to dry, drying off your hands before turning to leave. “goodnight!” you didn’t wait for his response, making a beeline to your room and shutting the door behind you. with a sigh, you began peeling your clothes off of your body, cringing when you saw the stains that were up and down your legs; all thanks to his cum.
the shower’s water was scalding when you stepped in, but that’s what you needed. you needed to punish your self, to cleanse yourself free of him. it was wrong on so many levels, yet it felt so right. the way he touched your body and made love to every part of you. the way he knew what peaked your arousal and what made you cum, felt so very right. no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body craved more of him, especially since he was someone else’s.
after your much needed shower, you grabbed your towel and headed back into your room; jumping when you seen toji sitting at the foot of your bed, making your drop it. the cool air made your nipples stand at attention and he took notice to it, licking his lips and beckoning at you with his finger. “toji…we can’t. you’re married,” you bent down, picking up your towel and wrapping it around you.
he said nothing and stared into your eyes. your knees growing weak and your thighs pressed together, you could feel your body getting warmer by the second. this time, he didn’t ask you again, instead you acted on your own and dropped the towel—before sitting your wet body on his lap. “good girl,~” he praised, before latching his to one of your hard nipples, sucking on it and swirling it around his tongue.
moans flew out of your mouth as the overwhelming sensation caused waves of pleasure to erupt inside of you. but, you didn’t want to be teased anymore, you desperately needed him back inside of you. you lifted up slightly and skillfully pulled his throbbing hard cock out of sweatpants, before lowering your slick coated cunt down onto him.
with a pop, he let go of your nipple as the two of you sucked in some air. “so—fucking….tight.” his big hands immediately went to your ass, gripping it when you began to bounce up and down. he filled you up with each bounce, the way he stretched you out had you going crazy. your tits bounced like crazy in front of him and he couldn’t help but to reattach his mount to them again, increasing your pleasure.
“shit, toji! s-sofuckinggood! i love this dick so—much,” you babbled, so drunk off his cock. he removed himself from your swollen buds, smashing his lips on yours—his tongue taking over your own. “you must really want her to catch you fuck her husbsnd, huh?” the feeling of your gummy walls clenching around him, gave him an answer and he lowly chuckled.
he gripped your hips and picked you up, pulling out of you when he flipped you on your knees, making you whine in response before he shoved himself back into you. you buried a scream into the velvet blanket underneath you, eyes rolling back as he pounded your cunt sloppy—your ass clapping against his pelvis with each thrust.
“cum for me. let her hear how much you love her husband’s dick~” he taunted, slapping your ass hard and pushing himself deeper inside of you; his tip kissing your cervix. you gripped your blanket and deepened your arch, feeling yourself coming undone around him. “cumming—cumming for you daddy!”
he was right behind you, his thrusts hard and sloppy when his dick twitched, pumping his load inside of you—filling your tummy. pulling out of you, his cum dripped out and onto the bed, as he pushed his wet cock back into his pants; leaving you fucked out of your mind.
———
you sat dazed at the dinner table, cunt sore and wet, while toji’s thick fingers teased your clit; only to be brought out of it by mizuki. “you okay y/n? i heard a scream too last night.”
you looked up and away, blushing as you recounted what happened last night. “y-yes. i just had a b-bad dream and i couldn’t get any s-s-sleep after that,” you lied, trying to fight the moan that wanted to leave your mouth as toji stuck a finger inside of you.
“aw man, how about you get some rest tonight?don’t worry about your duties today, toji will take care of you. isn’t that right?” toji nodded and smiled, fingers pumping in and out of you.
oh he would be taking more than care of you tonight.
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kitten4sannie · 2 months ago
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ateez and corruption kinks… that’s it I just had to let that out into the void
communion
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pairing: priest! yunho x nun! reader (fem)
summary: priest jeong wishes to share another communion with the most beloved member of the monastery.
wc: 1.1k
warnings: for the love of god (lol) if sacrilegious smut isn’t your thing do NOT read this,, however if it IS wellll i got something good for you <3, wine drinking, but like, in an unconventional way lmao, nasty perverted dom! yuyu, subby cock hungry! reader (can we blame her tho?), implied sex slave training, oral (giving/receiving), deepthroating, finger sucking, cum eating, implied toy usage (the toy is um….well…a religious object…)
a/n: oh nonnie idt you realize what you’ve unleashed with that ask ^^ there’s nothing i love more than corruption 🖤 physical, emotional, psychological ughhhh,,, anyways writers block and some shitty real life stuff have been taking turns beating me up the past couple months so i thought this might be a good escape for me :3 i hope you enjoy <33
p.s: i’ll be posting two more fics with a corruption theme very soonnn,, one features perverted bsf wooyoung and the other involves frat boy sannie 🫶🏼
song rec: take me to church - hozier (i mean come on….)
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No matter how dark the communal church grew in the late hours of the night, the bright light of the moon still shone through the fragmented mosaic glass, now casting a myriad of gleaming crosses across your face and body as you sat on your knees upon the altar. You raised your hands up to begin worshipping your Lord in the way you were taught by Father Jeong, gingerly opening his robes to unveil the point of your focus.
Yunho lifted up a ceremonial bell and rung it once, his robes pooling around his feet, watching as your thighs squeezed tightly together underneath your heavy garments, your shaky exhale fanning over his exposed, twitching cock, finding the unyielding look of pure lust inside your eyes to be so beautiful he could shed a tear. Over the many, many communions you’ve shared together, it seemed that the bell reminded you of your loyalty to him and to your shared savior, of the pleasure you shared all in the name of God.
He pushed your veil off to expose your hair, before he placed his large hands on either side of your head, his long, slender fingers wrapping securely around it. “And, what do we say now, Sister L/N?” he asked softly, as though he were testing you, dragging his tongue over his top set of teeth, letting out a few heavy breaths.
“O’ Lord, for which I am about to receive, is truly your most precious Body and your life-giving blood, which, I pray, makes me worthy to receive for the remission of all my sins and for everlasting life,” you recited your prayer like many times before, the wetness between your thighs everlasting, watching Father Jeong let go of your head for a second to pick up a chalice of wine from the ceremony table behind him.
Yunho held the gold chalice just above his waist, growing that much harder as the dark liquid began to pour down his long, curved length, spilling off of his sticky tip and dripping into your open mouth. “The Blood of Christ…” He watched you swallow it all down, like the obedient servant you were. Something this sinful simply had to be holy, didn’t it? He swallowed down the abundant saliva that filled his mouth. “Ahh?” he voiced, like he was waiting for you to say something.
“Amen,” you sighed out, licking the remnants of wine and pre-cum from your lips, your trembling fingers clasping around his bare hips.
“Amen.”
Yunho then thrusted forward until he hit the back of your parched throat, eagerly dragging you back and forth along his sizable cock, using you like the faithful cocksleeve you were, the repetitive sounds of squelching, gagging, and muffled moaning sending delightful shivers down his spine, much like the sacred hymns did to him every morning during mass. “Sister L/N, your throat has molded to the shape of my cock, has it not? Bonding with me all these long nights, over and over, it’s like you were made for me, and only me. Tell me, Sister, does taking the Body of Christ down your throat make you feel closer to God?”
You let out a stunted, pleased moan, blinking a few tears out of your dazed, half closed eyes, watching as a blurry version of Father Jeong brought his rosary up to his lips to kiss it. Due to being trained so consistently, you knew to relax your jaw and throat in order to take all of him without fail, your gag reflex nonexistent, simply drooling all over his long, heavy cock instead, much to Yunho’s delight.
“Oh, God, let His will be done….” He hunched over slightly, in order to pound himself into the back of your throat over and over, thick strands of pre-cum and saliva dripping from your chin and landing onto your previously pristine garments, his fingers closing in around your bulging throat to feel himself moving inside it. It was simply too much for the priest to handle. “So…nnngh–sovereign, so pure, this divinity…” Yunho expressed between heavy pants, suddenly pulling out until his twitching cockhead rested against your splayed out tongue. “Sister L/N, you must show me something heavenly so that I may fill you with the Holy Spirit. Be quick, for I am at my limit…”
Licking the beads of pre-cum from his slit, you began to lift up the layers of your tunic until your bare cunt glistened underneath the moonlight that was casted over you like a spotlight, the edges of your skin glowing as though you were a real life angel, one that was sent down from above to tempt Yunho, especially now that he could see you in your most vulnerable state. “Father Jeong, please see what I’ve done for you. I’ve kept myself full…so that I may take you inside properly…”
It was then that Father Jeong fell to his knees before you, looking up at the slick heaven in between your thighs, before leaning in to lap up the abundant wetness from your lips, his hot tongue practically melting against your cunt as he ate you out like a starved man, spreading your open with his ringed thumbs. Maintaining steady eye contact with you, he slowly pulled the hood of your clit back to expose your weak point, wrapping his plush lips around it as he began to suck and lick until he had you trembling above him, your nails digging into the dense wood of the pews. “Cum before me,” he commanded, dragging his tongue along your fluttering slit up to your throbbing clit until you let out a beautifully broken cry.
You spread your trembling thighs open just enough to allow what was filling you up the entire time to slowly come sliding out, both you and the priest letting out a similar gasp once it did. A thick, slick-covered silver cross landed inside Yunho’s open palm. He watched diligently as you lifted it up to his mouth, not even having to say anything as he sucked it clean. Without exchanging words, Yunho stood back and squeezed his throbbing cock, just as you lowered yourself back down onto your knees with a loving smile, watching with pride as he began to shudder, long spurts of his hot cum landing onto your tongue and disappearing down your throat.
“What a thing of beauty….” The priest swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. “You never fail to bring me close to our Savior, my dear,” he praised, reaching down to rub the remaining remnants of his seed over your swollen lips and onto your tongue with his thumb, pulling it away from your mouth and licking the last of his saltiness off of his digit himself.
“It’s all for the greater good,” you softly replied, slowly standing up and hiking up your now soiled garments, so that you could bend over the pew, spreading yourself wide, opening the gates of your heaven and giving Yunho access like every blissful night before. “Now, please allow me to bring you even closer.”
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mills-73 · 2 months ago
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Ok first off I love love love your writings like it just hit the g-spot u know LOLOLOL
ANyway I wanna request you for a Ford x Reader fic where the reader sneaks under his desk as he’s writing / reading smth and gives him the gawk gawk 3000. Absolutely devouring him and Ford just losing it slowly like his hand writing slowly losing it’s curves / getting harder to focus on the paragraph 😋
Thank you so much for this hehehe
i got ya
Ward Willing
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Ford has a tendency to overwork himself some nights. You’ve been horny bored all night and he’s been down in his lab, so you do the only thing you can think of to get his attention.
Stanford Pines x reader
TAGS: 18+!! MDNI, smut, blowjobs, gender-neutral reader
─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───
Ford Pines is probably one of the most hardest working men you know.
He’s always cooped up in that damn lab of his, day or night, and it’s never really bothered you up until recently. He’d always come to bed a decent time—and if he was feeling up to it, he’d take care of you. Lately, he’s been working late into the night, and sometimes you didn’t have the energy to wait up for him.
Tonight, however, you need him. But he’s still working.
You toss and turn in the bed, slipping your hand down between your thighs to try and get yourself off, but it doesn’t work. You want him, right here, right now.
You groan into your pillow, looking up at the door with an idea a minute later. You smirk to yourself, crawling out of bed and hurry to the vending machine, punching in the code.
Ford doesn’t notice that you’re standing at the doorway, completely engrossed in writing. He started a new journal after the summer was over and he’s determined to fill it with all kinds of fascinating research. Usually, you’d be curious, but right now all you can see is him, those fingers, that wonderful thing between his thighs…
His hair is messy, glasses slipping down the slope of his nose, and his fingers impatiently tap at the table. His pen is stuck between his lips, lightly chewing on the end of it. (You don’t know how many pens he’s ruined since you’ve met him, but you know it’s a lot).
You walk up behind him, hands reaching out to rest in his shoulders. He jumps slightly, but slouches into your touch when he hears your voice. “Stressed, baby?”
He moans lazily in response but continues to write. You dig your thumbs into his shoulder blades, applying a small amount of pressure, just enough to see him falter a little, but his attention is still strictly on his task.
You roll your eyes, stepping around to the side of him. “Are you coming to bed soon?” You note the amount of coffee cups pushed out of his way. He had a weird thing about reusing cups, which resulted in his desktop having multiple ones scattered about at all times.
Ford gives you a nod but you know he’s running on autopilot right now.
Your gaze falls to his lap, then to the space under the desk, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face.
Dropping down to your knees, you quickly crawl underneath his desk, settling between his thighs. You push them open a little so you can be a bit more comfortable, your hands coming up to rub him.
“W-What are you doing?” Ford breathes, rolling back in the chair. His eyes are wide and his face is flushed.
You flash him your teeth, your fingers deftly playing with the zipper of his jeans. “Go back to writing, Ford,” you whisper.
“What? No. You know I can’t focus when you’re touching me like that.”
The bulge in his jeans is already becoming more apparent by the second, your stomaching fluttering in anticipation. While you’re able, you unbutton his jeans, dragging them down his hips with a little help from him and letting them pool around his ankles, his underwear following suit.
Your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s not entirely big length wise, but he’s thick, which makes up for the lack of a few inches. The tip is a shade of pink that matches his lips perfectly, and you lean forward to press a delicate kiss to it. He shutters from above.
“I don’t care. Go back to your work.”
He gives you a curious look, but does as you say. You hear him click his pen a couple times, the soft sound of ink meeting paper, and you giggle softly.
You poke your tongue out again, licking a long stride from base to tip. His thighs tense at the friction, but settle again. Your mouth wraps tenderly around the pink skin, the salty taste of precum exploding over your tongue. You moan quietly, the vibrations causing him to drop his pen for a quick second.
His breathing becomes audible, the sound of a soft whimper reaching your ears. You grin around his cock and sink lower, taking more and more until your nose is pressing against his navel. You hold your position there for a moment, popping off with a small gasp.
From above, Ford hasn’t been able to write more than three words.
You grin, wrapping your hand around the base as your mouth wraps around him again. You bob your head slowly, running your tongue against the underside of his cock in ways you know drive him crazy.
His leg twitches, hand reaching below the desk to burry it in your hair. He plays with the strands, pushing your head down slightly, silently begging for more. You can’t help but keen in response to his touch, obliging the request.
You flatten your tongue against the frenulum, curling it just enough to draw another whimper from the man above. Your ego blooms, prideful as you continue your ministrations.
Ford groans. “Doll, I-I can’t—” he cuts off with a moan when you suckle at the tip.
You lean back a little, gathering all the spit in your mouth and slowly letting it fall out of your mouth over Ford’s cock, the substance rolling over the tip and down his length. Your hand pumps him once, twice, a third time before you swallow him to the back of your throat.
He rolls his hips upward, causing you to gag at how deep he is. His fingers tangle in your hair, grabbing at your head and pulling up and down.
“I’m—fuck, dollface,” he groans.
You hear the sound of his pen falling, his journal snapping shut, before he leans back in his chair, eyeing you from your position. His eyes are glossy, glasses crookedly hanging on his face, and his cheeks a beautiful shade of cherry. He always looks so fucking sexy when he’s needy for you.
“I need more, baby. Please give me more.”
You nod weakly, your jaw slack as you bob your head. Spit dribbles down your chin, another moan muffled by the intrusion in your mouth.
It’s quite obscene, really. But you enjoy it nonetheless.
His quiet whimpers turn into rough moans, waves of iron-hot pleasure dripping down your spine as you work your mouth over the sensitive flesh, your own sounds a little garbled by the sheer amout of spit building under your tongue.
You flick the tip of the flesh, your teeth grazing softly against the underside, adoring the way Ford shivers beneath you. It’s vulgar; you enjoy it a bit too much, your own arousal causing you to lose yourself in the blissfulness of it all.
You pop off with a throaty moan, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. You meet his hungry gaze for a moment, smiling sweetly at him.
“I want you to start coming to bed at a decent time. Or I’ll be down here every night to interrupt your work,” you say, lazily stroking his cock.
He huffs a laugh. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, doll.”
You roll your eyes at him, slipping him back into your mouth. This time you pick up your pace, jerking him off in tandem of your tongue rolling all over. He preens at the friction, his head lolling back on his chair, mouth parted to allow a plethora of whimpers and moans to escape the back of his throat.
His chest heaves, all six of his fingers grabbing at your hair. “Fuck, fuck. I’m gonna cum, doll. Please don’t stop.”
At his confession, you go harder, slurping and sucking, his grip teetering on the edge of blatantly painful. He catches your eyes again, the sight alone making him explode in your mouth, whimpering softly.
The taste of his cum is salty yet sweet and you swallow it all, a generous smile on your face as you pop your lips off the sensitive tip. He shutters, moving his hand from his hair to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.
“That was amazing, baby. Your mouth never ceases to impress me.”
You blush. “Thank you…”
You slide out from underneath the desk, the man fixing his pants before standing up as well. In a quick motion, he has you pinned against the edge of the wood, his mouth on yours, devouring you whole. You whimper into his mouth.
“Now,” he nips at your bottom lip, “your turn.”
~
hope you enjoyed, ty for reading!!
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luvlucia · 2 months ago
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shhh - enhypen hyung line
summary: enhypen-hyung-line x reader - when enhypen tells you to quiet down during sex || warnings: intercourse, reader gets insecure, no explicit mentions of protection || genre: smut, fluff, angst, established relationship || word count: approximately 1.5k || a/n: see the request here!
lee heeseung 이희승
You were on all fours, your face smushed against his pillow as he fucked you from behind. The members weren't home but they would be coming home any minute now.
"Shhh, you're being too loud, babe. They could come home any minute now and you don't want them to know we're doing this, do you?" He says in a soft voice as he grips your hips harder.
"Sorry..." You say as you bite your lip, holding back from whatever sounds your body wants you to make.
The next time you had sex, it was late and night and the both of you were sleepy so he didn't think much of you being awfully quiet since he figured it was just because you were tired.
When you were quieter than usual the time after that, he had to say something.
"Why are you being so quiet?" He bluntly asked as you sat on his lap, his head resting against his headboard as he moved your hips against him, not stopping.
"I don't want to be too loud..." You respond, chest heaving.
"Oh, come on. Don't be like that." Heeseung said as he lifted his hips, his tip hitting you deeply, causing you to let out a particularly loud moan. "See, that's what I like to hear." He told you, wanting to make you feel better.
You gripped his shoulder, biting your lip. Heeseung moved a hand up to your face, gently gripping your jaw, not allowing you to close your mouth as he lifted his hips again, making you let out another loud moan.
"Come on. Don't be shy, pretty." He said.
park jongseong 박종성
Jay had told you to quiet down a little one day during sex because it was late at night and the other members were sleeping. He didn't have any ill intentions with it, he simply didn't want to wake the others up. Your brain immediately had you thinking the worst about it and you couldn't seem to let it go.
The next few times the two of you fucked, you were really quiet, almost silent at times, whether you had to be or not. Jay didn't say anything at first but when the two of you were at your place, the house was completely empty as you bounced on his lap, his hands gripping onto your hips as you stabilized yourself using the couch cushion behind him, meanwhile being mostly quiet, he couldn't take it anymore.
He held you down and stopped any type of movement happening between the two of you. You whined at the loss of contact as you looked at him.
"What's wrong?" You ask.
"I should be asking you that." Jay said. "What's been up with you lately? Have I been doing something wrong? Have I not been making you feel good?" He then rambled, really concerned about this whole thing.
"What? Of course, you make me feel good." You retort, and that was the truth.
"Then why have you been so quiet?" Jay asked.
You're silent for a few moments, "I just... I know I can be a little loud sometimes and can be a little... annoying." You shrug a little.
His gaze softens as his hands come up to your waist, softly squeezing you comfortingly, "Baby, you don't have to always be quiet. I love hearing you. It's never annoying." He told you.
"It's just... you told me to quiet down one day, so I thought you didn't like it." You explain.
"Sweetheart, I love it so much. I want to hear from you always but there are some situations where we have to be a little quieter. Not just you, the both of us. That doesn't mean I don't wish I could hear you all the time." Jay says before leaning in and pecking your lips. "Now come on, don't hold back." He says as his hands go back down to your hips and he slowly starts to move you up and down on his cock.
sim jaeyun 심재윤
Jake wasn't exactly the quiet type during sex. He wasn't ashamed to be loud. The thing was, in this situation, the two of you had to be quiet. The two of you were hanging out with the members when one thing led to another and Jake and you were sneaking away to the bathroom to release whatever sexual tension that'd built up with you sitting on his lap on the couch as everyone watched a movie together.
He had you bent over the sink counter as he fucked you from behind. He bit down on his lower lip as he did his best to not make a sound. It was hard enough for him to not go so hard as to not have your bodies make too much noise.
You were doing fine with being quiet as well. That was until he started to hit a certain spot. You found yourself moaning out loudly in pleasure.
Jake immediately clasped his hand over your mouth as he continued to fuck into you.
"Shhhh. Being too loud, princess." He breathed out.
Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you bite down harshly on your lip and make sure to barely make a sound the rest of the time.
The next time the two of you fucked, the dorm was completely empty besides the two of you so you were free to make as much noise as you wanted. You weren't though, you were barely making a peep which was unlike you.
You were lying on your back as Jake lay over you, his body weight pressing against you as he thrust into you. When he noticed you were being unusually quiet, his movement faltered, slowing down as he cupped your face with his rough hand.
"Do you not feel good, baby?" He softly asked, the room full of your breathy pants.
"I do." You reassured him.
"Then what's wrong? Why are you being so quiet?" Jake questioned further, his hips halting.
"I... I just didn't want to be too loud." You tell him.
Jake immediately knew why you were saying that and he found himself letting out a sigh. "Princess... you can be as loud as you want. I don't want you to be quiet. I just said that the other day because the members were in the dorm. You know I love your pretty noises." He softly says, wanting to make you feel better.
"You sure?" You ask as you look up at him.
"I'm positive. It's not like I'm the quietest either." Jake teased, lightening the mood.
"That's true." You giggled.
"Now, come on. Make as much noise as you want." He said before leaning down and kissing you, his hips slowly started to move against you again.
park sunghoon 박성훈
Sunghoon wasn't exactly the loud type during sex, mostly staying quiet except for when he's dirty talking and letting out occasional grunts and groans. So, you were already a little insecure about being loud but Sunghoon had never said anything before so you never thought much of it.
That was until one day, you were both in the shower together after you spent the night at the dorm. It had started off as an innocent chaste shower together. That was until you'd bent down to wash your legs and suddenly, your chest was pressed against the slippery shower wall as Sunghoon held you close and fucked into you from behind.
It felt particularly good and you were being so loud. Sunghoon knew the shower water along with the fan would block some of the noise but when he heard the sounds of the member's voices outside of the bathroom, he covered your mouth.
"Shhh, quiet down a little." Sunghoon said and suddenly, you were feeling completely self-conscious.
The next time the two of you were having sex, Sunghoon noticed your quietness right away. It didn't take him long at all. He'd grown so used to hearing your pretty sounds as he made you feel good, when you weren't being your loud self, he had a problem.
"You mad at me, doll?" He asked as he continued to fuck you, looking down at you, some of his hair sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead.
"N-no. Why?" You managed to mutter out.
"Then, why are you being so quiet?" He questioned.
"I don't want to be too loud." You explained. "The members are sleeping."
"Fine, but you don't have to be practically silent." He said firmly.
"I thought you'd want me to be that quiet." You respond, not even realizing the attitude in your tone.
Sunghoon was slightly amused, "I don't want you to be quiet. I never want you to be. Sometimes, you just have to be." Sunghoon says. "Quiet doesn't mean silent, though, doll." He adds.
Before you even had a chance to respond, he was picking up his speed as he leaned down and kissed your neck. He then finally heard the sound of your quiet moans and sighs, making him smile against your neck as he continued what he was doing.
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d0rothydraws · 2 months ago
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Reader gets attacked on the way home from work late at night.
content: f!reader, violence, possessiveness, murder, blood, after care, fingering, sweet talk, sex.
w/c: 2.2k
Ao3: Here
a/n: I have like 3 other fics im working on, one being where he helps you on your period but apparently thats too soft for my brain because it told me that I needed to write something where Sylus kills for you because I wanted to feel something. Please read the content descriptions, If you aren't comfortable with violence, you can skip to after the break.
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It was late, work went longer than expected and you were exhausted. Usually, Sylus would pick you up when it was this late but he had what he called a "non negotiable meeting". He offered to have Luke or Kieran pick you up or order a ride but you refused, stubborn as ever. You were a capable hunter, and besides you've done this walk hundreds of times before. Though, even yet, if Sylus couldn't be there, he did everything in his power to make sure you were safe.
The sound of the mechanical bird's wings was loud in your ears as Mephisto landed on your shoulder, Its eyes shining in the dark, almost like Sylus' himself. "You were waiting." You mumbled as you turned the corner to set off on your journey. Mephisto just turned its head slightly, ruffling its feathers.
A few minutes passed and you heard footsteps behind you. Your shoulders tensed as you put a hand on your gun. You weren't sure what happened, it happened so fast as the steps grew louder, faster. More steps than you could count. An ambush. Your body moved on its own as you turned to try and shoot at one of the men, at any of them. Your gun going off as your body hit the ground. Mephisto flew at them, his razor sharp beak aiming at their eyes. While he did manage to harm one of the attackers, the other two were still surrounding you as the third slapped the crow away.
"What's a pretty little thing doing out this late." One of the men said, pulling a knife out as they watched you try to reach your gun that was just out of arm's reach. Before you could grab your backup plan, the smaller gun Sylus had given you for emergencies, the second man stepped on your hand, making you scream in pain as you were immobilized.
"Eat shit." You hissed, not giving up the fight as you squirmed under them, trying to throw them off of you as the one holding the knife straddled your hips. You spit at him, and in return, he grabbed your jaw. His other hand held the knife against your throat. You refused to show the fear in your eyes as you felt the steel kiss your skin.
"You're too pretty to be using words like that, princess." The man spit. You tried to throw him off of you but the knife pressed harder into your neck. "Keep going and you won't be saying anything soon."
"That fuckin bird got my eye boss! Can't see shit." The third man said, trying to cover his eye to stop the bleeding. The second man spoke up in a mocking tone. "Suck it up, you got another one don't ya? Anyways, ya won't need to see in order to hear the sounds she's gonna make when we-"
The alley filled with black and red smoke. Your heart raced as you heard the sound of Mephisto, and then- "You should know better than to touch what isn't yours." Sylus said calmly, appearing through the smoke as the red and black coils snaked around the men's necks, lifting them in the air. You couldn't move, your body felt paralyzed from the attack. You could only lay there as you watched Sylus approach as the men were raised higher and higher. He looked calm but there was an anger behind those eyes, a fury. Your heart raced, the sounds of the three men that attacked you background noise as your eyes locked with Sylus. Slowly he leaned down to help you up, his touch gentle yet you could feel how tense he was.
One by one the men fell from the sky, each tendril releasing them one by one. As each of the bodies fell from extreme heights, their cries were silenced on impact. Falling to their death efficiently. You didn't see the bodies, barely heard the sound, as Sylus pulled you into his chest, blinding you from the event. You could hear his heart racing, his lips against your ear to cover the sound behind you. "I'm sorry I took so long, sweetie." He said, his voice tense as he rubbed your back slowly as if checking for injuries. "Let's get you cleaned up." He muttered as the coils wrapped around the both of you. It felt surprisingly warm, like a warm gust of summer air. In moments it was as if you were flying, being guided across the city and through the N109 Zone back to his home.
▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬
The night was a blur, you felt numb, mentally and physically. Sylus didn't say too much, there was a look in his eye that you have never seen before. His touches were soft as he helped bathe you, cleaning the grime and dirt off of you, paying extra attention to the areas that the men touched as if to replace the memory.
After you were clean, he helped change you. A fresh set of soft pajamas, your favorite cozy fluffy socks to add to it. Slowly, he lead you to the bed. The smell of him filling your senses as you laid down. The images of tonight filled your mind, the faces of the men. How fast everything happened. The feeling of that knife against your throat. Your heart started beating faster as your body tensed slightly.
Strong arms wrapped around you, settling behind you on the bed as he pulled you close against him. He tangled his legs with yours as his hands gently rubbed circles against your skin. His lips against your ear as his words cleared your mind like a prayer.
"It's ok. Nobody will ever touch you again, you're mine. And I'll make sure of that." He whispered, his words sincere as he kissed your ear. "I'll make you forget everything that happened today." He said as his hand dipped under the band of your pajama pants trailing the curve of your hip.
You felt your mind start to melt as you focused on his words, his touch. The smell of sandalwood and bourbon against your nose as the feeling of his hand made you shiver. You felt like you were in his embrace for hours as he whispered into your ear, his hand teasing and grazing your skin gently but with purpose.
His other hand moved under your shirt, trailing up until he reached your chest. Slowly, he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. His lips moved to your neck, kissing the skin softly before nipping, leaving small red marks down to your shoulder. His hand dipped under the band of your underwear, pads of his fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs. You gasped softly, a hand moving around to curl into his hair, pulling his lips closer into your skin where he purred in approval.
"That's it kitten, feel every bit of what I do to you." He whispered, voice hot from the feeling of your hand in his hair. "You're doing so well, I love how you shiver when I touch you like this." He said as a finger pushed inside you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you arched against the hand, moving your hips slightly only for his legs to tighten more, still tangled in yours. "Shh, relax. Don't rush, just enjoy it sweetie."
You felt your body tingle at each touch, each word he spoke into your ear. Your moans became louder, a second finger, and then a third thrusting into you at a slow, deep pace. You gasped his name softly, feeling your core tighten as his thumb brushed against your clit. "That's it sweetie, say my name." His voice practically vibrated in his chest, the praise making you clench around the fingers, earning a soft sound of his own pleasure from him. You could feel how this was affecting him against your back. His pants tight from his cock straining the seam.
You couldn't take it anymore, the feeling of him overwhelmed you. Your body clenched around his hand harder, pulling him closer as his thumb pressed against your clit, the friction much needed as your body tensed, a soft cry of pleasure erupting from your throat as you arched back against his chest.
Gently he pulled his fingers from you and to his lips as he tasted you. A low sound rumbled in his throat at your taste. "You always taste incredible, kitten." He said, his hands wrapping around you again, pulling you close as he nuzzled into your neck.
Your heart pounded, body craving more. You figured he didn't want to push you, considering tonight's events, wanting to focus on what you needed. But what you needed was him. You moved a hand behind you, finding the bulge that had been growing against your back since his touches began. He inhaled a sharp breath, slightly tensing before a soft chuckle tickled your ear. "Are you sure you aren't too tired? Tonight is about you." He said but didn't pull your hand away as you palmed him through his pants making him groan. You turned your body, facing him as you kept one hand on him, feeling him twitch under your hand and the other curled in his hair again. Your lips brushed against his.
"The only thing I want tonight is you." You breathed against his lips before kissing him. In an instant his hands were on you again, his body over you as he returned the kiss. It was slow, passionate. Usually his kisses were rough, fast. But tonight was different. Tonight he could have lost you. And it would have been his fault. He felt emotions he had never felt before as he moved your hands gently away from him, holding your wrists loosely with one hand as he pulled your pants down with the other. You helped kick them off once they got low enough. Pulling back from the kiss as you looked up at him.
After a few more minutes, touches and kisses, his own pants were discarded. He moved your legs onto his shoulders as your body was pulled down the bed, closer to him as he teased your entrance with his cock. You both moaned, shivering at the feeling as you looked up at him. You didn't need to beg, not tonight. He needed it just as much as you.
You felt him enter you, inch by inch as he stretched you. You felt every nerve in your body shoot with that sweet feeling. The stretch of his cock made your mouth open in a needy cry. His eyes watching your face, your reaction to him. It never grew old, seeing you shake in pleasure before he even began. He turned his head, leaving kisses on your calf and knee as his grip tightened around your thighs.
As he began to move your eyes closed, consumed by the pleasure of him. "I wish I could stay like this forever." You moaned, not even thinking as you said it. You didn't care, he felt too good and honestly, your words held truth. He chuckled slightly, the sound strained as he groaned in pleasure as you clenched around him. You felt him twitch inside you at your words, his thrusts getting slightly rougher.
"Keep talking like that kitten and I just might." He said, his voice rough as he lifted your hips slightly, thrusting down into you deeper. You cried out, hands moving to claw the bedsheets. "Seeing you moan under me, all needy. So wet and desperate for me. All mine." He purred as his thrusts got more irregular. Your heart pounded as you heard his words, your mind racing with thoughts and imagery that nearly pushed you over the edge.
His hand moved between your thighs, brushing against your clit again as he kissed your leg again, looking down at you. A thin layer of sweat was on his forehead, his hair clinging to the area. His face was blushed, his eyes glossy and lips parted and swollen. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him.
You felt him release deep inside you, the feeling sent you over the edge as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. The sound of heavy breath filled the room as he slowly pulled out, your legs feeling numb as he gently laid them down as he climbed back beside you, pulling you into his arms.
His kisses peppered your skin, his hands held you close as he felt you relax against his chest. After a while he would help clean you up again, but for now he wanted to cherish this time with you. There was no rush. And tomorrow? Tomorrow was reserved for him to pamper you no matter what you wanted. He felt guilty for letting what happened happen tonight. He would never tell you, he knew you would know from the extra displays of gifts and affection. But nonetheless, he vowed to never let anything like that happen ever again.
No matter what. 
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valwrote · 10 months ago
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I am on hiatus because of exams but @danijaci you have pulled me out of it for today thanks to your biker!Wriothesley drawing. 😭😭💫💕🦋
Please allow me to add some words to your scrumptious art because I am obsessed with this man.
biker!Wriothesely x 9 to 5 job!reader.
not proof read i wrote this in 30 minutes and put it in queue.
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It was a wet day. The air was moist and puddles had formed around every corner. You walked with your files clutched under one arm, umbrella held in the other, sheltering you from the light drizzle that remained after the heavy downpour from a few hours ago.
Your clothes were recently washed and neatly ironed. Atleast they were till someone whizzed past you, splashing you with puddle water, soiling your clothes. You yelled curses at them, trying to brush away the water on your clothes which clearly was a futile attempt.
You turned around to walk home and get changed into a new pair of clothes till you noticed the biker who splashed water on you, was coming back. You came to halt as the biker parked their bike in front of you before pulling the visor of the helmet up.
You could see icy blue hues staring at you. The voice was muffled you could make out a 'sorry' in their sentence. "I can't understand what you are saying." You frowned, not pleased with the situation at all.
The biker removed their helmet to reveal a man, beautiful beyond comprehension. His hand reached up to fluff up his black locks which had been flattened by the helmet, while his other hand placed the helmet on the handle of the biker. He swiftly kicked the stand of his bike before making his way to you.
"I said I am sorry for splashing you with water. It was an accident and I should've been more careful." He sighed, assessing the damage caused by his recklessness.
"Oh it is fine, it will come off. The only problem is that I am late for work." You grimaced at the feeling of the clothes sticking against your skin. He seemed to have noticed that.
"How about I give you a ride back home and to your office? It'll save you time and in exchange of helping you, you'll forgive me. Sounds like a win-win." He offered. You hesitated since getting on a bike with a strange guy was complete violation of the stranger danger rul— screw it.
"I'll take you up on that offer."
"Great. One more thing.." he took off his jacket and leaned in to wrapped it around you. You took your time to admire the man while he was busy zipping the jacket up. After he was done he glanced up at you. There was an awkward silence, you could feel his body warmth radiate upon coming in proximity and—
"Let's go. The jacket will prevent you from feeling cold while riding on the bike." He walked over to his biker and mounted it. He gestured you to take a seat while strapping his helmet back on. He then handed you a spare and drove off.
Your life was usually dull. A boring 9 to 5 job, same old sceneries and same old people had made life monotonous, yet this moment of sitting on a bike with the cool air hitting your body, the vehicle effortlessly taking smooth twists and turns was an escape from all of that.
You had your arms wrapped around his waist. Part of your arm could feel his muscular built under the clothing. He was a gentleman, responsible, quick-witted and good looking. What more could a girl ask for—
"We are here." He dropped you off at your house. If only you knew that from that day, the strange man would become an inseparable part of your life.
biker!wriothesley who would drop you to your office and back everyday under the excuse that it will save you time and energy even though he simply wants to enjoy the warmth of your arms wrapped around him.
biker!wriothesley who would bring big bouquets of your favourite flower each week in hopes to impress you.
biker!wriothesley who steals you away from your friends to go on an impromptu outing with him.
biker!wriothesley who loves watching sunsets with you while sharing a pint of icecream.
biker!wriothesley who fell harder after you fell first.
biker!wriothesley who would feel happy even at the smallest biking related gift you get him. He is a strong believer of sincerity.
biker!wriothesley who always gives up his jacket whenever you feel cold and always puts your comfort first.
biker!wriothesley who was hesitant on confessing but eventually mustered the courage to do so.
"Hey big guy, why did you bring me here all of a sudden?" You enquired softly. Wriothesely was a man with many scars and a fragile heart. He only ever dragged you away when he was feeling upset.
"It's nothing. I am just- I have to come out clean about this.." he sighed, trying to face you. The sunset's beauty only made you look more captivating in his eyes than you already were.
Wriothesley had always been gentle with you. Ever since the day he splashed water on you, to the time where he accidentally hit you in the face with the helmet while tossing it to you, hoping you would catch it, uptill now.
He looked at you with endearment, sincerity and love. You were his solace in his adventurous life while he was your spark in your mundane one. You two were like puzzle pieces. Meant for eachother. Meant to complete one another.
"I like you. I find my thoughts drifting towards you all the time. I thought biking was my only passion, nothing could take my attention away from my love for bike riding but then you came and—" he cupped your face, his frost blue eyes spoke a thousand words which his mouth couldn't utter.
biker!wriothesley whose partner in crime (not literally) is you. He can confide in you about his problems and loves when you talk to him in biker terms.
biker!wriothesley who loves taking you on long drives. He loves exploring new places and seeing the smile that traveling brings to your face.
biker!wriothesley who flaunts you off to his biker buddies or 'gang' he named 'The Meropide' talking non stop about how amazing you are.
biker!wriothesley who teases you alot.
"Wriothesley- you have been cleaning your bike since the past 2 hours!" You complained, he treated that bike like royalty. Cleaning it, greasing it, getting air in the tires—
"You see sweetheart, I have to take care of my wife. I am simply spending quality time with her." He smirked at you.
"Oh yeah? Then what am I?" You asked, arms crossed across your chest.
"You are my mistress—"
You didn't let him touch you the entire day.
biker!wriothesley who gets all shy and clammy at physical intimacy, be it holding hands, hugging or stealing kisses.
biker!wriothesley who wouldn't trade you for the world. He holds you dear and the day he confessed to you, he had given a piece of his heart to you and vowed to always be by your side.
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this is so scuffed- I haven't written in so long especially in this format.
but hell do I not love wriothesley.
don't copy, plagiarize, repost.
©definitelysel
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jarofstyles · 3 months ago
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❛ come in me. i need you to fill me up. ❜
JEJE
This is late 😭 I wrote this a few days ago and forgot to post it… but it’s from the dialogue prompts I reblogged a bit ago and I felt like writing something!! 😃 and it’s dirty of course
This is from Illicit universe if you want to imagine that, or could be a standalone ❤️ and it’s pure filth
Check out our Patreon
Warnings- unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, the usual filth
——
Y/N mewled as she felt his cock filling her up. thorough, deep, hot, her face felt hot as he pressed down on her tummy. “Holy fuck.” The whimper resonated through their bedroom, along with the wet slap of skin and the soft sound of her little gasps and his grunts.
Harry's eyes rolled back as he felt her clenching around his cock, the sound of her mewling and whimpering driving him wild. It always did. He gripped firmly, fucking into her with his deep thrusts. Feeling every inch of her was what he needed more than anything. "Fuck, baby… fuck, I needed you." Harry's eyes rolled back, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he felt his cock filling her tight, wet pussy over and over again. It had been too long without it. He liked his job, but being away from her for business trips was becoming increasingly hard. Keeping his hand pressed firm on her stomach, his eyes refocused as her tits bounced with each thrust.
His length felt thick inside of her, stretching her cunt to its limits. It had been weeks since he’d been inside of her and it was showing with how she felt when he pushed inside. With each thrust, he filled her up completely, making her feel full to the brim with his hot, throbbing prick. The goal was always to make her feel good, full, satiated.
“Did you miss it?” Y/N panted, peering up at him with a loaded gaze. “Did you miss my cunt while you were away, H?”
Harry groaned at the dirty talk, his cock twitching inside of her. “Shit, angel... So much. You’ve got no fuckin’ idea. I couldn't stop thinking about it." He shifted his hips, changing the angle and hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made her gasp and tighten around him even more.
“What did you think about?” she needed to know. their phone sex hadn’t been as frequent as she wanted, but he was making it up to her now. Giving her exactly what he knew she’d need.
Harry's breath hitched as he thought back to their phone calls. They were good, anything was with his love, but nothing could compare to the real thing. Flesh against flesh, the taste, the sounds… "I thought about fucking you in the shower, bending you over the sink and pounding you out until the water turned cold." He thrust harder, the headboard jostling a bit as he looked down at the pretty cunt he had missed so desperately. “Had the perfect bathroom and no pretty little slut t’fuck full. S’a goddamn shame…”
“Shit.” Y/N whined, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist. “I know you hate wasting cum, baby. M’sorry I wasn’t there for you to have when you got worked up. Next time you’ll just have t’take me with you.”
Harry grunted, making a note of that. No trips for that long without her again. He would have to ensure she was there next time. Pay for her his damn self if they cared about him taking a plus one. Clingy? Maybe. But she was his god damn soul mate and he needed her. "I fucking hate it when you're not there, Y/N. I end up jerking off in the shower, imagining it's your tight little cunt I'm fucking." His lips ghosted hers. “It all belongs inside of you.”
Y/N's back arched off the bed, her nails digging into Harry's back as he thrust into her harder and spoke dirty words to her. Hazy eyes glazed over with pleasure at his words. Her legs pulled him closer, trying to get deeper, deeper, deeper.
“Put it in me then.” She coaxed. “I missed it just as much. Hate feeling empty.” Her body loved every single bit of him, getting off on the mere grazes of his fingers but the desperation he showed had her dripping around him. Call her selfish but she wanted everything. “Cum in me. Need you t’fill me up. Give me what you’ve been holding back.” She mewled. “I want it.”
Harry's control snapped at her words, his body reacting to the request before his brain could connect. It wasn’t his normal, but the combination of how good she felt, how long it had been and her words had shot the target. He slammed into her one last time before stilling deep inside her. His hips jerked a few times as he unloaded his heavy balls deep into her spasming cunt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! M’sorry baby, I couldn’t hold it.” He slurred, body shaking slightly, mouth slack. Her orgasm usually came first, but she had triggered it without giving him warning. “I jus’ fucking missed you so much…”
Harry's cum shot deep into her, filling her cunt to the brim with hot, thick ropes of his essence. It overflowed slightly from around their joined bodies, running down her ass and onto the bed. Filthy, messy, completely them. His cock twitched and throbbed inside of his girl, each pulse sending another spurt of cum deep into her, filling the primal need. He panted, kissing her between inhales as his cum continued to ooze out of her. “M’sorry baby. I’ll take care of you in a second.”
Arms wrapped around Harry, holding him close as she pulled his face against her neck. Soft strokes to his hair followed whispered soothing words as he caught his breath. In all honesty? She found it incredibly hot that he had lost control like that, pouring his heart and cum into her without hesitation. It was a compliment. “It’s okay, baby.” Comforting him was instinct. “I know you’ll take care of me. wanted your cum so bad anyway…” She kissed the side of his head, letting him catch his breath. “Think you have some more for me?”
Greedy, greedy. Always needy. It’s something he utterly loved about her.
Harry groaned against her neck before slowly pulling from her heated channel. White cum dribbled down her ass as he grinned sheepishly at her question. “Maybe.” He gave her a sly little smile, licking his lips as she pulled his mouth down for a kiss. “Let me clean you up with my tongue n’food and give you your own orgasm first. Need you t’be taken care of.”
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junkissed · 1 year ago
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can't get you out of my head
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member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am
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the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.
the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.
it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 
he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.
so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 
like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.
the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.
one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.
your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.
you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.
your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.
you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.
if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—
before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.
he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.
the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.
so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 
maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…
… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?
well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.
you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.
you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.
for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.
he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.
you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 
he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.
but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.
he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.
but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 
he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.
he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.
sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.
if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.
you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.
throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.
he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.
you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.
it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.
you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.
without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.
you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 
the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.
he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.
you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.
this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.
he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.
"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.
it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.
it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 
"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"
your breath catches a little. "yeah?"
"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."
and just like that, things make sense. 
"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.
everything is so simple with hansol.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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