#i had so much tequila last night | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

likeumeanit9497 · 2 months ago

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i know you know | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: after a night at a party, matt hears his best friend sleeping with someone. the memory of it overtakes him all the next day, and he can't get it off his mind. but what happens when it turns out that she wanted him to hear all along?

warnings: SMUT (holy fuck this is smutty); established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); unprotected p in v (don't do this); absolutely filthy talk; voyeurism vibes; switch!matt; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: guys i fear i might have just written my new fave one shot. i warned y'all that i only have matt ideas rn, but this one is SO GOOD i had to post immediately. i normally don't go feral for my own writing but this one made me get up and do a few laps around the house tbh. i hope y'all like it as much as i liked writing it LOVE U LOVE U LOVE U MUAH

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“Matt?” You called his name as you began climbing up his front steps. “Hey, I’m doing laundry.” His voice rang through the house, and as you entered the empty kitchen you saw his back in the hallway as he folded a pair of jeans and placed them on the neat pile of clean laundry stacked on top of the washing machine. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment half in greeting and half to help ease the pounding in your heavy head.

“Last night almost killed me. How are you feeling?” You asked him, lifting your head off of his shoulder so that he could face you. His eyes were tired, his hair was a mess, but there was a slight glint of curiosity in his eyes that caught you off guard. After staring at you for a moment too long, he replied. “I feel alright. Slept most of the day though.” You released a soft laugh.

Last night, you and Matt went to a big party for one of your mutual friends. What was supposed to be an early night — both of you agreeing to show face for an hour and then head home — turned into one filled with dancing, too much tequila, and a night spent on the couch of the host for you both. Once you were both sober in the morning, Matt drove you home and you both tended to your own hangovers for the rest of the day. Now it was Sunday evening, and you two decided to spend it watching a movie and eating shitty food.

“Same here,” You replied, “I literally rolled out of bed 30 minutes ago. You’re lucky I even had enough energy to drive over here.” You leaned against the running dryer, and watched as one of Matt’s eyebrows arched as he continued folding clothes. “Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He replied, a smile threatening to creep over his mouth. Noticing the knowing tone in his voice, you grew confused.

What you didn’t know, was that Matt knew that it wasn’t just the two of you who had spent the night on that sectional couch. He had noticed you spending a lot of time with Carrington, a good friend of the host. He watched the two of you throughout the night — he saw you touch him any chance you got; saw you dance on him once you got really drunk; and most definitely saw you press your lips to his at the end of the night. So, late last night as he tried his best to sleep, when he heard the creek of the stairs and felt the dip in the couch, he knew that Carrington had laid down with you. That was confirmed when he heard the soft whispers that you two shared before the sound of wet kisses filled the dark room. A moment later, he laid as still as he could as he felt the couch begin to move in a rhythm that could only mean one thing.

Although you and Matt had the type of strong friendship where you both felt comfortable telling the other about your sex lives, never before had either of you been so close in proximity to the act itself. Although he was facing the opposite direction, Matt knew that your feet were only centimetres from his head, and the thought of invading your privacy like this, albeit unintentional, made his cheeks flush red. Even in his belligerent state, Matt had been shocked, and he considered making the fact that he was still awake known. Until he heard it.

Your soft moans floated like music in his mind, and they were unlike anything he had heard before. They were angelic, breathless; as if the air was being pushed out of your lungs involuntarily to create the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. The heat that he felt in his cheeks immediately began travelling down his body, right to his growing member. And then, the unmistakable wet sounds of your arousal — surely dripping from you not more than two feet away from his ear — caused his head to spin. The two sounds radiating from you created the perfect harmony, and they made his cock press excruciatingly against his stomach; desperate for some relief.

The movement of the couch — and with it, your moans and wetness — increased in speed. As it did, your soft voice, so familiar and divine, whispered into the quiet room, “I’m gonna cum!” Matt pressed his pelvis into the couch, doing his best to relieve some of the pressure he felt in the tip of his cock. As your moans got louder, his heart pounded faster. Suddenly, as you reached your orgasm and began riding the waves, he felt one of your feet lightly graze his bare back. Goosebumps immediately rose on his skin, and the slight contact in combination with everything he heard was so intense that he thought he was going to cum all over himself.

But just then, the room grew painfully silent once again. After some time, the indistinguishable whispering returned, then the sound of one quick kiss, and finally, the creaking sound of the stairs. You two were alone once again, and in the silence Matt began to question whether or not he had dreamt it all. That was, until he heard your soft voice whisper his name. Immediately, he felt his body react, but stayed as still as possible so that you would think he was asleep. He seemed to do a good enough job, as after not getting a response, you slowly got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Once he heard the door click shut, his eyes shot open. The air was filled with the addictive smell of sex, and his cock had grown so hard that it was throbbing. Tentatively, he ran his hand along his shaft still in his boxers and had to stifle a guttural moan from the brief contact. No, he couldn’t do this here. Not when you were in the next room able to walk back through the door at any moment. He didn’t want you to think he was a creep. He would just have to try to get to sleep, and deal with his spiralling brain tomorrow.

Well, now it was tomorrow, and he had spent the entire day thinking about it. When he had woken up to your smiling face asking for a ride home, he had felt riddled with guilt; as if he had taken advantage of you. The guilt was only exemplified when, once he was alone, he had spent every minute thinking about it; his dick growing hard every time he heard your moans in the back of his mind. Even as he slept the day away, he had dreams about it and had even woken himself up by grinding his hips against his mattress. It had been driving him crazy, and now you were standing in front of him, seemingly oblivious to everything that had been running through his mind, and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Hello? Earth to Matt?” Your voice pulled him out of his train of thought, and immediately his cheeks flushed when he realized that he had been completely zoned out for god knows how long. “Oh, uh, sorry.” He mumbled, folding the shirt he had in his hands. “You’ve deadass folded and re-folded that shirt like five times. Are you okay?” You asked, concern etched across your face. Gulping, Matt nodded his head. “Shit really? Must be the brain fog.” He forced out a laugh that sounded painful to his own ears, but it seemed to be convincing enough for you, as you once again relaxed against the dryer.

Matt’s focus went back to the pile of clothes in front of him, and as he began organizing the pile of socks, he heard what he had been reimagining over and over again in his mind. That now achingly familiar soft moan of yours. His whole body jolted in shock, the sound much more vivid than it had been in his memory. Slowly, his eyes were pulled from the laundry to your face, and he found your eyes shut in ecstasy as you leaned against the running dryer. His jaw almost dropped at the sight, and his cock, already having been on high alert all day, immediately responded.

“This feels so good.” You whispered, just as you had the night before, and Matt had to brace himself against the washing machine to stay upright. Your eyes were still closed, a small smile crept onto your full lips, and in that moment it all became too much for him. His cock was pulsing in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat, and as you released another small moan and bit your bottom lip, he began to wonder if maybe — just maybe — you had wanted him to hear you last night.

His hunch grew stronger and stronger as he continued to take in your expression with your back pressed against the dryer, and he felt the shame strip off of him as your hooded eyes finally opened slowly. They landed on his dilated eyes and slowly trailed down to the impressive bulge in his pants. Looking back up at his flushed face, you couldn’t help but smile shamelessly. Because he had been right.

It hadn’t been planned, of course, but once Carrington pushed himself into you, the thought of Matt being just on the other side of the couch filled you with a new and unfamiliar level of arousal. So as you moaned, you hoped that he would hear it. The thought of him listening caused you to grow more wet than you ever had before, and it didn’t take long for you to finish. As you came, you purposefully brushed your foot against him; trying to let him know that it was him you were thinking about as you unraveled.

You hadn’t been sure that he heard you, after all when you whispered his name he hadn’t answered, but the way he had been acting since you arrived at his house today — zoning out, avoiding eye contact, and seeming extremely flustered — you know that he knows. And knowing the effect it had on him, you want him to do something about it.

Matt watched as you put both hands on the dryer before hoisting yourself up to sit on it. With the dryer running, the vibration that came from it shot right to your core, and subconsciously your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Matt watched, completely stunned, as you pleasured yourself on top of the dryer. He was in such a state of shock that he wasn’t even sure if this was real life. You rolled your hips once, twice, against the machine, and then suddenly your eyes were on him again. The pleasure you were experiencing was etched into your face — your full lips a dark shade of red, dark eyebrows knit together, pink cheeks flushed — and it drove him crazy. But it wasn’t until your lips turned up in a small smile and you grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you, that he was finally able to move.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you.” You finally regarded the elephant in the room, and watched as his eyes bulged slightly in surprise at your knowing gaze. Very slightly, he nodded his head; his eyes were planted on your lips. “Should we talk about it?” You asked, dragging your fingertips up and down his torso slowly; feeling his stomach tense each time you reached below his belly button. Still hypnotized by your lips, Matt placed his hands on each side of your face before shaking his head no.

Without hesitation, he engulfed your mouth with his own. They moved with a quivering desperation that can’t be sufficiently described with words. His hands ran through your hair, pulling you as close to him as he could. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, gasping at the feeling of his rock hard member pressing against your aching core. It seemed to affect him too, because as soon as they made contact a small grunt fell from his lips and landed on yours.

Matt’s hands eventually moved from your hair and snaked down to your waist, where he quickly pulled your loose-fitting sundress up and exposed your bare tits. You watched as he took a moment to admire their fullness before bringing his mouth to one. He nibbled and sucked on your sensitive nipple, shooting rays of pleasure down your spine. As he moved his mouth to your second tit, he gripped harshly onto your hips. With his grasp, he expertly titled your pelvis in such a way where your cunt was pressed directly against the dryer; causing moans to spill from your mouth from the vibration.

As he helped you roll your hips against the warm metal, he struggled to keep his composure as he heard you moan for himfor the first time. Just like last night, they were soft and breathy, as if you didn’t even notice them falling from your lips. But his ears caught every single one, and they drove him crazier each time. Looking down to where your body connected with the machine, his vision grew blurry as he noticed the fluid that had accumulated on top of the dryer; the same fluid that he had heard last night. “Mmm, so wet already?” He managed to purr in your ear, causing you to shudder in pleasure.

You nodded, letting your head fall back as the pleasure intensified by his words. “F-for you Matt— fuck! — all f-for you.” At your words, Matt stopped all of his movements, afraid that he would fall apart in seconds if you kept speaking like that. Looking up at your disoriented face, he noticed that the loss of friction was making you antsy. You hooked a small finger in his chain and pulled his lips to yours; kissing him deeply as his tongue swiped against your teeth begging for entrance. You pulled away, needing more than a kiss, and watched in awe as Matt read your mind and dropped to his knees in front of you. He brought his hands up to your hips where he grabbed onto the sides of your thong, slowly sliding it down your legs.

You watched, chest heaving, as he tossed your discarded thong into his pile of laundry that still needed to be washed without letting his eyes leave your dripping core. His eyes on you like this was exactly what you imagined as you thought of him last night, and the neediness in his blue eyes threw you into an erotic frenzy. He grabbed both of your legs and, after stroking them thoughtlessly for a few seconds, placed them on both of his shoulders. Eyes flittering between your core and your face, he spoke, “Need a taste.” His voice was gruff with arousal, and you responded by lacing your hands through his hair and pushing his beautiful face in between your legs.

As soon as his tongue ran up your slit to collect your arousal, he lost any hint of sanity that he still had. You were so sweet against his tastebuds, and so soft against his lips, it took everything out of him to not cream his pants. Instead, he effortlessly found your aching clit and began sucking and kissing the sensitive bundle of nerves. Already stimulated by the dryer, you felt yourself melt under the pressure of his tongue. He couldn’t stop himself from moaning against you, causing the vibration to echo through your entire body. You mindlessly began grinding yourself against his face, chasing a high so intense that nothing else seemed to matter.

Matt relished in the feeling of suffocating by you, and used his hands to spread you apart. He pulled away for a brief moment to take a look at you stretched open for him, and the sight of your dripping hole — begging, without words, to be filled — made him want to pull his cock out and slam it into you immediately. But no, he was going to savour this. So instead, he spit onto your cunt and began tongue fucking your hole. As he eagerly drank up all your juices, his tongue moving in and out of you quickly, you lost the ability to stifle your moans.

Even though he knew you were getting too loud — after all, Nick and Chris were somewhere in the house — Matt couldn’t get himself to shut you up. The sounds that fell from your lips were like music to his ears, and he wanted to listen to them forever. Besides, how could he tell you that you were being too loud when he was making all sorts of erotic noises with his mouth against your cunt?

Your head fell back against the dryer, it wouldn’t be long until you came. The build up was so intense, so good, that you almost didn’t want it to end. Plus, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Matt’s poor cock, suffocating in his pants. As you imagined it, veiny and dark red at the tip, your mouth began to water. After coming back from the washroom and getting back on the couch last night, you glanced at Matt’s still frame and wondered if — even subconsciously, if he hadbeen sleeping — his body had reacted to what had happened. Your suspicion was furthered the next morning. When you went to wake him up to ask if he could drive you home, the blanket had slipped off of his lower body and exposed the imprint of his hardened cock; and your mouth watered. Since then, you had fantasized about taking all of him in your mouth as an apology for not helping him out that morning.

These thoughts raced through your bleary mind, and the pressure continued to increase in your lower stomach at Matt’s relentless tongue in between your legs. You wanted to cum, badly, but even more than that you wanted to get a taste of him. Just the thought of his warm cock in your throat caused your back to arch and a moan to slip from your lips, so in a frenzy you grabbed his jaw and pulled his mouth from your core. Cool air quickly replaced his warm tongue, and you cringed at the loss of contact. Matt looked up at you, his eyes hooded in contentment and his lips and chin coated with your arousal. “What’s wrong?” He asked, taking in your expression.

Without saying anything, you turned your body so that you were now facing the wall behind the dryer. Carefully, you lowered your torso so that you were now laying against the machine, legs bent and facing away from Matt; your view now being his frame upside down. Confused, Matt took a few steps back so that he could look at your face. You lock eyes with him, and he chuckles softly. “What are you doing?” His voice is still deeper than usual, and your view of his bulge makes it clear that he is in desperate need of you. “Want you to fuck my throat.” You replied simply, watching as his eyes darken in arousal while his eyebrows knit together in relief.

Without hesitation, Matt begins frantically removing his grey sweatpants. His cock has been achingly hard since last night with little to no relief, and your words shot straight to it. The filthy talk falling from your lips was still so foreign to him, but that unfamiliarity was addicting. He pulled his boxers down and finally freed his cock from its restraint, and even the feeling of it slapping his stomach on release was enough to make him shudder in pleasure.

As soon as your eyes fell to his exposed cock, your mouth watered. It was so perfect, so plump, you couldn’t wait to wrap your lips around it. As he took a step forward, you impatiently opened your mouth wide; not wanting to wait another second. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, and after tapping your mouth with his cock twice, he slides just the tip in. Already, the feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him causes him to see stars, and he doesn’t even move for a few moments as you swirl your tongue around his tip. You find the bead of pre-cum dripping from his slit, and lap it up indulgently.

You want more of him, so in a desperate act you begin trying to bob your head while upside down in order to travel down his shaft. Your desperation gets to Matt, and, recognizing that you want more of him, he begins thrusting his hips slowly into your mouth. Even with only half of him in your mouth, you can feel his tip hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, and all it does is make you want more. You wrap your lips as tightly as you can around his girth, and the hushed groans that fall from his lips tell you that he’s enjoying himself.

You begin to grow frustrated, not content with the fact that you haven’t had all of him in your mouth yet. So you reach up and grab firmly on his hips, opening your throat to allow his entire length access as you pushed him forward. Matt hissed, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock sinking deeper into your throat, and that was when he lost all control.

Matt grabbed onto the sides of your neck to brace himself before finally driving his cock all the way down your throat. He started slow, sliding it all the way down, holding it in place for a moment, and then pulling it nearly all the way out before doing it all over again; but once he realized that not only could you take all of him, but that you also enjoyed it, he started picking up the pace. He watched your throat as he fucked it, and noticed that he could actually see his cock going all the way down it; causing his vision to go blurry. “Fuck, baby.” He moaned out, his voice shaky as he struggled to not lose himself.

You were in heaven, the feeling of his cock filling your throat caused your body to flood with heat, and you couldn’t stop your hand from finding your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with Matt’s thrusts. Noticing your hand, Matt quickly swatted it away before replacing it with his own; the softness of your wet cunt enough to cause his cock to twitch; threatening to shoot his seed down your throat. But he didn’t want to cum; not until he felt all of you.

In the blink of an eye, he pulled his dripping cock out of your throat; causing you to gasp for air. Before you had the chance to question anything, he grabbed you under your arms and pulled you off of the dryer before slamming you against the wall in the hallway. The wind was knocked out of you, but Matt didn’t give you a minute to recover before lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist; keeping you pressed to the wall. His mouth found yours again, and the taste of you on his explorative tongue was enticing. With his mouth still on yours, the tip of Matt’s cock practically finds your opening itself, and it was so hard he didn’t even have to stabilize it with his hand before it slipped into you; stretching your walls and filling you up completely.

As soon as he bottomed out, he released a deep, guttural moan that echoed in your ears. Fighting a moan of your own, you grabbed the back of his neck. “Shh!” You whispered, looking into his eyes through droopy eyelashes. He snapped his cock into you. “You didn’t seem too concerned with staying quiet last night.” Matt’s words were strained as he tried to control his thrusts. Still looking at him in the eyes, a sinister smile crosses your face at him actually wanting to talk about last night for the first time.

He picked up on the reasoning behind your smile, and he snapped his hips again; causing you to yelp. “So you did want me to hear, hmm?” His head moved to the crook of your neck, and his lips against your ear caused goosebumps to raise on your skin. As he thrusted into you, all you could do was nod. “Do you know — ah fuck — do you know how bad my cock has been aching for you all day?” His words caused the pressure in your stomach to triple, and the thought of him being desperate to be inside of you caused your back to arch against the wall.

“M-made me feel like a creep all day, and for what? Hmm?” Matt grabbed your jaw and made you face him. He continued driving himself into you as he stared lustfully at your face. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth; letting his thumb fall in before wrapping your lips around it and sucking innocently. “Fuck baby,” He grumbled, watching your lips as your tongue swirled around his thumb. “Tell me.” His eyes were pleading with you, and you knew he was close, but he wasn’t gonna cum until you told him the truth. “W-wanted you to k-know what it’s l-like — fucking me. Wanted y-your cock h-hard for me.” You managed to tell him the truth. “Jesus Christ.” Matt moaned out in response, grabbing the base of your hair before slamming his cock in and out of you faster than he had before. Each time his cock hit your g-spot, your head slammed against the wall behind you; adding a new intensity to the fast-approaching orgasm you were feeling.

“Shit, gonna cum. Where do you want me?” His voice was ragged, as was his pace, and the desperation laced throughout the sloppiness drew you even closer to the edge. “As deep as you can get Matty.” You whispered in his ear just before you were overtaken by your own orgasm. As he continued to thrust into you, you felt your walls convulse around his girth. Your legs wrapped even tighter around his waist, toes curling as the waves of your orgasm crashed around you.

As you were still in the middle of cumming all over him, Matt suddenly snapped his cock hard and deep into you; spilling his seed deep in your guts, just like you asked, as a deep ragged moan fell from his mouth. Your hungry cunt milked his dick dry, and the intensity of filling you up with the nut that had been debilitating him all day was like no other orgasm he had ever experienced.

You could feel his cock twitch repeatedly as he filled your insides with his hot white cum, and his soft moans of pure relief in your ear were as continuous as your own as you both fell into a deep trance. As you both came down from your highs, Matt held you against the wall; brushing his fingertips softly against the skin on your upper thigh. You had never had sex so satisfying, so deliciously exhausting, and you were in such a haze that you could have easily fallen asleep right there, pressed against the wall.

But after a few moments, Matt carefully slid his shaft out of you and helped you to your feet. He took a moment to admire you, fixing your hair and pulling down your dress, before leading you to his washroom. “You’re a little psycho, you know that right?” He asked jokingly as he started the shower. You stood in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection; evidence of Matt’s touch all over you. You smiled at him as he helped you take off your dress. “I’m sorry.” You replied, to which he rolled his eyes. “No you’re not. But do me a favour, next time you want me to fuck you, just tell me, alright?”

Your stomach did an excited flip from his unexpected words, and you walked into the shower on shaky legs. Turning around to face him standing by the washroom door, you found him staring indulgently at your naked frame. You put your hands on your hips and huffed dramatically. “Okay, get in here. I want you to fuck me.”

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mv1simp · 2 months ago

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for anon's request: max with another driver's younger sis, same age gap <3

Girls Need Love ♥️

Max Verstappen x Sainz!Reader

girls can never say they need it, girls can never say now, oh now (give it to me like you need it, baby)

You're the youngest cousin in the Sainz family, your papa's most precious princessa. Unlike your cousins and brother, who get to openly show off their many romantic conquests, you have been raised to be demure and shy about boys. But when you meet your older brother's friend, Max, you can't control the desires within you. You want him, and you're ready to show him just how much.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, sexual tension, size kink, dom!Max, sub!Reader, 5k WC

It was no secret that your older brother, Carlos, was a notorious playboy. He gets it from his father, your tias had always gushed, he was always a ladies' man too! Growing up, you'd always see Carlos easily charm his way with younger and older women alike, his devilishly good looks just too hard to resist. And he wasn't discreet about it either - you'd had to bang many a time on the wall separating your rooms on family vacation when him and his fling of the month had been a touch too enthusiastic with their activities. Your large family would always laugh when they'd emerge from their room to join brunch, well into the late morning, and tease Carlos that the tequila and oyster paella last night must have had a kick to it, ay carino?

You'd join in on the teasing, giggling and enjoying the blush Carlos would always get when you called him el estupido rompecorazones, an idiotic heartstealer. When you were younger, you had always thought that one day your tios and tias would tease you too, on family vacation when you returned from a lazy afternoon stroll with a boyfriend, all flushed - but as you grew older, you'd accepted it as just a childhood fantasy. You weren't shy by any means (you had Spanish blood after all! A Sainz through and through) but you didn't possess that natural flirtatious nature, the ability to give those romantic smoulders that your older brother seems to have been born with. And when you focused on your career more and more, working as a sought after financial advisor to your brother and many of his athlete colleagues, you found that by age 26 you'd only had a small handful of short relationships.

The one time you'd brought a college boyfriend home - your first and only serious relationship - your father had certainly had a very different attitude towards him compared to his usual friendliness to Carlos' girlfriends. You'd told your papa afterwords how embarrassing it'd been that he had interrogated your boyfriend over dinner, wanting to know what his future plans were on a first meeting, only for him to ruffle your curls and press a kiss to your forehead to melt away the upset expression you had. Ay, mi princesa, I have to make sure all these tontos are good enough for you, hmm? You're far more precious to me than your idiota brother and cousins.

Although his words were meant to soothe your frustrations, they just made you feel uneasy - you were also a hot blooded Sainz, you also wanted to passionately love and be loved! But it seemed that as time passed and everyone around you brought their paramours to the Mallorca vacation home, you would always remain the sweet little princessa, the youngest and innocent cousin.

You'd put your love life to the side for the past year, focusing on your rapidly expanding business portfolio. So when Carlos mentioned one of his friends had signed a very generous contract this season, and needed advice of how to invest a good chunk of it, you'd immediately said yes without knowing who it was. You hadn't expected to find yourself sitting across the table from Max Verstappen. Of course, you and Max had met many times when he and Carlos had raced on the same junior team - but you'd been much younger then. You remember always thinking the serious, intense Dutch boy had been so handsome, had even developed a schoolgirl's crush on him - but as your older brother's racing team mate who was notorious for enraged outbursts, he was off limits to you in your family's eyes and had ignored you most of the time.

But now, years later, things were quite different with you being a 26 year old woman, fully matured into your gorgeous curves and thick lips, and those famous Sainz wide brown eyes, framed with long lashes. Even now though, the tall Dutchman made your heart flutter when he laughed at your apology for the delay in setting up a meeting, your idiota tonto of an older brother had conveniently forgotten to mention that his friend happened to be the current F1 world champion. You two shared a delicious lunch at the beach club overlooking the stunning Monaco marina, stimulating conversation flowing over a glass of light white wine and fresh oysters. Although you discussed various business plans, you were surprised to find how easy it was to laugh at many other things with the handsome driver, from childhood memories to how you’d found college in London to his two cats named after nightclubs and your one dog dutifully named after your childhood favourite rapper - Snoop.

You couldn't help but blush whenever Max smiled at you with his enticing lips, looking so gorgeous with his tousled blonde hair and dressed in a rare white linen shirt that showed off his broad shoulders and thick biceps.

After you'd covered the different investment options he could go for and he had selected the ones that peaked his interest, you wrapped up the business meeting by reaching into your Chanel purse to pull out your card - you always had a rule to pay for your clients and give them a first class experience.

To your surprise, Max had already given his black Amex to the waiter when you had touched up your lipgloss in the bathroom earlier. At your gentle protests, he explained that his mother would kill him if he didn't look after Carlos' younger sister - as would your father, he joked. You laughed easily with him as he walked you back to your car, a cute Mini Cooper, agreeing that yes, your papa probably would have the head of any man who didn't treat his princessa right. As you drove off, you couldn't help the longing in your heart for wanting Max to pay because he cared for you, found you to be a beautiful woman, rather than because he was looking after Carlos' younger sister.

You made sure to put those unprofessional desires to the back of your mind at your next meeting 2 weeks later, this time at your small but luxurious office in a ocean-facing building in downtown Monaco. You'd recently moved here with your small team, you explained as you greeted him at the entryway to guide him to the elevators, as so much of your clientele was based in the area. In the reflective surface of the elevator walls, you don't miss how his intense blue eyes rake down the back of your curvy figure, taking in how the dress you’d specifically chosen for today hugs you just right, especially over your ass - where his gaze lingers for a second too long.

You’re blushing again as you exit, pleased that you had drawn his attention. He remains the perfect gentleman for the rest of your meeting, listening intently as you break down the personalised investment plan your company has created for him. He’s very impressed with your selection, every option carefully curated to preference he’d mentioned at your lunch, even in passing, and presented in a minimalist layout, just as he liked it. His praise brings back the same desire and want you felt, unable to dampen it this time.

Over the next three months you meet Max to review the physical investment options you’d agreed on. If you’re being honest, this sort of task would generally be managed by a more junior executive at your small firm - but you told yourself that you were choosing to meet him yourself because he was such a VIP client, and not because you felt a rapidly growing attraction to the handsome blonde. And after touring the various developing high rise complexes or promising start up businesses that his investments were going to, you two would always end up going for lunch and a drink together afterwards. And sometimes you’d see him on his morning jogs while you walked your dog. Seeing Max kneel down to play with Snoop had been so adorable you’d asked if he knew a good bakery in the area, hoping he would join you. To your delight he did, taking you for a rich hot chocolate and freshly baked croissant that ended up happening regularly, especially once he invited you to join his group for padel. But even when you started seeing him so often, Max remained the perfect gentleman, never letting his gaze drift or hands wander after that one time in the elevator. So you reminded yourself not to read into it when he offered to show you his favourite sights of Monaco, as you’d still recently moved here, taking you for long drive along the beautiful Azure coast.

Despite your internal turmoil, you’d dressed in a pretty floral minidress, hoping he might enjoy the view of your soft thighs. But instead, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from admiring how sexy he’d looked when driving, one hand on the wheel, showcasing his thick, veiny arms and the other resting on the console. As he’d chatted away, confidently navigating the winding roads, you couldn’t help but wonder what he’d do if you redirected his large hand to grip your thigh instead. You’d instantly blushed when you heard him calling your name, realising that you’d tuned him out and blamed it on the heat. So he took an exit and next thing you were enjoying the most delicious strawberry gelato you’d tasted, moaning from the taste and licking up a rivulet that had run down your hand. When you looked over to Max to thank him for introducing this place, you have to hold back a gasp at how hungrily his gaze is fixed on your pouting lips. But then the sun catches your eye at a sharp angle and you blink, and when you look again the look is gone and he’s laughing at the sight of Snoop desperately trying to lick your ice cream out the car window.

Your poor little heart can’t take all this one sided attraction, you desperately needed to know if Max felt any desire to you like you felt for him. So a couple of weeks later, when you were meeting him for the last official signing of asset acquisitions at one of the downtown Monaco high rise buildings, you make sure you’re wearing another one of your irresistible dresses in an effort to catch his eye. As you reach past him to grab the pen he’d sign with, you can’t resist pressing your soft, plush tits against his large bicep, which looked so good again in a half zipped knit sweater. His gaze automatically flickers down to your low cut sweetheart neckline, lingering on your cleavage pushed against him a beat to long to be considered polite, before he draws his attention back up to your blushing face, to your pink glossed lips that you now bite. You don't miss the dark hunger swirling in his blue eyes, the tension thickening and sparks crackling, his hand reaching up to brush your cheek as both of you lean in-

Then your phone rings, your brother's contact photo lighting up the screen, ruining the moment. You curse internally at Carlos for cockblocking you even when he wasn't physically present, but you take his call just in case it was important (it wasn't. The idiota just wanted to complain about how Spain had lost the football to England). When you furiously whisper at Carlos to shut the hell up before hanging up and turning back around, Max is back to the almost infuriating gentleman self he is around you, handing you the signed papers with a polite smile. You try not to let the disappointment on your face show, because you couldn't figure out why the Dutchman didn't seem interested in pursuing you when you'd seen him out at the Monaco clubs, arms around pretty girls and flirting easily. Did he not find you pretty like he found them?

After the paperwork is all done and Max is walking you back to your car, he offers to take you out for a final celebration, this time an intimate dinner instead of your usual sunny beachside lunches. You spent the better part of an hour trying to pick the most tempting outfit, and then another hour applying your makeup to flatter your already pretty, dark features. You wanted to look absolutely perfect for him, knowing this might be the last chance you'd have in a while to use work as an excuse. And when Max saw you walk out as he leaned against his sleek discreet black Audi, you couldn't stop the pleased flush that spread across your cheeks when he raked his gaze over your short form, taking in how the elegant burgundy full length dress clung to your curves, complimenting you on how lovely you looked tonight, even more so than usual. You sweetly returned the compliment, which wasn't hard to do as Max looked so handsome in a baby blue button up and fitted pants, his broad muscles and large frame perfectly highlighted for you to ogle.

And after intimate Spanish dinner over soft candelight, laughing and sharing your latest stories of the week, enjoying more than a single glass of red wine for once, you couldn't help but hope that this would be it, the night where something finally happened between the two of you, because surely Max had just been holding back out of professional boundaries, yes? So after Max generously paid for dinner - as per usual - you accepted his offer to drive you home. The gold sparkly heels you'd worn worked very well to make your ass pop even more as you confidently walked - something that you made sure to capitalise on by walking ahead of Max as you left the restaurant.

And you'd been so sure all signs pointed to romance when he pulled up in front of your apartment, and you asked if he'd like to come enjoy the night view from your balcony with another glass of wine, and he'd briefly hesitated before saying Yes, of course, Schatje. You beam at him, melting at his use of the Dutch nickname, which he'd told you meant sweetheart when you'd curiously asked him when he began absentmindedly calling you that a few weeks ago. And it felt so natural to be up on your balcony with him, giggling with a bottle of wine after trashing him at Monopoly, sitting so close that you could feel his warmth radiating through his shirt as you kicked off your heels and sat down on the outdoor settee. And when he continued talking easily about all the ways he was certain you cheated when you lean your head against his strong shoulder, you took it as another promising sign. But then, when you'd looked up at him with your brown doe eyes and thick lashes, desperately hoping he would lean in because you thought the moment had been right - you'd only been met with disappointment after a long, long moment when he turned his soft blue eyes away. He’d tensed, saying he was sorry for keeping you up so late, he should head off now - avoiding your gaze as your eyes swelled as you watched him leave out the front door.

You didn’t see Max for the next two weeks after that, avoiding walking your usual weekend route or tagging along to the padel games. You felt so embarrassed that perhaps you’d read the signals wrong, and also so frustrated that you couldn’t be more like your older brother who had no problem flirting blatantly with others or giving them an open mouthed kiss. Would Max even like a girl who did that? Wasn’t he meant to make the first move as proof that he wanted you? Glumly, you moped about at work and at home, watching Bridgerton and eating strawberry ice cream out of the carton. When your family chat blew up as it approached the time of the year where you’d all meet up and spend time at the Mallorca home, you had already texted that you weren’t coming - but then found yourself having to answer multiple angry calls in Spanish from various relatives and decided it was just easier to give in.

Packing a bag with the essentials - sunglasses, bikinis and raunchy romance novels - you headed to the vacation home a week early to unwind and prepare yourself for the chaos that was your loving family, knowing that everyone would turn up with their latest boyfriend and girlfriend and you’d be teased about how you were too sweet and shy as usual. Sweet and shy your ass, you thought moodily, sipping on a frozen margarita you made as you lounged in a bikini by the pool.

Schatje?

You whirl around, thinking you were imaging things now, but there Max stood, looking as hot as ever in that favourite white linen shirt of yours. And it was open down the front too, revealing his toned broad chest to you for the first time. You got so distracted that you didn’t hear him the first time asking what you were doing there - to which you had to each arch a brow and haughtily reply that this was the Sainz family home, shouldn't he explain why he was here?

Turns out Carlos had apparently thought Max was too keyed up the past few weeks and getting twitchily close to the Ferraris on race weekends. So your idiota brother had tossed him the spare keys to unwind in the empty villa before everyone showed up - except for you. But I’ll leave, you were here first - Max had said, but you sighed, still wanting to be an accomodating host like your family had raised you to be, despite your hurt feelings, and generously said the villa was huge, you two could easily just stay out of each other’s way?

So you did both stay, keeping to opposite ends of the villa - at least for the first few hours, anyway. Max had been unable to resist the smell of the enchiladas you’d cooked up for dinner and you hadn’t been able to stop drinking the ice cold G&Ts he poured whenever you asked. And a couple of days passed like that, you two easily slipping into friendship again, ignoring the tension on your balcony from last time. But seeing Max in your summer home stirred up that desire within you, made you ache for him and leave your bikini bottoms all sticky and wet after you’d stare at his shirtless, muscley back from behind your sunglasses all afternoon. It was pathetic, really, that you had the real man right there in front of you but couldn’t seem to charm him.

And the torture didn’t stop even when he was out of your sight, when you woke up flushed in the middle of the night, heady from the pleasure of a recurrent dream you’d been having lately about a certain tall blonde Dutchman having his way with you as he bent you over your office desk and dirtily whispered a you going to let me cum inside you, schatje? Instead of helplessly pining, you decided to give your frustrated little pussy some well deserved relief that night. Opening your French doors out the the garden, you made yourself comfortable on the soft outdoor sofa on the patio as you slid up your silky nightdress and took your favourite bullet vibrator right where you ached the most. It was risky, sure - but it was your house, and it was far too hot in the summer heat to get worked up indoors. Besides, Max was asleep, all the way on the other side of the villa. There was no chance of him hearing what you were doing this many doors down.

So that’s why you didn’t hold your sweet moans back, getting louder and louder, eyes fluttering shut from the delicious pleasure your toy was bringing you, moaning his name on your lips just like you’d been doing in the dream. What you hadn't yet realised was that Max was very accustomed to being up at odd hours, gaming and sim racing away - but the summer heat had been intolerable as he ran warm anyway. And you certainly didn’t notice that your pretty show had caught the attention of the very man it was dedicated to, who was out on a late night walk to cool off.

He’d planned on minding his own business, truly, when he’d seen you throw your head back in pleasure - knowing that you were forbidden fruit as Carlo's little sister, having grown up protected and so naively experienced to the world of sin Max had been exposed to. You were far too precious, too pure, for someone as destructive and aggressive as him to touch. Really, he had planned on walking right back to his room, taking a cold shower and maybe jerking off to hypnotising image of you in a silk slip under the moonlight.

But then he heard you breathily call his name, your sweet voice calling out for Maxie, all high pitched as you remained lost in your fantasy. It’s what you’d called him when you were little, watching him admiringly from the junior Redbull garage as he and Carlos walked back from a race.

All shreds of self control he’d had to avoid getting involved with his friend’s sweet, protected younger sister - all got tossed aside. So when you became frustrated with your toy, biting your lip and scrunching your eyebrows cutely because it just wasn’t hitting the way you wanted - he couldn’t resist huskily asking if you want to try out the real thing, prinses?

You gasped, snapping your soft thighs closed and jolting upright, only to look horrified as you saw Max leaning against the patio railing, thick arms crossed across his shirtless figure. His hungry gaze and wicked smirk made it clear he’d seen you playing with your most intimate parts while moaning his name like a desperate little slut. You’d stammered out an apology, trying to talk your way out of the shameless scene, half painfully embarrassed and half furious he'd watched you so intensely even though he'd rejected you before. Max tilts his head, expression unreadable as he takes in your weak excuses. To your surprise, he stalks forward, standing in front of your seated form, murmuring that if you were truly sorry you’d make it up to him by picking up where you'd left off your cute little show.

You blinked, face flushed, asking him confusedly that you didn’t understand, you’d thought that he wasn’t interested in you, hadn’t found you pretty, after all the months of tension he’d walked away on the balcony-

Oh, schatje, Max sighed, large palm reaching out to brush your plush cheeks as he looked down at your upset face, his finger lingering against your pouting lips. I wanted you the moment I saw you in that black dress at our very first lunch. Your doe eyes widened as he continues, explaining how truly, he’d held back on his twisted desires for his friend's little sister, who he was expected to look after - but instead had been having filthy thoughts about, hmm? He’d used his other hand to palm the growing bulge then, making you gasp at the size even though his sweats. The things I’ve been thinking about, sweet girl…they're far too dirty for such a pure angel like you.

Heat spread through your body at his words, a dusty pink flush on your face. Shyly, you spread your legs wide open again, letting him see all of you, all of the wetness that dripped down as you weren’t wearing any panties underneath your nightdress. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted this, how you weren’t some precious little doll that everyone thought you were. So even though it made you blush furiously, you looked right at him as you leaned back on the settee and slowly slid a cute manicured finger down your slit before entering yourself. The desire in Max's wide pupils was obvious as you moaned his name again, coyly mentioning that you'd always wondered if he'd be able to better stretch you out, your tiny fingers and toys couldn’t do the job?

You finally break him then, and he growls and bends down to pull you towards him, his broad shoulders blocking out the sky but his sea blue eyes just as gorgeous to look at as the stars. You giggle at how enamoured he looks gazing down at you, but then you’re gasping into his mouth as he leans down to capture your lips with his. And your gasps turn to moans as the filthy kiss previews what comes next. Soon his lips are trailing down your delicate neck, over your sensitive tan nipples that Max swirls his skilled tongue around, murmuring that your tits were so goddamn pretty as his large hands squeeze the juicy flesh. You’re tangling your fingers in his soft hair as he teasingly sucks on your hardened nubs, arching into his mouth and tossing your head back.

And his wet kisses move lower, over your thick hips, and then he’s blowing softly over your exposed dripping pussy, holding your soft thighs open with a strong grip. Then he’s leaving slow licks up your dripping slit with a broad swipe as he chuckles that he’d been dreaming about this, too.

It’s all too much for you and you’re cumming all over his wicked tongue, and then his wide fingers, and then - once you beg for it and make his ears go pink from hearing you moan Maxie - you also cum all over his thick cock. It’s just as pretty and swollen as you’d fantasied about, splitting you open in a way no man had ever been able to before. You’re screaming and squirting around it, eyes rolling back at the mind blowing pleasure you’re finally recieving.

He kisses you sweetly after you both have had your fill of multiple rounds, murmuring how good you’d been for him, how much he loved it, loved you. You blush under the praise and fall asleep on his broad chest, still lying there on the outdoor settee and enjoying the warmth of his muscled arms protecting you from the cool night’s breeze.

And when morning comes you’re suddenly anxious that it was just a one time thing, that he would tell you he disliked it, that he should never have slept with Carlos’ sister. But to your delight it it seems Max had been holding back on how much he’d been falling for you too. He shows you just how much after the two of you go for a swim in the azure seawater and eat a lazy brunch by the pool. He’s raking his heated gaze shamelessly over your juicy ass, droplets still drying off as you lounge on the sunbed in a little bikini. You’ve barely finished your mango smoothie when he’s yanking the knots and palming greedily with his large hands. Fuck, do you know how many times I thought about ripping open those tight dresses of yours and doing this?

You smirk rather smugly and turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, where he’s begun sliding his raging erection along your bouncy cheeks, your soft flesh enveloping the hard length. Why do you think I wore them? You respond teasingly. Definitely not what I normally wear to a client meeting.

He growls, speeding up his thrusts along your fat cheeks and delivering harsh smack to your ass as punishment for your seductive techniques. You squeal excitedly from the tingles shooting to your clit from his forceful slap. You jiggle your hips tantalisingly, pushing back on him and he licks his lips before delivering more harsh smacks to your quickly reddening ass. You moan wantonly, ass lifted up in the air and your blushing face buried deep in a cushion when he splatters his cum all over your back, coating your caramel skin.

You swipe a finger through it to teasingly lick it up, sultrily commented on how tasty his cum was. His eyes widen at your unexpected dirty words, blood rushing to his cock again. And then you’re walking off to go prep dinner ingredients, letting him enjoy the view of your bouncing bum and leaving him on edge. He’d certainly made you wait, after all. A Sainz was nothing if not petty when they wanted to be. You play nice that afternoon, before springing your attack in the evening by slyly asking him if he’d teach you how to please him with your mouth next?

He’d choked on his empanada, his expression cutely flustered at the pleasurable idea. You’d fluttered your lashes and said please, Maxie, I want to make you feel good like you did to me last night and he was a goner when he looked into your brown doe eyes. So he taught you, his fingers threading through your pretty curls as you look up adoringly at him from where you kneeled. He quickly realised that although your eyes looked wide and innocent, your sweet mouth was anything but.

Safe to say, when your family finally joined you later on and took one look at how their princessa had ensared a 6 foot Dutch millionaire who followed her around like a lovesick puppy, you eared a new nickname. El tentadora de Monaco. You’d giggled from your seat in Max’s warm lap, ignoring the bewildered gaze of the idiota Carlos as even your father had given the new couple his blessing. The temptress of Monaco had a nice ring to it, sí?

—————————————————————————

A/N: Hope you enjoyed anon!! As always lmk what you think and feel free to send more requests!!

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #18+ mdni #carlos sainz

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soft4gguk · 3 months ago

Text

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever.

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself.

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people.

You think of him.

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close.

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter.

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another.

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too.

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call.

You check the time.

2:32 A.M.

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with.

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know.

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh.

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore.

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being.

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone.

He gets it now – the pull.

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you.

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase.

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes.

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now.

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, that too.”

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter.

Yearning.

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it.

Yeah – yearning.

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away.

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how.

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now.

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them.

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer.

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life.

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome.

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass.

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from.

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face.

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.”

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side.

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears.

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.”

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you.

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you.

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat.

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question.

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking.

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really?

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?”

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count.

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out.

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom.

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him.

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him.

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again.

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours.

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same.

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his.

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug.

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.”

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet.

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment.

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in.

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen.

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here.”

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years.

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction.

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close.

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him.

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you.

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours.

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him.

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly.

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now.

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back.

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit.

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm.

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him.

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again.

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough.

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at.

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully.

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go.

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure.

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.”

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again.

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive.

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock.

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.”

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ.

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game.

He said he’d never forget that day.

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say.

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh.

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter.

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap.

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips.

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind.

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his.

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips.

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited.

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably.

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest.

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall.

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you.

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you.

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away.

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper.

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too.

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down.

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior.

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts.

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.”

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

2K notes · View notes

singmyaubade · 11 months ago

Text

Shades Of Cool

toxic!dark!rafe cameron x female!pogue!reader

summary: you are just living your life, completely normal and free. but, what happens when rafe cameron decides that you are his? he's danger.

warnings: smut! 18+ stalking, manipulation, rafe is obsessed with reader, fingering, swearing, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, praise, oral (male receiving), dark!rafe cameron, choking, jealousy, violence, heavy smut..

a/n: i'm delighted I'm finally starting this, even if it took me so long. i genuinely hope you all enjoy this series. i understand that this a bit short, but the narrative is only getting started, so things will only get wilder! however, it is to be expected—this is a rafe cameron fic.

series

One thing that you hated about Outer Banks was how the heat still radiated at night, causing excessive amounts of water to be drank and a great amount of fans that blew hot air into your face.

It only made everyone irritable and only caused more arguments like now,

"I swear to god JJ, I am about to fucking murder you if you say another word," You hissed, giving him a glare as he mockingly grew scared.

"I agree," Cleo said before falling back into her nap.

"All I'm saying is that we have been moping around here for hours meanwhile we could be partying on the fresh beach and cool water," JJ replied, using his hands to represent the scenery to all of you.

"I'm going to have to agree with Y/N," Pope said, turning his head to JJ, "I'm already in tough shit with my parents for when you knocked over my great-grandmothers vase," Pope glared.

JJ put his hands up in defense, "I told you tequila makes me clumsy,"

"Besides every single Kook is there, including Rafe and if he sees Sarah with us, it will only bring another fight and you are not going back to jail," Kie warned, still closing her eyes while the fan blew the air in her face, blowing her hair.

"When have we ever been scared of Rafe?" JJ asked.

"When he gave me a full smackdown for doing my job," Pope scoffed.

"And when he almost drowned me," Sarah chimed in from across the room where she was laying on John B's legs on the carpet floor.

"And when he shot Sheriff Peterkin in front of us," John B added.

"And when-" Pope began.

"Okay that's enough," He said as you giggled, turning your head back to the fan.

You didn't know much about Rafe Cameron since you had moved to Outer Banks only last year and you had met the "star Pogues" a few months ago.

You had never really seen Rafe's face ever, only heard of him honestly.

But you didn't know if it was a bad thing.

All you had heard about was how evil and villainous he was which caused some places to be off limits for the fact that the boys couldn't handle another beat down with the Kooks and there was a greater matter at hand.

But still, you always were curious about "evil" Rafe Cameron.

"You guys are no fun," JJ pouted, sitting beside you on the couch.

You patted the lower part of his leg, "Poor baby," You sarcastically said to which moved his leg swiftly causing you to laugh.

Suddenly the lights and fans turned off as you all except for JJ groaned, knowing that meant the electricity was off you and you would have to deal with the heat and darkness.

Which meant the only choice was the beach party,

JJ cheered, "I win!"

You crossed your arms as you walked on the warm sand, lots of cheering and loud music around you. You could see the Kooks and the Pogues in their own groups, not daring to interact with eachother.

It was hard to get used to the fact that there were two groups of people based on economic statuses and that it meant that if you were one thing, the other one hated you.

You had never been to a place like that but you just kinda got used to it.

Yet you still could never tell which group was really which sometimes.

You were forced to walk around by yourself as John B and Sarah wandered off to a quiet spot while JJ started drinking with Kie as his babysitter and Cleo and Pope wandered around.

All of it sounded like a lot of third wheeling which made you stay away.

But you didn't mind being alone, you liked listening to the waves and watching the festivities that went along with a party.

And you knew that a beer would help you get more into the party festivities.

You walked over the keg where a man with a shaved head and a matching tank top and shorts poured himself a beer as you curiously looked at him.

You had to admit that he was one of the most attractive men you had seen before.

His lips were a perfect shade of pink and they were smooth like sucking on a cherry. His veins were bulging from his hands and you could see the peach fuzz on his jawline that you could only really see upclose.

You snapped out of your analysis as he looked at you as you waited there awkwardly, forming a smile on your face.

"Sorry to creepily stand here, I'm just trying to get a uh-" You said, pointing to the keg.

His face studied you for a second, almost as if he was trying to figure you out. You could tell by his face that he had never seen you before and he looked as if he was trying to figure out if you were a Kook or Pogue.

He chuckled, "Didn't mean to take so long, I wouldn't have if I had seen your pretty face sooner," He smirked, looking you up and down, causing you to blush.

You felt stupid for blushing over something that a man probably said to every pretty girl he saw but you felt something different about him.

You were taken aback by his boldness, "Do you say that to every women that waits for her turn on the keg?" You teased.

"Only the pretty ones," He replied, causing you to laugh.

"Smooth talker I see," You smiled.

"Always," He joked, "I swear I've never seen you around and usually, you know everyone in Outer Banks," He probed.

"Yeah, I just moved here last year," You answered, "I haven't made my rounds yet,"

"Figured," He said, "I would've definitely noticed you,"

"Pfft," You beamed, "I'm sure you would've walked past me on the beach, there are many beautiful girls here,"

"Nah," He laughed, looking off, "You are different from them,"

"How could you already assume that?" You asked, curiosity biting at you.

"For one, you aren't stuck up and preppy which is most the girls on this island," He grinned as you giggled.

"Ay, they aren't all like that," You replied.

"Most of 'em," He added, "But I don't pay much attention to them,"

"Figures," You said, eyebrow raising.

He saw your eyes move the keg and his cup before he offered his cup forward.

"Might as well take mine, I wouldn't feel proud of myself if I let you pour one yourself," He winked.

Great attempt at being a gentlemen.

"No no, I got it," You said before he shook his head.

"I insist" He said, his thumb grazing yours.

"Thank you," You smiled, "I'm Y/N" You introduced, taking the cup from him while extending your other hand for him to shake.

He shook your hand, "I'm Rafe," He replied with a smile as yours slowly fell.

The Rafe? The Rafe you were basically supposed to never interact with and who was the supposed devil? That Rafe?

"Rafe Cameron?" You asked, standing frozen.

"Guess my reputation precedes me," He joked as you didn't laugh but instead cleared your throat.

You took your hand back quickly, "Oh, i-it's nice to meet you," You cleared your throat, "My friends are waiting so I'm gonna-"

He clearly figured you out, "Pogue, I'm guessing?" He snickered.

Your face wrinkled, "Is that supposed to be a funny thing?"

"Hilarious actually," He answered, only angering you more.

"I don't see what's funny about that?" You crossed your arms with ur drink resting in your hand.

He wiped his jaw, "Must be tough at the bottom of the food chain,"

Your nose flared, "Must be tough being an elite asshole,"

He laughed, "I just think it's an unfortunate cause, I mean it's just unlucky," He smirked.

Asshole.

"Unlucky?" Your lip pursed, " I think what's more unlucky is thinking that your cool for a fucked up economic status that has been perpetuated on an island,"

"I just don't believe your friends belong on Outer Banks," He said, not a hint of hesitance in his voice.

He really believed in this bullshit.

"I mean you would really rather hang out with a group of dirty Pogues?" He snickered, looking off.

"Well I am one of them and they are my friends," You scoffed, "You seem more dirty than us," You insulted.

"Is that so?" Rafe mocked.

"Do you wanna talk about your father's dirty money?" You asked.

"I would watch that pretty mouth," He replied, inching closer.

"Or what?" You hummed, acting braver than you usually would.

"Fuck around and find out sweetheart," He came closer, breath fawning on your face.

The whiskey on his breath kissed your nose but not breaking your eye contact with him as you inched closer, eyes on his lips.

As he tried to close the gap, you threw the drink in his face. "Oohs" and snickers filled around the both of you as you stomped away from him.

He smirked, wiping the alcohol off of his face.

'What an asshole,' You thought,

Little did you know that Rafe only grew to like you more.

You found JJ and Kie sitting by the beach together as she laid her head on his shoulder. You were thinking about interrupting them but tarnish their moment, you choosing instead to call it a night and also you didn't feel like trying to find the rest of the group.

You were glad that you knew yourself enough to drive to the party considering that you got tired fast. You couldn't really see in the parking lot due to how dark it was and away from the lights.

You digged in your back pocket for your phone to pull out of the flashlight as you reached for your keys but dropped them instead in the process.

You audibly groaned as you searched on the floor in the darkness for the keys. You went on your knees with your flashing light, searching on the ground as you heard footsteps behind you, darting your flashlight behind you but seeing nothing.

You had a bad feeling but you thought it was paranoia because you were alone in the parking lot and maybe a little due to the interaction you had earlier with Rafe.

You couldn't stop thinking about how he came off as nice but switched so quickly into an elitist piece of shit.

Sounds like how they described him.

But still, there was a pit in your stomach that felt like butterflies when he grazed your thumb.

You sighed, pushing the thoughts out as you finally grabbed your keys, using the concrete-sanded floor push yourself back up off the ground.

Suddenly, you felt a cloth on your mouth and a hand covering your waist as your muffled screams filled the parking lot, trying to kick your attacker behind you.

You felt yourself drifting into the darkness as you screamed one last time,

And everything went black.

tags: @hysteriahall @avengersassemblee @lighttism @whereismymindnow @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @vi06ma01 @haven247 @vanessa-rafesgirl @blvebanisters @riordanness @aleidag1rly @muzanjackson22

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wileys-russo · 4 months ago

Text

the royal box II l.williamson

i think this is genuinely up there with one of my favourite fics i've ever written the royal box II l.williamson

"i'd love to do lunch! i should probably find my seat soon but maybe next week? i'll get my agent to text me my calendar." you smiled, kissing the girls cheek and clinking your drink against hers in goodbye as you turned back to the bar.

not having seen her since you'd walked your first runway years ago it never ceased to amaze you how small the world could seem at these type of events, truly never knowing who you'd run into next, most of them a pleasant surprise.

"shame they let anybody in here now, for a royal box it’s really going downhill." but that voice, that raspy tone and infuriatingly attractive accent, that voice was not a pleasant surprise, in fact it was anything but.

"leah." you didn't even need to turn to look at her as she appeared beside you, nursing a drink of her own as the pair of you watched the pre set warm ups commence on the court below, stood together at a large crystal clear double paneled window right by the bar.

"well it can't be that royal of a box if you're here. unless they invited you because you're a royal pain in the ass?" you met her gaze with a fake smile, sipping at your drink as she puffed air from her nose.

"well you never seemed to complain when i was touching your ass darling." she quipped back smugly as you finished your drink with a fake chuckle, reaching over to place the empty glass on the bar top.

you hadn't seen her in months and yet it felt like only yesterday those same bright eyes had been locked with yours, often at any and all hours of the night and rarely ever stone cold sober as you'd roll around in bed together.

but swallowing the past you plastered a polite smile on your face and turned back to her. “lovely of your dad to let you borrow his suit, though it could have been tailored a little better-” you gently knocked your foot against hers, heel dragging up the edge of her pants that indeed were a centimeter or two too long to reveal her ankles.

"-then again, might be best to hide those shoes. did you loan those from your grandad?" you grimaced, leah kicking your foot away with a scowl, necking the last of her own drink.

“well speaking of hiding what a lovely change for you to put on a dress that isn't two sizes too small and soaked in cheap tequila and regret." the blonde smiled charmingly reaching over your shoulder to put her empty glass down next to yours, gesturing to the bartender that she'd like another.

"then again i know thats all about easy access for you, isn't it?" leah smirked as your eyes narrowed but still the fake smile remained on your lips.

“i seem to remember you never minded. less material to rip off and toss on your floor first, then throw at my face once we were done and you wanted me to leave, right?” you retorted back, not missing the way her eyes dipped up and down to check you out.

“do I have a glow about me? i’ve just been getting so much more beauty sleep without the needy calls at three in the morning.” leah questioned, patting her cheeks gently with a smug glint in her eyes as you laughed politely.

“no i was actually going to suggest you try a new eye cream, anti aging maybe? and these frown lines…yikes. then there’s those angry little eyebrows-” your finger wiggled around in front of her face pointing things out, lips curling upward at the way the smug humor was promptly wiped from her features.

“at least my eyebrows are real.” leah was quick to bite, jaw muscles visibly clenching as you chuckled, not at all ashamed of the fact you got yours tattooed, something leah used to find endlessly fascinating.

“well in my defense i have had a lot of practice faking things, haven't i?” you grinned watching her jaw tense even more, knowing exactly which kinks in her armor to poke at to get a reaction even after all this time had passed.

"please. i know you miss me!" leah's eyes rolled cockily as you laughed sarcastically. “aw is that what you have to tell yourself to feel better? baby I haven’t missed you at all.” you promised as her eyes now rolled.

“yeah you wish, i’ve missed you even less.”

“did dad do your tie for you as well or have we learned how to do it ourselves by now?” you pouted mockingly, reaching over and tightening the knot of her tie as she pushed your hands away and quickly tugged it back looser again.

“booked any genuine campaigns yet or is mummy still flashing the nepotism card to get you on the runway?” leah pouted right back as you scoffed and she grinned, also knowing exactly where to poke at you to get what she wanted.

“please like you don’t stalk my socials, i see you watching my stories.” you snickered, eyes drifting away from her and back down to the court where things seemed to be about to start.

“you think about me so much you feel the need to check? do you post things hoping i'll see them? aw baby girl that’s so sweet of you.” leah cooed pinching your cheek as you smacked her hand off you with a glare.

“don’t call me that.” you warned, hating the glee which filled her face at your obvious discontent, cursing yourself internally for allowing her to see as much.

“oh i'm sorry, struck a nerve did i? good girl, is that better?” leah leaned in closer to whisper, lips grazing your ear as she grabbed a fresh drink from the bar and retracted, the hair on the back of your neck standing to attention.

you kept quiet at that, turning away from her and ordering a new drink of your own with a polite smile, still feeling her eyes on your back as she made no move to leave.

"surely there's some doe eyed idiot with a complex for athletes that you can go swoon with the stories of you kicking things to boost your microsized ego?" you rolled your eyes hearing her chuckle and move to lean against the bar right beside you again.

"footballs. kicking footballs, never could learn the rules or the lingo could you? or maybe you just pretend not to know so i'll explain to you over and over and over, always giving you the attention you want so badly." leahs finger swiped at your nose as you gave her a hard look and shoved at her shoulder.

"speaking of idiots, will that wet mop with teeth and a combover you call a boyfriend be joining us?” leah questioned, spinning around so her back leant against the bar top and her eyes scanned the room, everyone slowly filing out to find their seats.

"you really have been keeping tabs." you glanced up at her with a small smirk as she chose not to acknowledge your statement.

“but no he’s probably off partying in magaluf or ibiza spreading some sort of sexually transmitted disease, waving his little dick around and shoving it into everything that moves.” you rolled your eyes with disdain at the mention of your anything but loyal ex, the boy having slept with more women just while he was with you than you think you had your entire lifetime.

"ahh i see, ex boyfriend then. did he catch the sti from you? or was it one pregnancy scare too many that pushed the unwilling father to be away.” leah smirked though she felt you stiffen beside her and suddenly alarm bells went off in her head that maybe she'd taken things just a step too far.

"fuck you leah." you didn't even hang around to wait for your drink, giving the taller girl one final venomous look which made her stomach drop before you were storming off away from her to find your seat.

it had happened when you least expected it.

you'd not seen leah for a couple of weeks as she was on camp for england, but nothing about your hook ups regular or scheduled and certainly not monogamous you'd busied yourself seeing other people.

this night in particular it had been a rather handsome male model you'd been on a shoot with, accepting his offer of dinner and drinks once you'd wrapped for the day, raised never to say no to a free meal or a hot date.

one thing lead to another and later that night you found yourself in a club packed with blurred faceless bodies, surrounded by strangers and drowning yourself in shots to the point you didn't even remember leaving and going home with him.

there was however one thing that was burned into your mind, the biggest regret of your life as the condom had broke while the two of you were going at it.

normally you were always careful and you'd never be this stupid but the boy dismissing it himself you'd been far too drunk to disagree as he made no move to pull out.

not even getting to have a release yourself it had been a gloriously underwhelming seven minutes before he was satisfied and then suddenly too tired to return the favor.

again with potentially more cheap vodka in your system than blood you'd passed out beside him, spending the night in his bed and waking up hours later with a pounding headache and a deep rooted shame as you sat up and slivers of last night flickered through your mind.

grabbing your clothes you quickly dressed and fled his house, no idea where you were as you sat on his front steps and bounced your knee, the shame spreading through your body quickly morphing into anxiety as your fight or flight kicked in.

knowing there was one person who would answer this time of morning you clicked call, phone held to your ear and skin crawling with disgust as you prayed she would come through.

sure enough after only a few rings the dial tone clicked and you heard a yawn. "this is unusually early for a hook up even for you, what you need and miss me this badly?" the teasing tone and snicker died in her mouth hearing how you spoke her name.

"leah." you could barely get it out without crying, covering your mouth as reality set in and the blonde on the other end sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes and trying to wake herself up properly.

"whats happened? whats wrong?" the concern in her voice was lost on you as you took a shaky breath. "can you come pick me up please? i don't know where i am but i can send you my location." you asked quietly, leah already out of bed and rummaging around for her car keys.

"yeah send it now, i'll be there soon."

you'd moved away from his house lingering on the curb out front when you heard her pull up, standing to your feet and hurrying to her car just wanting to get as far away from here as possible.

leah had intended to get out of the car to check on you but you were already up and opening the passenger door, sliding into her car and avoiding her gaze as you buckled yourself in.

"you alright?" leah asked cautiously voice thick with sleep, taking in your disheveled appearance and oddly quiet manner with a frown. "i'm fine." you muttered quietly, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you stared down at the floor.

"did something happen?" leah asked carefully though you knew what she meant, a gentle nudge to your side having her offering you a bottle of water she'd quickly grabbed from her fridge as she flew out the door.

"can you take me to a pharmacy please? there's one open about ten minutes from here." you asked after accepting the water with a quiet thank you, leah hesitating for a moment which you felt.

"leah, please." you finally looked up and met her gaze, silence filling the car as the blondes eyes raked over you. "actually don't worry i should have just called an uber or something i'm sorry." you shook your head, moving to unclip your seatbelt as leahs hand shot to grab yours.

"no, please i really don't want you in an uber by yourself right now. put the address in and i'll take you." leah promised softly, squeezing your hand and waiting until you nodded to let go, starting the car back up as you typed the address into her gps system.

there wasn't another word exchanged between the pair of you, leah focused on the road and your own gaze trained out the window, occasionally taking small sips of the cold bottle of water clenched in your hand.

"you don't need to come in, i can find my way home from here." you unclipped yourself as leah pulled up outside the small block of shops where the twenty four seven pharmacy was.

"thank you leah." you spoke sincerely and softly, leaning across the console to kiss her cheek, slipping out of the car before the blonde could even get a word out.

she sat there stumped for a second watching your figure disappear into the pharmacy, shaking her head and hurrying to unclip her own belt, turning off the car and hurrying in after you.

"leah what-" you looked up in surprise as she appeared beside you, crinkle of confusion in your eyebrows as the blonde opened and closed her mouth a few times.

"sunglasses! i need sunglasses and...pads?" she floundered around for an excuse, grabbing a pair of shades off the rack in front of you and slipping them on with an awkward smile.

you couldn't help but chuckle, seeing what she was doing but appreciating it none the less. "thank you." you smiled, leah nodding and darting off to grab the pads she had no intention of using as you waited for the pharmacist.

"what can i get for you love?" the older woman eventually appeared in front of you as you shifted uncomfortably. "can i get the morning after pill please?" you asked quietly, not missing the judgement that flashed across her face though it was gone as soon as it appeared.

you jumped at a loud clatter behind you glancing over your shoulder to see a flustered looking leah scrambling to clean up the pile of baby formula tins she'd just knocked over, sunglasses still covering her eyes.

"sorry! sorry! i just...i got this." leah motioned to the tins, cheeks flushed bright red in embarrassment as you bit the inside of your own cheek to hide a smile, hearing the pharmacist sigh.

"is this pill for yourself or someone else?" the woman asked in a monotone, kindness drained from her voice as the same cocktail of shame, anxiety and disgust leapt into your mouth like bile.

"myself."

"have you considered all of your options?" the woman asked again as you frowned with confusion. "my options?" you questioned as again the woman sighed as if you were doing her a grave disservice.

"your options. have you taken a test? seen a doctor? do you know if you are actually pregnant?" the woman raised an eyebrow as your mouth opened and closed a few times, caught off guard by the questions.

"excuse me? it is literally called the morning after pill. how would she have had time to go see a doctor and take a test? not that any of that is your business." leah was suddenly beside you, sunglasses pushed onto her forehead and signature scowl on her face.

"well i-"

"exactly. so can you please get her the fucking pill? legally i don't think she's required to do anything than prove she's of age to purchase it." leah warned seriously as the womans eyes widened and she nodded, quickly rummaging around behind her.

"here." she placed it down in front of you and rang you up, your phone tapping to pay as leah stared the woman down firmly. "thank you." the blonde smiled though it didn't reach her eyes, the two of you quickly making your way out of the store and back to leahs car.

"seems all i'm doing today is saying thank you." you smiled hovering by her car, leah dismissing it with a small wave. "you might need to wait and take that in a little bit though." leah gestured for you to get into the car as she rounded to her own side.

"why?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she started up the engine, arm draped across the back of your seat looking over her shoulder with a grin.

"well because i just realised i didn't pay for these sunglasses."

"we're at your place?" you questioned later as the blonde pulled into her driveway and cut the engine off. you'd already taken the pill during the drive, missing the way leahs eyes flickered to you every few minutes to check you were okay.

"yeah i figured you probably shouldn't be by yourself, just in case theres any side effects or anything." leah brushed it off as you nodded slowly, genuinely too tired and hungover to find an argument.

you followed her out of the car and into her home, finding it strange to be stood here in broad daylight and uncertain of what was to come, awkwardly wrapping your arms around yourself.

"do you want a shower?" leah offered as you glanced down and realised you really could use one, the thought of being able to wash off the remnants of last night too tempting to turn down.

"yeah that would be great, thank you."

you exhaled heavily as you exited leahs shower already feeling better, finding a bundle of clean clothes waiting at the door for you to change into.

you couldn't help but inhale as you wiggled yourself into her clothes, drowned in the scent of leahs expensive perfume and green apple body wash, unable to deny the comfort it strangely provided you.

"all good?" leah asked as you appeared, the girl also unable to deny the weird way her stomach twisted seeing you clad in her clothes. "yeah your water pressure is insane." you chuckled making her grin, licking a dollop of jam off her thumb.

"thought you might want something to eat but i haven't exactly done my groceries yet." leah offered you a plate of toast, slight pink blush in her cheeks, something you'd not seen from the footballer the entire time you'd known her.

"its perfect." you assured, ignoring the urge to tease her for blushing knowing the girl had practically saved you today and you owed her a great debt of gratitude.

"do you want to watch something?" leah offered, thumb pointing to the lounge as you nodded, following her over here as you sat down, leah right beside you with her own plate and grabbing the remote.

"is that...just plain bread?" you asked, amusement present in your features at the blondes choice of breakfast. "yeah, so?" she scoffed defensively as you raised your hands up in surrender.

"nothing...the stomach wants what it wants." you laughed, leah kicking you playfully and grabbing her plate, settling back into the lounge and propping her sock covered feet onto the coffee table.

"you watch this?" you asked with surprise as she flicked on last nights episode of big brother. "you don't?" she questioned with a mouthful of bread as you grimaced and knocked your knee into hers.

"of course i do, just didn't picture englands captain wasted her time on trashy reality tv!" you teased taking a bite of your toast as she shrugged, reaching behind her to grab a blanket off the back of the lounge, putting down her plate and gesturing for you to put your arms up as she draped it across the two of you.

"might be a god in the bedroom but i am still human." she winked as you jokingly gagged and she pulled a face, settling back down and munching on her plain bread as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.

you weren't sure when you fell asleep but you awoke several hours later dazed and confused. you tensed realising you weren't alone, an arm draped across your midsection as you groggily rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times and coming to.

you quickly realised it was leah draped across you, a mess of blonde hair covering her face as it was tucked into your shoulder, her arm slung tightly across your midsection, other hand intertwined with yours as you realised your fingers were interlocked.

you felt weird, no-you felt good. it felt strangely right to be in this foreign position with her and that was terrifying, the subtle and warm and welcoming domesticity of the situation filled you with dread and with fear.

you couldn't develop feelings for her, not for leah.

leah who wouldn't even look at you after she'd spend hours worshipping your body and having you chanting her name among all sorts of obscenities.

leah who would just toss you your clothes and wander off for a shower or roll back over in bed facing away from you, which you knew all too well was the unspoken cue for you to leave.

yet here she was curled up into you, legs stretched out across the coffee table and tucked under a blanket, holding your hand and your body in a way so tender you had almost forgotten what sincere non sexual intimacy felt like.

so you did what countless nights spent with her had trained you to, you left.

carefully unwinding yourself out of her grip the blonde had stirred but remained asleep, allowing you the time to shrug off her clothes and slip back into your dress from the night before with a disgusted grimace at the memories they held.

folding up her clothes and leaving them on the arm of the lounge you gave her one last look, a weird longing to just wrap yourself back up in her arms all you needed to push you out her front door.

leah had woken up not long after, frown on her face as she realized you weren't beside her anymore and the clothes you'd had on were neatly folded a few metres away, and since that morning leah hadn't heard a word from you.

you sighed deeply as you watched the blonde make her way down the row of seats, smiling and shaking hands as she went but heading right for you.

"you have to be joking." you mumbled to yourself as she dropped herself in the spare seat right beside you, not missing the way you physically recoiled and pulled your body as far to the other side of your seat as you could to get away from her.

"you forgot your drink." leah offered it out to you, giving an awkward smile as you glanced at her but accepted it none the less, taking a sip and sitting it down in the holder on your right.

"i'm not thanking you." you warned her, hoping that was all she wanted and would head off to another seat but you had no such luck as she wriggled around and made herself comfortable.

"look i'm really sorry i took that way too far and-" you almost thought you might not hear from her again as the set started, leah leaning in to whisper to you as your eyes closed and you sighed again.

"its fine, just shut up leah." you sharply cut her off, the blonde nodding and leaning back, both of you pulled into conversations with other people as the box buzzed with quiet chatter.

eventually though you once again found yourself with not much else to occupy you as the chatter died out and the match began to heat up, leah muttering commentary under her breath as you chanced a look at her and chuckled at the concentrated scowl on her face.

"what?" she didn't miss it as your head snapped forwards again and you shrugged. "no go on, whats so amusing?" she questioned crossing her arms and turning her body just slightly toward you.

"frown lines." you pointed to your own forehead and back to hers with a small smile as her cheeks flushed red. "oh." she was quick to relax her face, though as you chanced another look toward her a few minutes later you smiled seeing the scowl right back there again.

"shut up i can't help it, this stresses me out." leah knocked her knee into yours and crossed her arms over her chest. "why? have you given up football for a budding tennis career?" you chuckled as she mocked you and pulled a face.

"no. but i know what the pressure is like to play a sport at this high a level, and how hard you are on yourself for every little thing. even without the eyes on you here they'll be thinking about the media, fans, family, everyone is just watching and waiting, hoping you mess up or do something dumb they can rip you apart for." leah retorted as your face softened a little at her words.

"yeah i sort of understand that." you agreed, feeling not too dissimilarly when you walked a runway. "maybe i'll come to your next show and kick a football at you." leah commented casually as your head snapped toward her, the cheeky grin all you needed to know she was messing about as your eyes rolled and a small smile tugged at your lips which you quickly corrected.

"i saw that." "you're getting heatstroke. only you would wear a three piece charcoal suit in the middle of summer." "summer? have you seen those clouds? i'll put a tenner on that we don't even get through the next set before a rain break."

and annoyingly enough of course leah was correct, the day wrapping up as the skies had opened and an icy wind was whipping around the air, nipping and pinching at every scrap of flesh it came into contact with.

you nodded along with a polite smile, chatting with a few people as you were longing to leave, the cold chill setting into your skin as goosebumps appeared and your arms were wrapped tightly around you.

finally their own car arrived and they bid you goodbye, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you checked the eta for your uber and saw it wasn't too far away.

"see i told you it would rain." you jolted as soft material settled over your shoulders, turning around to meet a familiar smile.

"don't. you're going to get yourself sick if you stand here shivering like an idiot." leah cut you off before you could even say what she knew you were about to, hands knocking away your own which tried to shrug off her suit jacket she'd draped over you.

"thank you." you admitted with a smile, leah nodding and checking her phone as you tried to ignore just how good she looked. "try not to get it wet, its not actually dad its dior!" the blonde smirked as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"got any plans for tonight?" you made conversation as the pair of you stood side by side, leah shaking her head and shoving her hands into her pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet.

before you were able to stop yourself or think it through the words were tumbling out of your mouth with a mind of their own.

"do you feel like a dance?"

a dance had been putting it mildly as you moved and swayed your body to the beat, bass so thunderous it pumped and shook the floor beneath you.

taking leah as your plus one you'd arrived to the party you'd been invited to, the blonde shocked to say the least as you'd dragged her into the large warehouse where it was taking place.

it had all started off tame enough, finding a table of your friends you sat down with leah by your side, the blondes charming demeanor taking over as she found no issues holding her own in conversation with them.

then someone had appeared with a round of shots, and well it all seemed to go downhill from there.

which hours later is what had head to the liquid confidence flowing through both yours and leahs veins, her body pressed against yours as lights pulsed around you only showing flickers of her face every now and then.

a familiar urge starting to grow in the coil of your stomach you grabbed the defenders hands, placing them on your stomach and pushing your ass back into her, leaning your head back on her shoulder and feeling her nose tuck into your neck.

“i think you’ve forgotten i know all of your tricks pretty girl.” leah laughed, lips grazing your ear as you strained to hear her over the thumping music engulfing the pair of you.

reaching up and tangling a hand in her hair you pulled her closer, lips kissing at her jaw and feeling her own hands begin to wander as your teeth tugged at her earlobe.

“and I think you’ve forgotten i know all your weaknesses, captain."

that was the final nail in the coffin, a small frown creased into your features as you felt her pull away and worried if you'd misread the signals you thought she'd been giving all night.

but all of that was blown to hell and back as her hand found its home against the back of your neck and she pressed into you again, leading you out of the mass of sweaty bodies on the dance floor.

a grin was plastered on your face as she snagged her suit jacket off the back of her chair and grabbed your hand with her other, pulling you with her toward the exit.

"hi." you smiled as the fresh air hit you, the pair of you wandering away from the drunken fallen soldiers littering the exit, leah pulling your body into hers as you hid yourselves around a corner out of sight.

"hello." she grinned back, hands falling either side of your face as your hand grabbed the back of her neck, finally pulling her mouth to meet yours as the pair of you melted into one another.

"this is a bad idea right?" you mumbled against her lips feeling her nod. "terrible idea." she pulled away momentarily, chest heaving and face flushed pink as you tangled your hands in her blonde locks and she grinned.

"so, your place or mine?"

"jesus christ leah." you exhaled shakily, rolling off of her and running a hand through your hair, struggling to catch your breath as you closed your eyes for a moment and felt her body vibrate with quiet laughter beside you.

"you still with me?" you opened them to see her hovering over you, cheeky smile on her lips as you nodded. "that certainly didn't sound fake." her smile morphed into a smirk as you pushed her and she collapsed back into the pillows beside you.

"that was what that was about? proving a point?" you struggled to get out, coming down from your fourth orgasm in a row. "no! well not the first three anyway, but that one? yeah that one was personal." leah confirmed cockily as you reached a hand over to gently slap her cheek, feeling her lips kiss at your palm with a chuckle.

the pair of you had barely made it through her front door, hands burning and twitching as you'd done your best to keep them off one another in the excruciatingly long uber ride back.

"fuck me." leah had exhaled as you wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of her the moment you'd crossed the threshold of the bedroom, tugging at her pants as she clumsily fumbled with her belt.

"i'm trying to." you'd grinned up at her making her eyes roll as she tangled a hand in your hair, having started off pleasuring her first and reaping in the moans you drew from the older girl while your face was buried between her legs.

then things had moved to the bed and leah wasted no time reminding you that just because you struck first she was the one in control, and what felt like hours later here you were struggling to return to earth.

"i should go." your body shifted back into autopilot as you'd finally caught your breath, sitting up and pushing your hair to one side of your head as you covered yourself with the blanket and leaned down to rummage through the pile of clothes on the floor for your own.

"or you could stay." you froze at that, time seeming to stand still as leah tried to push down the nerves which consumed her following her statement, fidgeting with her fingers which were hidden beneath the blanket.

“you never ask me to stay.” you still hadn't moved, arm slung over the edge of the bed and your dress in hand, this uncharted territory quite terrifying as you had no idea what would come next.

“you never seemed like you wanted to.” you sat up at that, looking down at her with a slight frown. "you never seemed like you wanted me to." you quipped back as leah sighed, running her hands down her face and flopping them onto the mattress.

"i didn't think i did." she admitted quietly, glancing up at you as you looked on curiously and nodded for her to continue. "i thought this was just casual hook ups. then you called me that morning from that guys house and hearing how upset you were made me worried, more worried than i would be for someone i didn't care about." she sighed, avoiding looking at you now.

"then we came back here and you showered and wore my clothes and we hung out and it felt good. i thought maybe we might be able to explore something more than just hooking up but..." she trailed off as now you looked away and bit the inside of your cheek.

"but then i left." you finished for her as she nodded. "why didn't you ever answer when i reached out afterwards?" leah asked as you shuffled back to lay down again beside her.

"well when i called you that morning i thought it was just auto pilot. but then you were so helpful and sweet and we did hang out which was different but not in a bad way." you paused to think over your next words.

"then i woke up and you were holding me which felt...good, and that scared me. we've never been intimate in a non sexual way and i guess i just assumed it was a reflex for you since you were asleep, because every time we'd sleep together-" you were stopped as leah cut you off.

"-i'd throw your clothes at you and expect you to leave." the blonde admitted, the two of you sharing a look and a small smile, cheeks flushed with color.

"yes. then i panicked because it felt good and different and weird, and i assumed you'd not share those feelings and just break things off anyway, so i broke it off first to save myself and here we are." your hand moved closer to brush against hers, a silence falling between you.

"so.." leah trailed off, her leg moving next to graze yours. "so..." you echoed, finger stretching to trace a line down the back of her hand.

"would you want to stay over then?" leah broke first, head turning to face you as you noticed the obvious worry in her eyes at what you would say.

"okay." you agreed, corners of your mouth tugging upward as her eyebrows raised in clear surprise. "but you’re making me breakfast in the morning.” you declared, leahs laugh echoing around the room.

"deal. jam on toast it is!" she teased, a warmth spreading through your body as her hand moved again to sit on top of yours, her fingers linking and sliding around your own, the blonde raising it up and placing a soft kiss to your palm again.

"well for me. just plain bread for you right?" you quipped back, catching her off guard as you leaned in and pecked her lips, darting back away before she could return the gesture with a twinkle in your eyes.

“a fun fact you’ll grow to love is i am a terrible chef.” leah admitted as now your laugh filled the room, shuffling closer and turning on your side to face her as she did the same, feet nudging yours apart to slot her leg in between yours.

“and what else should I know?” you smiled, pointer finger of your free hand tracing absentminded lines across her face. "mm well i eat a plain ham sandwich before and after every game, i am a huge star wars nerd, i love country music...and i would really like to take you on a proper date." leah finished with a smile that had you reeling, cheeks heating up even more.

"do the tips of your ears always go red when you're embarrassed? how have i noticed that before thats adorable?" leah cooed and tugged at them as you whined and leaned forward pressing your face into her shoulder.

"leave me alone." you grumbled, pulling your head back onto the pillow and resuming tracing the curve of her jaw. “i think you’re working backwards, I don’t normally sleep with women on the first date.” you teased, green eyes rolling playfully.

"well I don’t normally sleep with women i date.” she smiled charmingly for a moment before the realization dawned on her she'd not quite said that right and she frowned.

“no that came out wrong i meant i-" you didn't let her finish, pressing your lips against hers with a laugh, your mouths moving together in perfect harmony.

"shut up. i'd love to go on a date with you.” you promised, pecking her lips a few more times and melting at the way her face lit up. "yeah?" you nodded. "yeah."

"now something you'll learn to love about me, i've never seen a single star wars movie." you confessed, leahs jaw dropping in disbelief as she sat up so quickly it made you jolt in shock.

"what are you doing?" you questioned confused as she pulled her body away from you, rolling out of bed still completely naked and rushing around her room.

"you, are getting a movie education." she pointed to you threateningly, disappearing into her closet for a moment.

"right now? leah we just had sex i'm naked!" you laughed, wincing as a bundle of material hit you in the face, pulling it away and holding it up.

"oh this is the darth vader guy right? luke skywalkers dad?" you realised who was on the shirt as leah stopped her rushing about, stood at the end of the bed staring at you in disbelief.

"that is like the biggest plot twist of the franchise how on earth did you know that?" "leah...vater in german literally means father!"

"have you always been such a know it all?" leah scoffed as you rolled your eyes, sitting up and tugging her shirt over your head, reaching down to find your underwear.

"i'm making popcorn, get comfy!" leah called out as she darted out of her bedroom. "leah at least put some pants on!" you laughed at her naked form flitting around the kitchen.

"well another fun fact for you to know pretty girl, wearing pants is actually banned in this house."

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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rachiller · 2 years ago

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I have SO much I need to do today before the potluck but of COURSE as soon as cub said “do u want to go thrift store shopping on Tuesday” I said “duh obviously” instead of “can we do it on Wednesday even though we’ll be hungover”

#because I am an IDIOT #I have a thousand piles of laundry for one thing and I’ll be feeling like death on Wednesday bc the potluck will not be civil we’re already #planning on making a tequila punch and I bought so much wine bc Tesco had a deal on #at least it’s only like 8am so I’ve got like #time now if I can drag myself out of bed #I had weird dreams last night though and I couldn’t sleep before that so my body is draggggggging

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theoldsports · 6 months ago

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SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

��She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson #challengers movie

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tigerpeachs · 1 year ago

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Drunk On You - Itadori Yuuji

-`ღ´- tags: 18+, itadorixreader, pet name usage, afab reader, pwp, alcohol consumption, restroom sex, public sex, cream pie

-`ღ´- wc: 3.1K

-`ღ´- a/n: I didn’t get to go out because my bank account is empty AND there's a dumb storm in my area. So, while bitterly sitting on my phone, I wrote this whole thing in a single text post. Might be errors but fuck it we ball.

-`ღ´- synopsis: Itadori wants to be a protective friend, but he’s still a man and he’d be stupid to let this opportunity slip by. Basically, you go clubbing with the girls and end up creampied in a nasty club restroom. ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

Itadori Yuji was a man at the end of the day. He wanted to be a friend and a caregiver at all times to those close to him. But he can only handle so much.

He didn’t care much about going out, but when Nobara and you explained it’s important to have a guy around for safety, he begrudgingly agreed to join you guys. He feels a little out of place being the only guy around when Nobara, Maki, and you are slamming back shots while picking out outfits and make up. Sometimes Yuuta makes an appearance but tonight he’s “busy”.

Yuji didn’t believe that for a second. He probably was just sleeping in after lounging around with Toge. The thought was taken off his mind as soon as you strolled over with two shots. Tequila. No lime wedge or salt in sight. He gulped harshly, before meeting your eyes.

“C'mon Yu, please. The girls won’t drink tequila with me.” You whine to him, cheeks already flushed from drinking. He tries to laugh and puts his hand out to push the shot away, but you persist, dropping the glass. Itadori’s hand shot out to catch it. The liquid spilled across his hand and you continued your begging.

“Look! It’s less full now, you don’t even have to take a full one, so please?” You pout and your eyebrows furrowed together in a faux fashion.

He can’t help smiling at how persuasive you were. You just wouldn’t quit, would you?

“You’re gonna get me in trouble! How am I supposed to protect you and DD like this?” He whisper-yells, all to play along with his role for the night. But yet again, you pushed forward.

“Cmon, Yuu, please? Don’t make me drink alone,” your voice became softer and timid as you said the last part. You batted your eyelashes at him and nudged the shot in his hand up. Itadori always feels warm when you give him attention, and now is no different.

If he took the shot would you leave him? Or would you stay close to him, happy that he listened? Is it manipulative if he wants to do whatever makes you stay close to him?

“We’re leaving in five!” Nobara called out, causing you to gasp.

“Please,” you tried one last time. And Itadori sighed before raising the shot in the air. You smiled with those pink glossy lips and joined him.

Up. Down. Drink.

It wasn’t the worst shot he’s taken but it caused his jaw to tense and his lips pursed together. You laughed at his reaction, getting out a little sympathic “Oh Yu.”

Getting to the club was a blur. He remembers Nobara sitting in the front to control the music while you and Maki sang your hearts out in the back of the car. Then he was in the club, ordering drinks for you all.

He got himself a beer and slowly passed out the drinks. When he turned around, you weren’t there. He sighed in defeat, knowing you probably rushed to the dance floor the moment you heard a solid base drop.

Maki and Nobara, with secured drinks, were already going over to the DJ to request whatever music they wanted. Then there was you, alone in the crowd, twisting and whining your hips to the beat. He hated to admit it, but the way you danced had every guy looking your way, including him.

You rolled your body to the sound, throwing your hair to the side. Your split hem skirt was riding up quickly from the constant up and down your hips and ass did. The bass could be felt through the floor. It resonated in your ribcage as you shook your body. Dropping low, rising again, and you kept your eyes closed knowing any contact made with someone else would result in an unwanted invitation.

It wasn’t until Itadori finally reached you, that you finally let a smile grace your features. He passed you the drink and you tried saying “you didn’t have to” over the music but Itadori pretended not to hear you.

“Hmm?” He questioned and you decided to reach up and grab the nape of his neck. Your fingers slid across his undercut as you pulled him down.

“I said!” You lost your thought as his cologne filled your senses. It made your tongue heavy and you had to swallow before continuing. “I said you didn’t have to!”

Yuji pulled back a little bit to smile at you. “I know that, I wanted to,” he said. The cost of the tab was lower than the cost of some creep trying to hit on you or your friends.

Before you could admit how happy that made you. The intro to your favorite song dropped. You widen your eyes, looking over at the DJ booth to see Maki and Nobara cheering as the song starts. You laugh as other girls in the club start to dance with more vigor. Itadori did his best to raise his drink and stop it from spilling as people started to crowd the floor more.

Soon enough you were wedged between him and other girls. You tried to keep things fun and low risk by making a face and moving your head back and forth to show Itadori you enjoyed the song. He did the same, trying to move in sync with you.

You knew Itadori knew how to dance. You chalked it up to how fit he was but nothing more. You knew he settled with his two steps and light shuffling to the beat for the group's sake. You sipped on your drink, watching him through your lashes.

Eventually you found yourself with you back facing him. Yuji couldn’t help but watch you rock your body back and forth, you whined your hips, tightening and rolling your abdomen. Your ass sat right in front of him, moving up and down. He knew his face was flushed and it wasn’t because of the damn beer he was nursing.

You lose your footing, stumbling back against him. Yuji caught you with a hand on your hip. You looked over your shoulder, locking eyes with him. An unintentional invitation was presented to you both. You could probably blame it on the atmosphere and the alcohol in your system, but you both refused to move back.

You looked forward again. The moves started subtle. A whine with a dip. Itadori watched as you held the same movement for a second, letting him catch up to you. His hand on your hip ran across your front as he pulled you back against him. He rocked side to side, closing his eyes to savor your ass settling on his groin.

He’s supposed to be looking out for you.

Itadori grounds himself as your rock your ass against him. He works to follow your movements, dragging the hand on your hip across your form. He feels hot. His cock was stiffening from the moment you tried to beg him to take a shot with him. He rasped out as you danced on him, causing your ass to shake right on him.

He pulls you up, his chest right against your back. He’s at a loss for words. All he can think about is how fucking good you feel pressing against him. You’re so soft and supple. You smell so good. He tried to make sure moments like this never happened beforehand. He’d opt for other guys coming or making sure your front ways face his front. He’d leave room for Jesus if there was space to do so.

His best friend was grinding on his fucking dick and he didn’t even care to stop you. He fucking wanted it. He’s wanted it for so long. You stood straight, reaching back with a free hand to grab the nape of his neck again. Itadori looked down at your frame. You didn’t opt to say anything but with his chin hooked over your shoulder, he could see right down your skimpy top.

You boobs jiggled with each move your body made. His hand unconsciously started to drift upwards. His fingers played with the hem of your top. His muddled mind tried to work through everything going on. He felt sensitive. Between the people brushing against you both and you latching on to him, he couldn’t be bothered to recognize what song was playing or how your drink spilled over a few times.

But what he did hear, through the people, through the music, was a little soft whine that you bit off as Itadori teased the skin right under your breast. You wanted more. You wanted him to stuff his fingers down your skirt and feel how wet you are under your clothes. You wanted him to bite and suck on your neck just as you dreamed about doing to him.

He’s supposed to protect you.

Itadori lets your little hands pull at his large form. You slowly push through the crowd towards the nearest restroom. The drinks were long forgotten, dropped into the nearest trash can. The haze from grinding on Yuji didn’t pass, even though you both were separated now. You kept a hand wrapped around his as you knocked at the door in front of you. After a few seconds you rattled the doorknob and noticed it was unlocked.

He knew. He knew if he went in there with you, things would change forever. He swallowed trying to get rid of the irritation in his throat. You opened it slowly, not releasing his hand. Itadori wanted to be good.

He wanted to be a good friend for you. So he finally opened his mouth.

“Do you want me to wait outside?” He offered. But he should’ve known better than to stop you.

You continued to give him that sweet clueless look on your face. You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you started to reach for your skirt, lifting it while saying “You gonna fuck me out here then?”

Itadori rushed to push your hands down, shoving the door open. He slammed you against the door frame the moment it was closed.

It was gross there. The floor is covered in alcohol and piss, the toilet is dirty and the sink has plastic cups collecting in it. The music was muffled through the door but you could still feel the base throughout the building. But neither of you cared as Yuji rutted his hips against yours.

You whined as he kissed your skin and grinded his hips back and forth against you. Your hands gripped at his hair and he wrapped around your ass, pulling you up to his height.

“You want me to fuck you?” Itadori rasped out between the kisses. He swore he could feel how wet your puffy cunt was even through your clothes. “You want my dick? Hmm?” He pressed forward. You whimpered instead of answering.

“Talk to me, pretty,” he begged. His hips halted and he pulled his face back to look at you.

Oh fuck.

Your eyes were glassy and your lip gloss tempted him under the crappy lighting. You looked like you were on the verge of tears from all this unintentional teasing.

“Please, Yu, i'm so,” you hiccuped and your hands grabbed at him for emphasis. “I’m so wet, please fuck me. Pretty please?” Yuji groaned before leaning in. He slotted his mouth right over your plump ones. You moaned and reached down for his cock. Your sloppy hands did their best, and after consistently fumbling, you finally got his belt undone.

You sighed into his kiss, letting his tongue overtake yours. His lips moved in motion with yours, tongue swiping over yours every time you pressed forward. Yuji tried to slide a leg underneath your cunt but you finally remembered the task at hand. You went back to fumbling with the button of his pants and moaned when you finally got them undone.

Itadori could faint from feeling your fingers urgently searching for his dick. He knew his tip was leaking in his underwear. He’s been hard for too long and he can’t wait to feel you wrapped around him. He’s jerked off so many times wondering about how good that pussy would feel on his fingers. On his tongue. Oh fuck and especially on his cock.

Yuji opted to hold you back with one hand, tugging down his underwear and pants down just enough that his cock was free. Within seconds your skirt was bunched around your waist, panties slipped to the side and finally his tip caught on your entrance.

“Oh fuck me,” You rasped out as he worked the first inch inside of you. He was big. Your best friend Itadori was fucking big. Without thinking, Yuji drops your pussy on his clock. Your whole body seizes up as you force your head into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Yuji sputtered your name as he bottomed out. Every fucking ridge of his cock was engulfed in your warm wet pussy. He could feel your slick dripping down his balls. He grabbed at your ass to ground himself. You both dropped your mouths in awe. Your whole body felt like it was subjected to this moment.

You clamped down and gasped as Yuji tried to move forward. He gritted his teeth, rubbing his forehead against yours. “Don’t, fuck, don’t tighten up like that, I’m trying not to cum right now.” His admittance caused you to grip him more. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder, nails running across his undercut like before. You finally met his warm eyes, and blushed at the expression on his face.

You’ve seen Itadori in awe a lot. He’s someone who enjoys life at every moment. His smile was infectious and he’s adored things before, but the look he was giving you caused something deep inside you to flip over and over again.

“You okay?” He asked. Itadori was a man. As much as he wanted to slam into you, he was also your friend. He cared for you unlike anyone else.

You sniffled before responding.

“Yeah… just not used to something so big.”

He laughed at that, resting his forehead against you as you continue to rub at his undercut. Didn’t he tell you he wasn’t trying to cum too fast inside you?

“You’re such a sweet talker,” he gets out before kissing your cheek. “Am I okay to move, pretty?”

“Mmhm” you get out, recognizing the initial stretch has passed. “Please need you too,” you get out right as he pulls his hips back. From the first thrust the nerves in your body and firing off. Your pussy feels so raw, each thrust working you open more and more. You felt so full. You felt consumed by him.

Small moans slip from your lips as Itadori works into a regular pattern. You feel him circle his hips as he enters and exits your core. The added motion built more wetness from you.

“Fuck, just like that, Yu,” you whimper digging your nails into him. Itadori had a hard time concentrating. You were gripping him from all over. Your hands tugged at his shirt, trying to ground yourself. Your arms were wrapped around him, keeping him close. And your pussy, fuck, it felt like it never wanted him to leave.

You moaned at every thrust he made, those sweet lips prompting him to keep going. His hands slid from your ass to your thighs, he pinned you against the door and pulled back enough to look down. You whined at the loss of contact but followed his eyes down.

He continued to fill you. Rocking his hips with intention instead of mindlessly thrusting inside your sweet pussy. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, face scrunching up in pleasure.

You dropped your mouth open, letting out a loud moan at the sight. His cock was fucking soaked. Your juices covered everything from his abdomen, shaft, and balls, all the way to your folds, clit, thighs, and even the sorry excuse for panties that you had on. He whined at how you tightened up at the sight.

“Like watching me fuck you?” He questioned only for you to moan and nod in response. You tried your best to thrust your lower half forward in Yuji’s vice-like grip. Your best friend's dick felt soooo good digging in your guts.

“Mmhm, fuck me, Yu. Don’t stop,” you cried out as he picked up his pace. Yuji leaned back in, watching your face as he continued to fuck you just how you like. He was stretching you out so good. The friction he provided had your toes pointed and nerves on edge. You felt your stomach tightening up with each thrust he worked in.

“I’m close,” you get out softly. Itadori groaned. You were gonna cum on his cock. He couldn’t wait. He needed you to. He piston his hips, locking his lips against yours again. The feeling of his tongue teasing yours along with his bruising pace had you whining.

“Fuck, Yu,” you tried to get out between kisses and moans. He nodded, sliding his lips against yours in the motion.

“I know, I know, me too, baby,” he grits out. Soon you felt that band inside you snap. Your nails dug into his skin as your body seized up. You threw your head back, and couldn’t help but close your eyes at the pleasure shot up your spine throughout your whole body.

Yuji felt his balls tighten and fucking groaned feeling you clench and milk his dick. He was cumming. He was cumming hard right inside your pussy. The thought made his dick throb as you continued to clench and clamp down on him.

“Fu-uck, oh god,” Itadori cried out as you moaned. His sperm felt so good, warm and soothing against your beaten walls. You felt yourself calm down first, petting Yuji's jaw to bring him back to you. You kissed at his sweaty forehead humming as he pulled you up.

A pop sound resonated in the restroom, followed by Itadori’s moan. Fuck, you’d be the death of him. He finally set you down, wincing at the sight of your thighs covered in bruises from his fingertips. His eyes trailed upwards to look at your swollen pussy. A mix of cum dripped from your gaping hole. You shuddered as you slid your panties back in place and tried to fix your skirt.

Yuji hissed as he grabbed at his cock, and slipped it back in his pants. Before he could apologize in the post sex haze you’re giving him that sweet smile again.

And something tells him that you’re going to persist with getting him wrapped around your fingers again.

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lightsoutletsgo · 7 months ago

Text

welcome home — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (occasional allusions to reader being thick and a little chubby but mostly non-descriptive of body!)

word count: 4.5k

warnings: (hold onto your hats folks, it’s a long list 🧍‍♀️) SMUT!! porn with very little plot, don’t be silly, wrap your willy! creampie, breeding kink, allusions to oscar being bi, use of sex toys, light degrading (slut, whore), a hint of overstimulation, spanking (ass and thighs), mentions of reader making a HECKIN lot of mess, oscar catches reader and watches her without her knowing!!

hi loves! this is the fic I wrote last night after the tequila hit and when I read it this morning to proof read it I was like 'wtf did I write?' 😭 I was debating if I should add the whole making out with the toy right there situation but my lovely beta reader @softieekayy said it was perfectly ✨spicy✨ so it has stayed in! as always, read at your own risk. please DO NOT read if you are not 18+! happy reading! mimi 🤍

God you hated triple headers. Okay that was an exaggeration, you loved the excitement of watching your boyfriend do his thing from the other side of the world but what you hated was the fact you didn’t get any of his… attention for a couple of weeks.

At first the big orange dildo had been a joke. One of your friends had bought it for you when she learned of your relationship with Oscar, “for those weekends you’re alone.” She had said. You had laughed at the bright papaya colour and brushed the whole thing off, denying you would ever need a use for it. But now as the box it sat in stared up at you from the bottom of your wardrobe, you felt a thrill rush down your spine, pussy clenching involuntarily at the thought of being filled up after so long. You leaned against the wardrobe door, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before slamming it shut and storming back across the room to the bed, throwing yourself into the plush comforter and pillows to let out a yell. You rolled onto your back and sighed. No. You would just wait for Oscar to come home. You could handle a few more days, right? Closing your eyes, you turned your head into Oscar’s pillow and inhaled deeply, moaning at the way his scent invaded your nostrils. God you needed him. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away and focused on sleeping. The faster you slept the sooner tomorrow would come right? Which meant the sooner Oscar would be home.

You gasped as you felt fingers digging into your thighs and your eyes flew open to see Oscar between your legs, his eyes staring back at yours, hazy with lust as he sucked and nibbled on your clit before dipping his tongue into your cunt to get a taste of your sweetness. Your hands flew to his hair as your back arched. You had no clue where your clothes had gone but you didn’t care, too caught up in the way Oscar wrapped his lips around your clit and shook his head side to side. A shriek left your mouth and your legs closed quickly before he spanked your inner thighs and pushed them open, “Taste so good angel…” Your head dropped back onto the pillow as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Bucking your hips up you tugged at Oscar’s hair and he let out a growl into your pussy, the vibrations doing nothing but heighten the sensation building in your lower stomach. “O-Oscar…” He smirked up at you, “Yes angel?” “Gonna cum!” You squeaked out at his unrelenting movements, “Then cum for me angel, make a mess all over my face hmm?”

Your eyes snapped open and you jolted upright. It had been a fucking dream? You groaned and led back down, a hand coming up to feel how warm your face was. But it felt so real? You whimpered and squeezed your legs together, already able to feel how much you’d dripped everywhere and soaked your panties. You bit your lip, sliding a hand down between your breasts and stomach, feeling the way your breath caught in your throat the closer you got to your thighs. Sliding your panties off underneath your - well, Oscar’s shirt - you gasped as you realised just how soaked they were and how much of your slick had coated your inner thighs. Sliding your hand down you moaned as you began to rut your pussy against your hand, already turning feral with need. You let out a loud groan and huffed.

Standing up and walking over the wardrobe before grabbing that darn box. Unpacking the dildo and quickly washing it off under the bathroom sink you slid back into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. You stared at the toy in your hand for a moment, it was just a little over average size, more girth than length, and you couldn’t help but shiver when you realised it was a similar size and shape to your boyfriend. You noted how it had been moulded with a few veins here and there for texture and your mouth watered at the thought it conjured up, of Oscar's cock on your tongue and the way he would groan when your tongue traced the veins on his length.

Lying back down and pulling Oscar’s t-shirt up to halfway up your tummy, you gently dragged the dildo up your inner thighs, enjoying the way you felt your pussy leak onto the sheets. You decided quickly that you’d had enough of teasing yourself and so you moved the toy up to your burning core.

The toy was cold as it rubbed up and down your lips and you bit your lip, relishing in the tingling sensation everytime it caught your clit. You briefly wondered if you needed lube, but with how much you were dripping you figured you could get some later if you needed it. You dipped the tip of the toy into your entrance and your breath shuddered, “Fuck…” A moan came out involuntarily as you sank the toy into your waiting pussy a little further, relishing in the way it stretched you out so deliciously. “Mmm… Oscar…” You couldn’t help the way your boyfriend’s name slipped from your lips as the toy slid into you more, the textured veins on the toy exciting all those spots inside of you. You let out a satisfied sigh when the toy was pushed into you to the hilt and you gave yourself a moment to enjoy the full feeling it offered, before you were pulling it back out to the tip, mouth dropping open as it dragged against your walls, the silicone quickly warming up to your body temperature.

You started off slow and gentle, shallow little thrusts that had you whimpering and whining as you fucked yourself the way you knew Oscar would. The hand not using the toy flew up to pull your t-shirt up even more to expose your tits and pinch your nipple. You hummed happily, enjoying the feeling but it was quickly proving to not be enough. You spread your legs wider and began to move the toy with a little more force at a faster speed. Your moans grew a little louder, mixing with the slick wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your hand slid down from where it pinched and pulled your nipples to gently rub your clit. You felt the way you clamped down around the toy and how it made it a little harder to thrust and you smiled, knowing that feeling was something that drove Oscar wild.

At the thought of your boyfriend you let out a rather lewd sound, moving your hips up to meet your hand as you started pounding your cunt with the toy. You were drunk on the feeling, moaning like a pornstar, rubbing your clit faster. You could feel your juices all over your hand and you could hear the way you were creaming all over the toy.

But what pushed you over the edge was turning your head into Oscar’s pillow once more, inhaling and drowning in him as you came. Clenching down tightly onto the toy as your back arched and your legs shook. Practically crying out Oscar’s name, you almost growled with frustration as your hand didn’t stop, despite how tired you were, still needing more.

You let out a whimper as your hand cramped and you knew you needed to change positions. Slipping the toy out your eyes widened as you saw exactly how much of a mess you had made all over it. You pushed yourself over onto all fours and buried your face into Oscar’s pillow, moving your hand underneath your stomach and pushing the toy back into you as you fucked yourself face down ass up.

The toy easily slid back into your eager hole and you moaned at the feeling. You didn’t hesitate with teasing yourself this time, instead fucking yourself hard straightaway, a deep moan leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back. From this new angle, the toy reached even deeper and you needed more of it. You continued railing yourself, moaning and whining Oscar’s name with everything you had in you.

Oscar sighed with relief, feeling all the tension and stress leave his body as the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment complex. Climbing out with his bags, he thanked the driver and headed up to your shared apartment. He knew it was the early hours of the morning and you would still be asleep but if he could be quiet enough then maybe he could surprise you in the morning with his arms wrapped around you. God he’d missed you. As he reached the doorway of your apartment his stomach flipped with excitement and he didn’t think he’d ever unlocked the door or put his bags down so quickly, desperate to have you in his arms again. But when he got to your bedroom door he stopped. Oscar’s hand hovered over the bedroom door handle as he listened to the noises drifting through from the other side. Were you moaning? He heard the noise again and he didn’t have to strain his ears to pick up the slick wet sounds of you playing with your pussy. He gulped, unsure of what to do. Did he go in and risk you feeling upset and cornered? Or did he deprive you of what you so clearly wanted? Oscar’s head tipped back in a silent groan as another whimpery moan slipped through the door. He opened the door and hsi mouth dropped open at the sight. He’d expected to maybe see you on your back with a hand down your panties but what was in front of him was much more lewd than that. There you were, your ass up in the air jiggling deliciously as you pounded a toy in and out of you, a toy that was the same colour as his car? Oscar growled low in his throat and started to take a step towards you but what stopped him in his tracks was the sight he saw when he got closer to you, noticing how you actually had his t-shirt in your other hand and you had it held up to your face as your eyes rolled back and you drooled everywhere. A louder groan tore from his throat and you shrieked at the intrusion, toy dropping out of your pussy, allowing him to see your pretty hole fluttering and clenching for a moment before you were sat on the bed and staring at him with wide eyes, his t-shirt held up over your body in an attempt to cover yourself. “Oscar!” “Hi angel…” Everything was still and silent before he was on you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, dropping his t-shirt to instead grab at his hair. Oscar growled before he pulled away from you,

“Put that toy back inside you, right fucking now.” “What?-” “You heard me angel and I’m not in the mood to play games right now…” Oscar’s eyes were dark and you felt your thighs squeeze together as your hand searched the bed for where you’d thrown the toy in your surprise. You found it and led back on the bed, slowly spreading your legs to let him see your pussy lips and inner thighs glistening with your juices. He hissed and licked his lips at the sight of the creamy mess that had gathered at your entrance. “Go on then… put it back in angel.” Your eyes shot up to look at his, “A-are you sure?” He spanked your inner thigh sharply, “Did I stutter?” You shook your head and slid the toy back inside you, gasping. Oscar sucked in a breath through his teeth and slid his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you. You whined and bucked your hips up. He laughed and repeated the motion, enjoying the way you were already gasping underneath him. “Feel good baby?” You nodded and gasped as he led down on his stomach so his face was level with your cunt. You did you best to close your thighs but a sharp look from him had you opening them up once again. Oscar licked his lips and you felt his hand cover yours at the base of the toy. You removed your hand and whimpered as he started fucking you himself. God this was so hot. You didn’t think it could get any better and then you felt his tongue on your clit.

Just like in your dream your hands flew to his hair as you were catapulted straight into the buildup for another orgasm. Oscar let out an appreciative moan as he tasted you for the first time. If he was phased by the fact he was effectively licking a fake cock at the same time he was licking your pussy, he didn’t show it, if anything it seemed to make him more enthusiastic, occasionally pulling the toy out completely to lick up the mess at your entrance and then licking and sucking the tip of the toy to taste your sweet arousal from the deepest parts of your pussy. The sight had you moaning and squirming and he fucking noticed… Perhaps the two of you needed to have a conversation at some point…

You were pulled from your thoughts by Oscar taking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive button. Your hips rocked back and forth against the toy as you rode his face, “Mmph, fuck yes angel,” Oscar murmured against your clit, feeling how your pussy had tightened around the toy as he struggled to pull it out,. His tongue swirled around your clit, his drool spilling down your pussy and onto the toy making it even more slippery as he thrust it in and out of you. Your hands tangled in his hair as you felt yourself get close, “Baby!” You warned him, Oscar just hummed, your clit still in his mouth and you grabbed at his hair and his shoulders, his hands, anything you could as you tumbled over the edge, back arching and toes curling. You moaned and whimpered as you came, Oscar pressing soft kisses to your clit to draw out your orgasm even longer. You let out an even louder whimper when he pulled the toy out, hating how empty your pussy felt as you squeezed and throbbed around nothing. You stared at the toy in Oscar’s hand and then back up at his face, leaning forward you kissed it softly before licking the tip, taking it into your mouth and gently sucking on it. Oscar groaned at the sight and grabbed your waist with his free hand, pulling you up to his eye level. You giggled as a plan formed in your mind and you gently pushed his hand towards his lips instead, he seemed to understand as he licked your arousal off the toy himself, eyes fluttering shut as he tasted you. “C’mere,” you whispered to him quietly, gently holding his face with one hand as your other hand moved down to squeeze and stroke him through his sweatpants. Your lips also wrapped around the toy and you licked into Oscar’s mouth, making out with him with the dildo between you.

You giggled as you felt him throb through his clothes, clearly enjoying this new experience. You moaned as Oscar broke away from you to duck his head into your neck and leave some sloppy kisses there. You continued to suck the toy off, closing your eyes and putting on a show you knew was getting harder to ignore. Oscar looked back up at you and his mouth gaped a little at how hot you looked. Grasping the toy in his own hand once more he gently pushed the toy down your throat and hissed as you stared up at him, big doe eyes looking at him so sweetly,

“Back on your hands and knees baby.” His voice was low and though you’d been fucking yourself for a while, you still felt another wave of arousal course through you.

Turning round you yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, “Such a fucking slut baby… is this what you do when I’m away hmm?” He leaned over you to bite your earlobe and kiss your neck as he pulled his sweats down. He was ridiculously hard, pre-cum already dripping from the tip of his cock and he smeared it across your pussy lips, sticky and messy. You moaned and tried pushing yourself back onto him but he simply tutted and held your plush hips in place with one arm while he other hand spanked you again, relishing in the way your flesh rippled from his hand, “You just couldn’t wait hmm?” You mewled and shook your head, “M sorry Oscar just missed you too mu- Oh!” You stopped mid-sentence as he thrust into you at once, moaning as his head dropped to the middle of your back. Pressing gentle kisses down as he straightened up, slowly pulling out in a way that had your arms collapsing and your head falling into the pillow.

“You okay angel?” He breathed, leaning over you again to check in and you nodded, “M okay Osc, promise. Just need you to move, please!” He nodded and pulled out slowly, smirking at the way your body shuddered and shook under him, before he started a relentless pace. His hips slapped into your ass and you fucking giggled as he fucked you. Something about that made Oscar throb. Your pussy convulsed around him as you mindlessly babbled at him, too fucked out to make sense anymore, “Yes fuck Oscar, baby it’s so good, so big, so big fuck,” You gasped, “missed your cock so much baby, missed worshipping it, fuckkkk want it in my mouth, gimme your fingers please?” Oscar obliged and the hand not guiding your hips pushed two fingers into your mouth. Oscar’s own eyes rolled back as he felt you drooling and sucking. “Not enough Osc, need more!” You cried out and his eyes caught sight of the orange toy that now lay discarded next to you, still covered in your arousal. Oscar smirked to himself once more, removing his fingers from your mouth and picking the toy up. He moved close to your ear, wanting to see this up close as he whispered, “You need more angel? Then here you go.” he tapped the dildo against your lips and you hummed happily, greedily opening your mouth to stuff it full of the silicone toy. “How is it angel hmm? Tasting yourself on that toy?” You gave an enthusiastic moan, smiling even with your mouth full and Oscar found himself staring at you adoringly, never wavering in how his hips pistoned in and out of you.

He straightened up, allowing you to fuck your own throat with the toy, focusing on gripping your fleshy hips and tummy and fucking into you. He could feel himself sweating and his hair was in his eyes but still he would not stop. He let out a guttaral groan when he realised that you were now bouncing back to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself and humping his cock. His hips stilled for a moment as he let you grind, working for what you were so desperate to have, “There you go… mhmm good fuckin girl that’s it… atta girl.” He praised you as you grew even needier, throwing yourself back with more and more enthusiasm each time.

“Oscar!” You squealed as a hand snuck down to softly slide over your clit and you froze, thighs shaking from the stimulation, “Easy, angel, I got you…” You stuffed your mouth full of the toy once more and led there, happy to be on the receiving end of his attention and affections. Oscar continued to rub your clit and he smoothly rolled his hips into yours, loving every squeak and whimper and moan and mewl he elicited from you.

You fought to keep your eyes open as you felt that pressure building and building between your legs. “Oscar…” You pulled off of the toy to warn him you were close, Oscar’s response was to simply lean down over you, practically mounting you as his hips refused to stop, now pounding into you.He grabbed the toy and threw it to one side, smashing his lips to yours in a messy exchange of spit and breath and moans. You whimpered, the slight change in his position causing him to rub against your g-spot with every push and pull thrust. You could feel your body climbing higher and you scrabbled to grab the hand near your head and link his fingers with yours, “Fuck baby!” You cried and Oscar knew the sound immediately, “Cum for me angel, there you go, atta girl…”

He cooed at you as you came hard. Moaning into his mouth and squeezing his hands as your pussy convulsed and fluttered around his cock. Oscar’s head dropped to the pillow next to you as he did his best to hold it together, wanting to fuck you through your orgasm. You giggled as you came down from your high, gasping when his hips circled, keeping his cock deep inside you as he did. You legs gave out and you slid to lay down, Oscar following you down gently as he started to softly rut into you, grinding and circling his hips this time rather than thrusting, he kissed your neck softly before biting lightly, not enough to mark but just enough to feel it there, “Missed you so so much angel,” You gasped, “Yeah?” “Mmm…” He moaned, “Been fuckin torture being away from you…”

You tipped your head to the side to allow him to leave more kisses between words, “Missed your pretty eyes, your soft lips, these gorgeous thighs, your perfect hips, your sweet cunt.” He emphasised the last word with a soft thrust and you smiled, loving how he took care of you but now it was his turn, “Missed you too baby…” Oscar laughed and kissed your cheek, “you did hmm?” “Yeah… missed your freckles and your arms holdin’ me, missed your pretty hands, your head in my lap, missed your hips and missed… oh…” a soft moan cut you off, “Missed what angel?” Oscar rolled his hips particularly deep and you inhaled sharply, “Missed your cock!”

Oscar tutted at this, “Sure didn’t seem like it baby… you had that toy stuffed in your sweet hole pretty good when I got home…” You whined, “Didn’t feel the same, didn’t feel as good!” You reasoned, Oscar’s hips began to move a little more, beginning that familiar motion of sliding in and out of you. He could feel how you’d not only made a mess on your own thighs but his thighs too, and his hips. “Didn’t feel as good hmm? You certainly seemed to be enjoying it?” “Just missed you too much!” A hand snaked up to gently take hold of your throat, not to choke you but enough to remind you of who was in charge. You panted as his thrusts increased again, “Please Oscar, wanna feel you full me up!”

His eyes closed and his head rested against your shoulder as he heard you begging for his cum, “Need to feel you fill me up, please? Be so fuckin good for you Osc, I promise!” You heard him growl next to your ear, a low sound that had you determined to make this man lose his damn mind. “Yes, just like that baby, please don’t stop please please please!” You kept begging him over and over, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was spilling out of you, “Please baby, show me just how much you missed me, yes yes yes! Fuck. Make me fuckin take it come on baby… ‘S so fucking good Oscar… only one that can make me feel this good. Mmm fucking love your cock oh my GOD!-” Oscar’s hand tightened round your throat a little as his hips slapped into yours with more need once again, too turned on by your begging to do anything else, “Gonna fill you up angel, “Yes!” You cried out, Oscar felt his balls tighten and his cock throb, “Gonna breed my pretty girl, cum nice and deep inside you hmm? Mark you from the inside shit, FUCK! I love you!” With a loud growl, Oscar’s cock throbbed as he shot ropes of his thick hot cum deep inside you, just rocking back and forth as he made sure to spill every last drop into your greedy cunt.

He pressed a long kiss to your neck, then your cheek and then the side of your head.

With Oscar on top of you and having already cum multiple times, you felt all warm and cosy and you couldn’t help the way you immediately felt sleepy, “Welcome home baby…” Oscar chuckled and rolled off of you, pulling you with him to cuddle into his side, “Angel, have you even slept yet?” You yawned as you nodded, “For a couple of hours at least…” You trailed off feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once, “Oh no no no angel, bathroom first, then water, then sleep!” You groaned but Oscar was firm and you knew he was right. He helped you to the bathroom and then went to grab water while you finished up. After falling into bed together you immediately cuddled up to him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you threw you leg over his waist, his hand automatically rubbing your thigh. Things with Oscar always felt so right, so natural, so normal. You gave a contented sigh and Oscar snorted as he spotted the bright orange toy in the corner of the room from where it had gracefully landed after being flung off the bed earlier. You followed his gaze and giggled as he broke into full laughter, “Papaya Y/N? I mean, really?” You shook your head, “It wasn’t me! One of my friends bought it as a joke gift and today was the fist time I…” You trailed off and he squeezed you tightly, understanding what you meant, “We should definitely talk about what was going on between you and that toy though…” Oscar blushed and you kissed his cheek, “Don’t worry baby, it was hot!” Oscar smiled at you, settling down to fall asleep with you in his arms, “What a welcome home ey?”

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

#mimi.writes #mimi.thirsts #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x plus size reader #f1 smut #f1 fic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri oneshot #f1 oneshot

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likeumeanit9497 · 3 months ago

Text

you jealous? | c.s. & m.s. |

chris sturniolo x reader x matt sturniolo

summary: y/n's secret fwb, chris, teaches her a lesson on sharing.

warnings: SMUTTTT; unprotected p in v; fingering; handjob; oral (f receiving); dirty talk; lowk toxic chris (srry); 2 boys 1 night ;); 18+

notes: hiiii guys!! sooooo i know i have been painfully inactive AGAIN over the past few weeks BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!! so yes i got back from my trip at the start of aug, but i made a super stupid last minute decision to go back to college this fall, so i had to do all my applications, find a new place to live in a new city, AND move out of my old place all since i've been back. sooo i've been a bit busy hence why i haven't been able to write or post anything since the start of the month. BUT to make it up to u all i decided to write a fic for both the matt and chris girlies teehee. side note this is probably the closest i will ever get to a chris x matt x reader threesome okay i can't handle much more than this before it starts feeling weird af, BUT i hope u guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it (can u tell the duo streams are making it hard for me to pick one straight triplet to thirst over for the week?? hope someone relates) love u all and can't wait to write some more nasty shit <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

As I walked through the front door at the party, I really didn’t know what to expect. Sure, the flashing lights, loud rap music, and the sinus-burning waft of alcohol that flooded my senses as soon as I opened the door were a given, but there was so much uncertainty in my life that the night was feeling almost surreal.

“There she is!” I heard Nick’s bellowing voice through the sea of people as I walked up the front steps and entered the living room. Nick was my best friend, and had been since him and his brothers moved to Los Angeles, and he had decided to throw a ‘small’ party for me when I told him that I got a promotion at my job. Nervous to have so much attention on me at once, I smiled sheepishly as he ran over to me with a bottle of tequila in his hand.

After squeezing me so hard that I thought my ribs might break, he waved the half-empty bottle in my face. “You look sober. You can’t be sober at your own party! Let’s go take some shots.” By his rushed speech and disheveled appearance, I could tell that he had been drinking for a while prior to my arrival. And he was right, I was sober, and with the number of eyes on me and unrecognizable people circling me, I knew I had to gain some liquid courage quick.

“I thought you said this was just going to be a small get together Nick, what happened?” I asked quietly as we reached the kitchen. He grabbed us two shot glasses from the stack sitting on the counter, and rushed to the fridge to grab me a High Noon before pouring the tequila. “It’s LA, Y/n, this is a small get together. And besides,” He handed me an overflowing shot glass, “Everyone loves you. Now hurry up and cheers me.” Rolling my eyes, I obliged; lifting my glass in the air and clinking it gently against his before bringing it to my lips and tilting my head back.

The first shot is always the worst, and this one was no exception. I felt the burn as it traveled down my throat and into my stomach, and I winced before finally giving in and chasing with the High Noon that Nick had grabbed for me. “Wooo!” Shouted Nick before pouring more tequila into our glasses. “Hold on, what are you doing?” I tried to protest by covering the top of my shot glass with my hand. Without hesitation, Nick swatted my hand away. “You need another silly. Everyone here has been drinking for hours.” Grumbling under my breath, I let him pour another one, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the person I was most anxious to see would make an appearance.

As if he had sensed my nerves, it was just then, as I was bringing my second shot to my lips, that I saw him walking up the stairs leading to his bedroom. Squeezing my eyes shut, I hurriedly took my shot before chugging half of my drink at once in an attempt to calm my mind. I still had my drink at my lips when he noticed me; his droopy blue eyes scanning the room before they landed on mine. He smirked, soft pink lips curled up in a taunting manner, before waltzing over to where Nick and I were standing.

“Hey there.” He chirped, leaning against the counter just inches away from me. “Hey Chris.” I replied, keeping my tone as nonchalant as possible as I felt his gaze burn into me. “When did you get in?” He asked as I continued to avoid eye contact. I took a sip of my drink. “Just a few minutes ago.” There was a silence between the three of us; the awkwardness so intense that I felt like I could explode. “Okayyyy, I’m gonna go say hi to a few people.” Nick stated before quickly rushing off to the living room, leaving me alone with Chris.

“So,” Began Chris, “Long time no see.” I felt him take a step closer to me before running his hand lightly across the small of my back. Reacting to his touch, I inhaled a sharp breath and my eyes shot to his. “Very funny.” I responded, my voice a low whisper as if anyone could hear our conversation above the loud music and steady chatter in the room. He chuckled, still rubbing my back discreetly. “I thought so.”

It had actually been less than 24 hours since I had seen Chris. Just the night before, my wrists had been tied to his headboard while my legs were wrapped around his waist. A few weeks ago, after a night at the bar with Nick, Chris and I had had rushed, sloppy sex on their living room couch when Matt and Nick were asleep. Since then, him and I had fucked at least a dozen more times without telling a soul. I couldn’t bear the thought of my best friend finding out that I was sleeping with his brother, and Chris couldn’t stand the thought of anyone knowing anything about his personal life. Plus, there was something so sexy about our little secret; and I worried that if anyone found out about what we had been doing, the adrenaline that flooded my veins every time he looked at me with that knowing gaze, or touched me covertly, would disappear.

Over the past few weeks, there had been moments when our secret was almost revealed. Like the one time, when I was changing in Nick’s room, when he saw the dark blue hickeys all across my chest and stomach. Or another time, when I rolled up my sleeves to wash my hands in the kitchen and Matt asked me about the marks on my wrists. Both times, I froze; but both times I was able to come up with little white lies on the spot. I had made up a fictional man — one that lived in another city and they certainly didn’t know — that I had been seeing, and after sharing perhaps too many explicit details, they had both believed me.

Other than that, there had been no other times where people seemed to have any inclination of what Chris and I had been doing — most likely because we hadn’t been around others since we started hooking up. Tonight was the first time that we were going to be drinking with a big group of people, hence why I had been so anxious about how the night might go.

“You wanna go downstairs?” Chris’ voice in my ear pulled me from my thoughts, and I felt that familiar jump in my stomach from the thought of being alone with him right now. However, I was still sober enough to remember that we had to be careful, so I took a moment and glanced around the room. Everyone seemed pretty drunk, but the night was still young, and it was too risky yet. So, I shook my head softly. “We can’t yet, let’s wait for it to get later.” I was whispering just like he had been, and I felt his hand move from my lower back down to my ass, where he cupped it and gave it a generous squeeze. “Got it.” He replied, before snaking off and leaving me alone in our corner of the kitchen. Sighing, I reached for the bottle of tequila that Nick left behind; pouring myself yet another shot. Tonight was gonna be a long night.

𓆩♡𓆪

After a few more shots and a couple High Noons, I was drunk. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to ease my nerves, because I had spent the past hour or so watching Chris get progressively closer to another girl. As I leaned against the kitchen table attempting to keep up a conversation with Matt, I watched as he went from innocently chatting with her, to draping his arm across the back of the couch where she was sitting, to him now; pulling her onto his lap as he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

I tried to act as unbothered as possible, but it wasn’t easy. It’s not like I had any romantic feelings for Chris — him and I had both made it abundantly clear that it was just sex — but I couldn’t help but see red as I watched her run her hands through his messy curls as she rolled her hips on his lap. It was just that the sex that him and I were having was so good, I selfishly didn’t want anyone else to get it from him.

Groaning under my breath, I made an excuse and snuck away from Matt before walking to the fridge to grab one more drink. As I was rummaging through the fridge’s contents, I felt a warm hand brush against my bare leg. “You ready to sneak away now?” His words were hushed just like before, but I couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious.” I replied before closing the fridge and cracking open my drink. Now facing him, I noticed he had a confused expression across his face.

“What happened? Did that girl on the couch give you blue balls?” Even as I spoke, I recognized how stupid and bitter I sounded. A slight twinkle formed in Chris’ eyes, causing me to grow even more angry. “What are you talking about Y/n?” He asked, a small smile crossing his lips. I rolled my eyes, growing increasingly more angry. “The girl who’s tongue was just down your throat. What happened to her?” I asked, noticing how drunk I was sounding. Chris stared at me for a moment, before tilting his head slightly to the side. “You jealous?” He asked, and in that moment I wanted to smack him.

“Of course not,” I said, walking in the direction of Matt’s washroom in an attempt to escape this increasingly uncomfortable conversation, “But you’re crazy if you think you’re gonna come to me only when plan A fails.” Trying the door, I realized that the washroom was locked and I groaned. Chris had followed me down the hall, and now he had me cornered. Just as I was about to turn around and get past him back to the kitchen, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into Matt’s room.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed in a harsh whisper as my sense of sight was almost completely removed by the pitch-black darkness of the room. I heard the door slam shut behind me, but when I turned around, I could just barely see the outline of Chris’ frame standing just inches from me. Just then, I heard a low chuckle come from his direction. “I can’t believe my Y/n is jealous.” He said, taking a few more steps in my direction before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him.

“You know that you’re my favourite girl baby,” He started, bringing a hand to my throat and squeezing gently. My head was tilted up, and in the poor lighting the only thing I could make out were his bright blue eyes reflecting my own nervous expression. “But you’ve gotta learn how to share.” Before I could even roll my eyes at his statement, I felt his warm thumb press against my lower lip; urging it open. With hitched breaths, I obliged; parting my lips and opening my mouth slightly.

With his hold on my neck, he tilted my head back even further and I felt, more than saw, his lips just centimetres from mine. Then, without warning, he spit a pool of his saliva into my mouth with expert precision, and at that moment all of my walls caved in. “Now be a good girl for me and get on Matt’s bed.”

With red hot arousal already coursing through me, I didn’t hesitate before rushing over to the unmade bed in the centre of the room. The sound of my racing heart in my ears and the rush of excitement that I was feeling was enough of a distraction from the fact that I was draping my body along a bed that didn’t belong to either Chris or I. The fact that almost anyone could walk in at any moment, and the view that I had once I faced Chris, was enough to cause my head to spin.

There, just in front of me, was a now-shirtless Chris. From my position on the bed, he was looming over me; and the smirk plastered to his face was equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. My needy eyes trailed slowly down his body, first his chest; down to his stomach; then his waistband — wait, what’s that shiny thing in his hand?

As if he heard my thoughts, Chris dangled the object teasingly, allowing me to realize what it was — the silver handcuffs from his room. “Were you just carrying those around all night?” I asked, locking my eyes back on his. He shrugged. “Didn’t know when I was finally gonna be able to use them.” I rolled my eyes, but as I opened my mouth to deliver a snarky reply, I was abruptly cut off by his lips on mine.

Hungry, drunk lips moulded to mine — they tasted like him. All of my annoyance with him dissolved within an instant as he wasted no time in peeling my clothing from my body; only breaking the kiss for a moment as he pulled my shirt over my head in the space between us. Immediately, his hands flew to my lower half where he simply lifted my skirt to give himself access to his favourite part of my body.

He squeezed my ass so hard that it hurt in that deliciously erotic way. Pulling me onto his lap, I felt his growing member press against my aching core as he continued to massage my ass like it was a life source that he had been deprived of for years. Low moans passed through his lips as he indulged, and I felt my body begin to tremble in painful anticipation. “Chris.” I whined before subtly grinding my core against the part of him that I needed most in that moment. I felt his lips turn up into a smile. “What’s wrong Y/n?” His voice was playful but rough from arousal, “I could’ve fucked you hours ago, remember? Then you wouldn’t be so painfully worked up.” I groaned again, not caring how desperate I felt as I dragged my soaked core up and down his clothed shaft for the second time.

Chris used his harsh grip on my ass to lift me off of him, causing me to release a frustrated sigh from the lack of contact. That quickly changed once he slid my panties to the side and used his fingers to gingerly graze my aching centre. I released a soft hiss as his fingers reached my swollen clit; hoping more than anything that he would spend extra time there. He chuckled at my noises, but any care I might have had over that dissipated as his fingers drew rapid circles on my bundle of nerves.

Tucking my head into the crook of his neck, I had to bite hard on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out profanities from the immediate pleasure that I felt circulating in my body just from his touch. “You know, Y/n,” Chris began, his words coming out choppy from his quick movements, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were turned on watching me with that other girl.” I stayed silent, feeling tears well up in my eyes in the same way that my orgasm was welling up in my lower stomach. With all the strength I had, I managed to shake my head weakly in response to Chris’ words; causing him to chuckle.

“You might not think so, in your mind, but your pussy is telling me something different.” Just then, two of his long fingers slipped effortlessly inside of me. Unable to hold back now, I released a sharp scream into his bruised shoulder. His fingers began moving in and out of me slowly, curling right up to my g-spot each time. “Oh yeah,” His fingers began picking up speed; filling the room with the sounds of my arousal, “You hear that? You’re pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, it’s giving away your deep dark secrets.”

Moans now fell from my lips carelessly as his actions and words brought me closer and closer to an earth shattering orgasm. Maybe he was right, maybe there was a part of me that loved the thought of him being with another girl. Maybe I liked the idea of watching from the sidelines as he touched, kissed, or even fucked other girls.

Or maybe I just loved the idea that, no matter how many other girls he’s with, he will never find a better fuck than me.

That was the last thought I had before my mind was overtaken by the tidal wave of my orgasm. Arching my back in pleasure, I moaned out profanities as Chris’ fingers worked my pulsing core. I felt my legs shake as the relentless euphoria tore through my body, until Chris quickly removed his fingers from my core, lifted me up off of his lap, and bent me over the side of the bed all in one motion.

The cool air against my soaked and exposed core caused me to gasp, but still I waited exactly where he placed me with trembling limbs as I anticipated his next move. The sharp sound of a zipper filled the dark room, and after a moment I felt the heat from Chris’ member press against my wetness. Immediately and without thinking, I began rolling my hips in a weak attempt at relieving the unyielding want deep inside of me, but a firm hand on my hip promptly stopped all movements. “Wait one minute, Y/n.” Chris said, and I heard the sound of metal clanking together before the ice cold handcuffs were placed around my wrists.

I felt my stomach do a flip just like it always did when Chris tied me up in any way that he could, and once he was content with their placement, he gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands as he used his other to line his shaft up with my opening. I felt his tip slide up and down my slick folds a handful of times, causing an anticipatory shiver to crawl up my spine, before the indescribable satisfaction of feeling his length stretch my walls caused me to sigh in relief. That satisfaction was quickly replaced by gritty need as Chris began slamming his cock deep into me at a relentless pace. His hand tightened around my wrist as he gained momentum, causing the harsh metal of the handcuffs to dig into my skin; increasing the pleasure that I was feeling.

The room was filled with the sounds of my ass slapping against his front, and I knew even without him saying anything that the view he had was driving him crazy. Just as expected, his hand dropped a sharp smack to my left ass cheek before gripping onto it ruthlessly. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me baby.” Chris’ voice was already deep and guttural, and I could tell that he wasn’t gonna last very long. Moaning in response, I bit onto the comforter beneath me to muffle the sound as I relished in the feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot on each harsh thrust.

“This is what you needed, huh? I knew by your attitude you were dyin’ for it.” His filthy talk was enough to send me another strong wave of vertigo, and I felt my restrained hands desperately try to grab onto him in any way so that I could stabilize myself. “You know this cock is yours,” Chris continued, both his movements and his voice now growing choppier, “But just because something is yours doesn’t mean you can’t share.” I felt my body begin to tense up, goosebumps raised on my skin as I felt my pleasure begin to boil over.

“Fuck, gonna cum baby.” Chris’ words were rushed, and as he spoke them he quickly pulled his swollen length out of my wincing core. After a few pumps in his hand, I felt his warm fluid shoot onto my back and collect in a small pool. As he came down from his high, I heard small grunts leave his mouth and I wanted nothing more than to use my own restrained hands to milk him dry. After a few moments of silence, both of us simply catching our breaths, Chris spoke. “Sorry, Y/n, I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” He massaged my ass with his hands as he spoke.

“It’s okay.” I replied, though the screaming need in between my legs was saying otherwise. “Get up on the bed and arch that back, I’ll get you there.” His words caused my body to quiver once again. Just as I was about to do as he told me, the shocking sound of a door opening caused me to freeze in place like a deer in headlights.

“Chris who the fuck are you talking to in my ro-”

The familiar voice filled the room and deafening silence immediately followed. Chris’ hands were still on my waist, and I felt my skin grow hot in embarrassment. In the heat of everything that had happened over the past little while, I had forgotten who’s room we were in. But now, that person’s voice pulled me back to reality, and I was reminded of the fact that my naked body had been pressed against his bed as I was fucked senseless by his brother.

Still, no one was speaking. My face was buried in the comforter, where I planned on keeping it in order to avoid facing the situation I found myself in. The silence felt like a fifty pound weight pressing against my bare back, and I prayed to the universe that someone was going to speak. Just then, I felt Chris shift behind me; placing a hand on the back of my neck and leaning towards my ear.

“I know how to share what’s mine. Watch this.”

His words sent chills down my spine, and that chill was exemplified once I felt the heat of his body move away from me. Through the pounding anxiety in my head, I was able to hear a few footsteps followed by an entire conversation performed in well-executed whispers. Chris and Matt spoke in hushed tones for what felt like hours as I continued to stay in the place that Chris had left me; my heart racing and breath heaving at the thought of what they might be talking about. Chris’ last statement was ominous, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher what he meant: he wanted to share me with Matt.

As they spoke to one another, I went over the idea of it in my head. It was wrong, for sure. I was already fucking one of my best friends’ brothers, but to fuck both of them in one night was too far. Plus, I had never had any interest in Matt before. Him and I were friends, sure, but not once had I considered doing anything more with him. Because I was already fucking his brother, and his other brother is my best friend. It was wrong, end of story.

But then why did I feel a new trickle of my own arousal fall down my leg at the thought of Matt’s eyes glued to my naked body right now?

I’m fucked.

“You okay, Y/n?” I heard Chris’ voice and it pulled me out of my trance. I knew what he meant by that. “Yes.” I replied, wincing at the desperation laced through my tone. A chuckle came in response, then the sound of the door opening — bringing with it bright lights and an increase in clarity of the constant party chatter — before it clicked shut; and then, silence.

I could hear nothing around me but my own heavy breathing, and if I didn’t know any better I would genuinely believe that I was alone in the room at last. But I did know better, because I could feel his tired blue eyes on my body. I still hadn’t moved, couldn’t move. My face was still buried deep in his comforter and I was too afraid to face him yet. My legs felt like jello, and I knew that if I wasn’t already bent over his bed, I would have collapsed by now.

Finally, I hear footsteps. They were slow, and I couldn’t tell which direction they were going, but he was finally moving. Next I heard the shuffling sound of some sort of fabric, then more footsteps. This time, I was sure they were heading for me. I was proven right when I felt the heat of his body behind me. Suddenly, I released a sharp gasp when I felt the soft material of a towel against my lower back. Matt wiped the pool of his brother’s cum off of my lower back in silence, and even the accidental brush of his knuckles against my clammy skin set me on fire.

“So, this was what those marks on your wrists were from.” He finally spoke, and his voice in this setting was so unfamiliar that I physically jumped. In my silence, he assumed I didn’t understand what he meant, so I felt him tap lightly on the metal around my wrists. “The handcuffs.” He clarified even further. “Uh,” I cleared my throat, trying to sound confident, “Yeah.” At that, I felt his hands travel around the perimeter of the cuffs, trying to find something, when suddenly I heard a faint click and my wrists were free.

Taking the cuffs completely off of me, he rubbed my aching wrists gently with both hands. Even this touch, one seemingly so innocent and caring, shot waves of pleasure to my core. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” His words grounded me for just a moment; reminding me that this is in fact real life, yet still I responded with zero hesitation. “I’m sure.”

Again, silence. But this time, it was accompanied by the remarkable feeling of Matt’s gentle fingers trailing down my spine, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “Turn around for me.” His voice had dropped an octave since he last spoke, and while it was still far from threatening, it was no longer the comforting tone he had used as he took my cuffs off.

The shame I had previously felt from the situation had been stripped off of me by his touch, so I barely hesitated before lifting my head off of the bed and turning my body so that I was now facing him. In the dark, the outline of his body looked nearly identical to his brother, but I was able to easily tell the difference. My body didn’t react in excited fear when I saw his frame, but instead it responded in anticipatory comfort; as if I knew I had nothing to be nervous about.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, I watched his chest rise and fall in silence for a moment. Unable to really see his eyes, I was unsure what he was looking at, but I knew he was looking at me. Just then, I watched as he climbed onto his bed, meeting me where I was. He leaned so close to me that I had to allow my head to fall back against the comforter. Now laying on top of me, using one arm to brace his weight, I suddenly felt the lust seeping out of his veins just before his lips attached to mine.

His lips were slightly softer, and slightly fuller than Chris’, and they moved with just the slightest bit more apprehension for a moment. That quickly dissipated, however, as after just a few short moments I felt his tongue run against my lower lip; begging for access to my mouth. I obliged, and relished in the new and exciting taste of him. His lips were cold — the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin told me that was because he had just been outside — and they felt amazing against my own hot, swollen lips. As I felt one of his hands snake up to my chest, I released a soft moan. My pleasure began to double, and then triple, when I felt him squeeze my tit and run a thumb along my hardened nipple before doing the exact same to the other one.

Having complete access to my hands for the first time in what felt like forever, I used that to my advantage and began exploring Matt’s body. His frame was slightly thinner than Chris’, and I relished in the feeling of a raised, fresh tattoo against my fingers as I traveled down his arm. Reaching his waist, I grazed my hand against his clothed member; already painfully hard and pressing against his jeans. As I palmed it a few times, Matt released a soft moan in my ear before moving his mouth down to my left tit; swirling his slippery tongue against my nipple and causing me to shutter in pleasure. After taking his time with the left, he moved his mouth to the right. While Chris’ favourite part of my body is my ass, clearly Matt has found his own personal favourite.

While the feeling of his mouth on my tit was already causing my head to spin, I desperately needed more. I fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans, before slowly pulling them down his legs and hopefully granting his member some relief. With his mouth still on my tit, Matt helped me by pulling them down the rest of the way, along with his boxers. Once his boxers were off and his cock was able to spring free, I immediately grabbed it in my hand and began pumping up and down. Another soft groan left his lips, and the vibration from it against my sensitive nipples caused me to moan in reply.

As I pumped his member in my hand, I felt his own hand trail down my body before finally landing on the place where I needed it the most. As if he knew my body by heart, Matt found my clit in seconds and wasted no time before rubbing it at the same pace that I was jerking him off at. His mouth detached from my tit and found mine, but in our world of equal pleasure the kiss was sloppy; our mouths fell open at times and tongues swiped in and out mindlessly.

“Y-you feel good?” Asked Matt, his voice soft and choppy at the same time. Nodding my head, I widened my legs with the desperation of needing more. “Want to feel all of y-you Matt.” I whispered, opening my eyes and finally meeting his. In the dim light, they were glossed over. His pupils were so dilated that, if I didn’t know him before, I would have assumed his eyes were brown. He blinked at me for a quick moment, but didn’t make me wait long before positioning himself in between my legs.

I watched in awe as his body hovered over mine. I flinched slightly as he lined his member up to my opening; my core still slightly sore from a few minutes ago. Noticing, Matt looks back up at me. “I’ll go slow, okay?” Nodding, I drop my jaw as Matt sinks into me, keeping true to his word but still bottoming out. I felt every inch of him stretch me out, and as he stayed still to allow me a moment to adjust to him, I couldn’t help but release a frustrated moan. As if he has been in tune with my needs for years, Matt takes this simple remark for what it means, and slowly began thrusting into me.

Although his pace is slow, his shaft pleasures what seems like every nerve inside of me before finally reaching my spongey g-spot with a quick snap on each thrust. His movements are so pleasurable it’s almost excruciating, and I struggle to keep the moans from falling helplessly from my mouth. What’s more, is that even with my eyes screwed shut in ecstasy, I can feel his eyes on my face, taking in every expression and hushed sound that I make. “You want more?” He asks, his voice in a strained whisper. I shake my head. “N-no. Keep going just like that, please.” I reply, and I release a breathy moan when I feel him wrap my legs around his waist before continuing in the same unbeatable rhythm.

I run my hands through his dark brown hair, before allowing them to rest on the nape of his neck. I relished in the feeling of his back muscles tensing on each meticulously controlled thrust, before pulling his head down so that I could kiss him. Normally, I’m not someone who cares much about kissing during sex, but there was something about the deprivation and tenderness of his soft kiss that seemed to bring me even closer to an orgasm than his cock did. As he kissed me, his pace never wavered, but I could tell by the soft grunts falling from his lips that he was getting close.

As if reading my mind, he suddenly pulled out of me and I felt him shift on the bed. Thinking that he was about to cum on my stomach and that I was going to once again be deprived of an orgasm, I felt embarrassing tears well up in my eyes. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the sudden feeling of his tongue twirling skillfully against my clit. My hands immediately flew to his hair, and I was no longer capable of holding back the moans that fell from my lips. As he continued eating my pussy, he slid two fingers into my core and began pumping them the exact same way he pumped his cock into me just moments before.

In that moment, I was in total euphoria. I was sure that my knuckles were turning white from the death grip that I had on Matt’s hair, just as I was sure that if anyone was on the other side of the bedroom door — or, in the bathroom for that matter — they would definitely hear the filth that was falling from my mouth. But I had lost the ability to care, because all of my thoughts were highjacked by the unutterable levels of pleasure that were surging through my body in that moment.

And what made everything that much more intense, was the fact that Matt so clearly loved what he was doing to me. Every few seconds, I felt a deep moan fall from his mouth and vibrate off of my bundle of nerves, and in the off chance that I had my eyes open, watching him, I noticed him grinding his hips against his bed to gain some sort of relief. “I-I — oh fuck! — Matt, I’m c-close!” I exclaimed, feeling the waves of my orgasm rise threateningly close to the surface.

At my proclamation, Matt moved in one swift motion and slid his cock back into me. His pace was the same as it was before, but this time his thumb found my swollen clit and he began rubbing it quickly. “Gonna cum too. Where do you want me?” My legs were back around his waist, and my fingers were digging into his shoulder blades as I struggled to gather my thoughts. “Anywhere you want Matt!” My words breathless and exclamatory, I was barely able to get them out before an indescribable orgasm tore through my body.

I might have truly screamed out in pleasure, and dug my nails into Matt’s skin so far that he bled, but I have no way of knowing for sure — I had lost all of my senses through the overwhelming waves of pleasure. All I remember is feeling as if the pressure that had been building up inside of me for so long had been too much, and my brain had exploded. For what could have been minutes or hours — but which was probably only a few seconds — I truly thought that I might have died. But then, suddenly, I was back in my body, and it was convulsing uncontrollably through a life altering orgasm.

When I came back to my senses, Matt had his damp forehead resting against mine. His body had stilled above me, but I could feel his member twitching inside of me; painting my walls in his signature shade of white. Both of our breathing was ragged as if we had both just completed a marathon, and we both stayed still, in complete silence, as we came down from our highs.

After a few moments, Matt placed a soft kiss to my forehead before slowly removing himself from my centre. I watched him walk over to where he had discarded the towel, picking it up and bringing it over to me to help me clean myself up. So far neither of us had spoken, but I didn’t care very much as my mind was still not fully connected to my body. Finally, he spoke. “You still feel okay about this?” He asked as he began putting his clothes on. I smiled, almost laughing at the absurdity of the caution in his words. “I feel more than okay Matt.” I replied, to which he released a small laugh before handing me my shirt.

Once I was dressed, I managed to get myself to my feet. Standing at the edge of the bed, I suddenly felt nervous about walking back out into the party after being gone for so long. As if he read my mind once again, Matt walked to the door first. “I’ll head out first, then you can come out in a few minutes.” I laughed nervously but nodded. “Sounds good. See you out there.” I watched as his hand reached for the door knob before turning back to the bed to find my phone.

“Oh and Y/n?” I faced him again, “Chris might be good at sharing, but I’m not.”

His words made my already unsteady knees wobbly, and I dropped back onto the bed once he closed the bedroom door behind him. All at once, every moment of the night hit me like a freight train, and I finally realized what happened. I fucked Matt. Just a few hours ago, I was pretending to have a normal conversation with him as I was green with envy watching Chris make out with that girl. I had never planned on doing anything even close to what I had done with him, yet here I am, sitting on his bed. I close my eyes. I can still feel him inside of me. He was so good. But Chris was also sogood. Both of my best friends’ triplet brothers. How did I get here?

I’m fucked.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

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p0orbaby · 3 months ago

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Silver Linings

summary: you’ve had a baby and you’ve had enough, you want your wife, goddammit!

warnings: SMUT 18+, just sex alright, im too lazy to read back and see what there is

a/n: thanks for the request !

word count: 1.2k

You’re lying in bed, counting the new cracks in the ceiling. You’re convinced they’ve multiplied since the baby was born. Or maybe it’s just that you’re always staring up these days, wishing for sleep. You read somewhere that the Spanish government once paid people to make babies. But they don’t mention how they don’t pay enough for someone to come and take the baby off your hands every now and then.

But who’s counting?

Alexia’s beside you, scrolling through her phone like it owes her money. She’s wearing that ridiculous sleep shirt with Messi’s face on it—some joke you don’t quite understand but one that involves a poorly executed bet, a late-night purchase, and more tequila than you’d care to remember. You’re not sure what makes you more irritated: the shirt or the fact that she looks hot in it. Even with the dark circles under her eyes.

You clear your throat, trying to get her attention. It’s like trying to wake a bear from hibernation. She just grunts and scrolls faster.

“Hey, Messi’s number one fan,” you say, nudging her with your foot. “Put the phone down before you sprain your thumb”

She glances over at you, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, but there’s a flicker of interest there. “What? You wanna talk about our feelings now?”

“No, I want to talk about the state of our sex life,” you reply, deadpan. “Which is currently on life support”

Alexia raises an eyebrow, finally putting her phone down on the nightstand. “Oh? You wanna do something about that?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool, but the truth is, you’ve been thinking about this all day. Well, between the nappy changes, the feedings, and trying to remember when the last time you showered was.

“I mean, we probably should. Before the baby wakes up and finds out we’re trying to have fun”

Alexia grins, a little too wickedly for someone who’s supposed to be sleep-deprived. “You know, I’ve been waiting for you to say something. It’s like you read my mind”

“Oh yeah? Was it before or after you ordered that new strap?”

She laughs, the sound low and throaty. “Before. Definitely before. The new strap was just… insurance”

“Insurance?” you snort. “You mean like how some people buy a fire extinguisher for their kitchen?”

“Exactly. You never know when you’re going to need it”

You’re laughing now, genuinely, and it feels good. It feels like the first real laugh you’ve had in weeks. Maybe months. The kind that shakes off the dust that’s settled between the two of you, the kind that makes you remember why you fell for her in the first place.

She’s already moving, shedding the Messi shirt in one smooth move. There’s something almost ceremonial about the way she does it, as if she’s readying herself for battle. You swallow hard, the familiar heat building in your belly. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but tired, anything but stretched too thin.

When she climbs back into bed, she’s got that glint in her eye that says she’s up to no good. “You ready for this?”

You raise an eyebrow. “For you to pretend you know what you’re doing?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she kisses you, hard and possessive. It’s all teeth and tongue, a little desperate, a little sloppy, but it’s enough to make your toes curl. You gasp into her mouth when her hands start to roam, fingers grazing over your still-sensitive skin. Everything’s too much and not enough, and you can’t help the little whimper that escapes your lips.

“Easy,” she murmurs against your mouth. “We’ve got all night”

“Yeah, until the baby wakes up and decides to serenade us with her cries,” you mutter, but you’re already arching into her touch.

“You’re right,” she says, her voice dropping an octave, sending shivers down your spine. “We better make this quick”

You laugh, but it quickly turns into a moan as she kisses her way down your body, her hands gripping your thighs like she’s afraid you’ll disappear if she doesn’t hold on tight. You’ve missed this, missed her. Not just the sex, but the connection, the way she makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world, even when you’re surrounded by chaos.

When she finally reaches into her bedside table and pulls out the strap, the new one, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

She just smirks. “I told you. Insurance”

“Right,” you say, but your breath catches in your throat when she presses the tip against you, the cool silicone a stark contrast to your overheated skin. You’re sensitive, achingly so, and the stretch of it has you chaining air, your fingers digging into the sheets.

“Too much?” she asks, her voice softening for the first time tonight.

You shake your head, biting your lip as you try to focus on the sensation, the delicious burn that’s equal parts pleasure and pain. “No, it’s… it’s good. Really good”

She moves slowly, deliberately, and you can tell she’s trying to be gentle, trying not to overwhelm you. But there’s a tension in her body, a barely contained need that mirrors your own, and it’s not long before she’s thrusting harder, her hands gripping your hips, tethering you to the earth.

It’s overwhelming, the way she fills you up, the way she looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters. You can feel the coil tightening in your belly, the pressure building to a breaking point. It’s almost too much, too intense, but you can’t stop yourself from chasing that high, from wanting more.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your nails raking down her back. “I’m gonna—”

But before you can finish, she shifts her angle, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and it’s like a dam breaking. You come apart with a strangled cry, your body trembling with the force of it, and she’s right there with you, whispering filthy praise into your ear, her voice raw with desire.

When it’s over, you’re both a mess, caught in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat. You can barely catch your breath, but there’s a satisfied smile on your face, one that mirrors hers. It’s not perfect, it’s not the earth-shattering, movie-ending kind of sex, but it’s real. And that’s enough.

As you lie there, trying to remember how to form coherent thoughts, she pulls you close, her arm draped over your waist. “We should do this more often,” she says, her voice sleepy but content.

“Yeah,” you murmur, already half-asleep. “If we ever get the chance”

But for now, you’re content to just lie here, basking in the afterglow, knowing that you’ve still got each other. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to get you through the sleepless nights and endless nappy changes.

As you start to drift off, you hear the faint sound of the baby stirring in the next room. You groan, burying your face in Alexia’s neck. “Your turn”

She laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Fine, but only because you did all the hard work”

You snort, but you can’t help but smile as she slips out of bed, pulling on the Messi shirt once more. As she heads out to tend to the baby, you close your eyes, feeling more at peace than you have in weeks. Maybe even months.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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zyafics · 8 months ago

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PLAY FAKE | part four

MASTERLIST (series) | Rafe Cameron x Female Reader .ᐟ

Summary — When Rafe needs to secure a girlfriend for his father to see him as a viable candidate for Cameron Development, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

Content — 18+, smut, angst, depictions of jealousy + aggression, emotional turmoil, mild descriptions of violence, and usage of drugs. Reader is hyper-independent, a people-pleaser, a smart mouth, stands on business, and mysterious past. Rafe is insecure, possessive, asshole, and has mood swings.

Dedication — for @rivaiken, iykyk! <3

The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.

It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.

Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.

But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.

Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.

The only problem is he doesn't give it back.

Asshole.

You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.

"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.

You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.

Only to realize it was Rafe.

Your smile drops.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.

"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."

"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."

"Business?"

"No, at my house."

Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."

"You don't even know what it is about."

"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"

His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.

"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."

You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."

"I haven't told you the day yet."

"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.

"I'll pay you."

"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."

Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?

"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"

You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.

You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.

Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.

"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"

You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."

His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"

Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."

He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.

"I remember you were begging for it."

You slap him.

It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.

Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."

His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.

You were going to drive each other insane.

And some sick part of you liked it.

"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."

"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."

"We never said that in our relationship."

"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."

You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.

"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."

He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.

"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."

For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"

"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"

To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.

He remains silent.

You continue.

"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."

You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.

Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.

"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.

"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."

He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.

—

As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.

About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.

About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.

Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.

Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.

"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."

You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.

A notification flashes at the top of your screen.

topperthornton: hey

Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?

you: hello?

He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.

you: why?

topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn

you: so i heard

topperthornton: well, you should come

you: i don't think so, white boy

topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u

Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.

you: ?? for what

You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.

You hate it.

topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u

You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.

topperthornton: u need to come immediately

Fucking hell.

You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy.

You have to go.

There's no other way around it.

Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.

It's Pope.

"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"

"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.

"Everything okay?"

"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."

Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."

"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"

He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."

You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.

When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.

Topper spots you at the porch.

"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."

You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.

"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"

"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."

You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."

Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.

You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.

You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.

Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.

When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.

You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.

He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.

"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."

"I thought you said you had a double shift."

He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.

"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.

Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.

His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"

You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.

You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.

"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."

His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"

"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."

Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.

"I thought you needed help."

Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."

You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.

"Come here."

You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.

"I know something that would make me feel better."

You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"

"Sit on my lap."

You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.

Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.

"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.

"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."

You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.

"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."

You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."

"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."

You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.

You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.

The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.

"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"

He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."

His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.

You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.

"Don't do that."

"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."

"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."

"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."

He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.

"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."

You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.

This is done in complete silence.

Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."

You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.

"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."

He still doesn't get it.

You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."

His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.

"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."

You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.

"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."

"Easier said than done, darling."

Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.

He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.

You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"

"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."

You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.

When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.

It was easiest to talk to you.

It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.

Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.

And he used that to his advantage.

You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.

You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.

"God, your dad is a dick."

Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.

"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"

"I know what you mean."

That came out with an edge.

You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.

"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.

Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.

"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."

Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."

The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.

"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."

"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."

He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.

"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."

You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.

"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."

Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"

He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.

"Turn around."

Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.

"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.

"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."

Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.

You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.

Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.

"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."

His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"

"I look at you as I do."

A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.

You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.

And he's watching.

"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.

"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."

Fuck, Rafe thought.

With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.

"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.

You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.

"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."

When he truly means to stop torturing him.

You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.

A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.

And he's fucking hard.

Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it.

"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"

"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."

Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.

"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him.

"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."

He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.

You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.

Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"

You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"

He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.

It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.

He has enough.

"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."

He's bargaining, goddammit.

A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

Rafe growls out your name.

You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.

"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."

You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"

He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."

"My pleasure, right, baby?"

"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."

You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.

"You can touch me."

Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.

"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.

"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."

"It doesn't feel good, does it?"

Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."

You provoke further. "You love it."

He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.

"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.

"Feels good?"

"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."

Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"

He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.

"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.

"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby."

Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm.

"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."

You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.

"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."

You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber.

★ part five ★

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katsu28 · 26 days ago

Text

summer's golden haze - chapter three

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: bar hopping, damsels in drunken distress, and a late night heart to heart. (5.1k)

warnings: swearing, alcohol, lando talks about the hungarian gp shitshow

a/n: yes this is me maybe slightly projecting my feelings about hungary onto my characters okay! they're my barbie dolls to play with i can do whatever i want 😌↕️ anyways hope u enjoy <3

previous chapter | masterlist

“Hello? Are you even listening?”

You blink, bringing yourself back to reality and back to the current conversation. Your friends are looking back at you with matching concerned, albeit a little annoyed expressions. “What? Sorry, I was—I’m here, sorry. What’s going on?”

Samira tuts, but not unkindly. They all know you’ve got a million things running in your mind at the moment. “I was saying our dinner reservations got canceled. Something about the kitchen having to close down for maintenance, I dunno. Anyways, it frees us up tonight and we’re trying to figure out what to do instead.”

“Oh. We could stay in? Order some food, watch a movie?”

“I know what we need,” Camille gasps suddenly, eyes lighting up like she’s just had a brilliant idea. “We’re going bar hopping tonight.”

“Bar hopping? We haven’t done that since—” You pause, taking a moment to think. You haven’t been bar hopping since Samira got dumped by her girlfriend a few months back, the time before that when Maren finally cut ties with her situationship last year. The only time you all go bar hopping is after a breakup. They think what happened with Lando is the same as breaking up with a partner. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. He was never even my boyfriend anyways!”

“Say what you want, but you’ve been super out of it these past few days. You need to let loose, do something that makes you stop thinking of Lando and start thinking about yourself again.”

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “I think about myself plenty.”

Camille rolls her eyes at you. “I mean not in that mopey, sad ‘I say everything is fine even though it’s not’ way. There’s more fish in the sea than Lando. Find one, or don’t, it’s up to you. But you need to forget about him.”

Your lips press into a thin line as you sink back into your seat.

You don’t want another fish in the sea. You want the weird little crab with the cute accent and the sparkly eyes, the one you’ve already let back into the water.

The one you can’t have.

Things haven’t been too awkward with Lando yet, but they definitely aren’t the same. Two people who really like each other but have decided to remain friends doesn’t really scream smooth sailing from now on to you. The wound is still fresh, and there are hints of it as you spend more time with the guys.

Immediately filling the empty seat next to each other like it’s second nature but then having to awkwardly scoot away when your shoulders bump or your hands brush. Lingering glances across tables and rooms until one of you breaks and looks away first. Finding him first in a place full of other people and drifting towards him, only to come to your senses and switch up directions at the last moment.

You wish you could say forgetting Lando would be easy. It really isn’t—not when your friend groups have basically melded into one big one, and everyone gets along so well. It would’ve been easier if you’d gone your separate ways, but you don’t think your heart would’ve liked that very much. Not that it enjoys skipping a beat every time you catch Lando’s eyes on you a little too long either.

You wrinkle your nose, brows following. “I’m sad and mopey?”

“A little bit.”

“Okay, fine. Fine, let’s go bar hopping,” You concede, letting your shoulders drop.

If you’re going to get over him, you might as well start right now.

That’s how you end up in bar number one of the night, four tequila shots on the bar table in front of you. You eye the unassuming little glass warily, even as each of your friends snatch one up eagerly.

Samira, as if sensing your hesitation, nudges yours toward you. “It’s one shot, babe. It won’t kill you.”

“I know that,” You insist, throwing your shoulders back. “I just…need a second.”

“Take all the time you need. We’re going all night.”

Tonight isn’t about your feelings for Lando. Tonight is about you moving on, moving past what could’ve been with him and looking forward to what might come next. With or without him.

You hold up your shot towards them, grinning big. “Here’s to moving forward, and making memories that’ll last a lifetime!”

Clinking your glass against all of theirs, you throw back the clear liquid as smoothly as you can, only wincing a little bit at the burn of it going down your throat. It isn’t your usual drink of choice, but change has to start somewhere, right?

-------

As far as bars go, this one isn’t the worst one you’ve been to tonight, but the fun has started to wear off for you. You’d stopped drinking around bar number two, the buzz of your much tamer drink choices after those first few shots starting to die down bit by bit. On the other hand, your friends are still going full steam ahead. You’ve honestly lost track of how many drinks they’ve had at the bars you’ve hit tonight, but they’re holding on pretty well.

“Fuck boys!” Samira exclaims, slamming another shot glass down onto the table with gusto. Maren and Camille agree wholeheartedly with identical slurred ‘yeah, fuck ‘em!’s that make you chuckle into your glass of water.

You know they’re just trying to make you feel better about your decision, and in a way, it helps. You’d finally been able to talk about what went down that afternoon without feeling an indescribable rush of guilt, and although they were disappointed at first, it became less when you’d told them why. They’re your best friends, and they know you better than anyone, so they know for a fact Lando’s lifestyle was not the one for you.

Tonight was supposed to be all about forgetting your feelings, but as the night went on longer and your inhibitions became lower, you still couldn’t help but think about Lando. That mental box you’d put him has burst wide open already.

You’re a little embarrassed to admit it, but you’d done a little research on him after getting home, which turned into a deep dive of his career, his life, anything that piqued your interest in him. You were curious to know what a guy like him saw in someone like you.

It felt a little weird to see him outside the Lando you’ve gotten to know him as, because he seemed…different. He’s still the same sweet guy you know, but on video he’s a more tame version of himself.

Carefully chosen words and shy smiles, he wears his confidence like a suit of armor on camera, to protect himself against the world. Here, he’s all bursting grins and loud belly laughs, unfiltered and so, so happy. He seems so normal, it’s hard to remember that he’s not just your everyday guy. Lando is one of the best and well known racing drivers in the whole world.

Making sure to separate the two is important if you want to stay firm in your decision.

Somehow it hits nearly four in the morning, and it’s about high time you make the executive decision to call it quits and go home. The only problem is, you’re the only semi-sober one out of the four of you. You have the car, but you don’t trust yourself to drive in this state. None of your friends are in any shape to be of any help either, not when Maren is nearly passed out on the tabletop, and Camille and Samira drunkenly swaying with each other right next to you.

You don’t really trust any rideshares at this time of night in an unfamiliar place, and even then, there’s no way you can get them all home by yourself. There’s only one other thing you can think of, one other person you can call to help you out. The one person you were hoping to not have to call.

The moment your finger hits Lando’s number, you have half a mind to hang up. You’re about to, but then the line connects.

“Yeah, what?” Lando’s voice is gravelly, thick with sleep. A little grumpy. Of course he’s grumpy, it’s nearing three in the morning and he was probably asleep. You feel bad that you've woken him up, but you couldn't think of anything else.

“Lando? I’m so sorry to be calling you this late, I just didn’t know what else to do.”

Immediately, he sounds more alert when your name leaves his lips. “Is everything alright? What’s up?”

You gnaw on your lip in contemplation until he says your name again, gentler this time. “We’re at a bar in town and the girls are really drunk and we need to get home, but I had a few drinks too so I didn't think I should drive. And I tried to call an Uber but at this time of night I don’t—”

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I can come pick you up.” He interrupts your rambling and you're grateful for it, because the more you talk the more you think this was a bad idea. You’re asking him for too much, you're stretching the limits of an already awkward friendship too far, you're— “Just tell me where you are, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Drop me your location and stay there.” You can hear rustling on his end of the line, pounding on a door, someone’s groggy voice saying something you can’t make out. Then Lando’s voice fills your ear again, soft yet firm. “Hang tight, ‘kay? Be there soon.”

“Thank you so much,” You breath, truly grateful. He hangs up, and you can finally let out a breath of relief. Lando is coming. You won’t be stranded here.

Lando jumps out of the car as soon as it pulls to a stop in front. He’s got on some nondescript jumper with the hood pulled up over his head and a random pair of joggers, and he definitely doesn’t look like he’d just been roused from his sleep. In fact, seeing him all disheveled with worry like this is kind of doing it for you.

You’re in the middle of apologizing again when Lando crashes into you, arms wrapping around you tighter than you’re expecting, nearly squeezing the breath out of you. You meet Max’s eyes over his shoulder, who you’d just realized was also here, and he doesn’t look surprised at all. He looks rather smug, actually.

“Are you okay?” Lando holds you at arms length, worried eyes scanning you for anything out of place, any injury. Other than your pride, you remain unharmed. Though that pesky fluttery feeling in your stomach is back again, as is the warmth in your chest, and it isn’t from the alcohol.

His hood has fallen off from the force of his hug to reveal the tornado of curls on his head, flat on one side from his pillow most likely, as are the lines on his face from what was probably a good night’s sleep. Until you called, that is.

You blink at him, caught off guard by the amount of care he still seems to have for you. It feels like an impossible feat to tear your gaze away from his. “Yes? I mean, yeah, I’m fine. You—wow, you got here fast.”

“I thought maybe something—nevermind.” He cranes his neck around you to glance at your half asleep friends on the bench. “Are…they okay?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. Tequila, y’know?” You shrug.

Max lets out a snort of laughter from where he’s wandered over to check on them, waving a hand in front of Samira’s face. She swats at him halfheartedly, mumbling a sleepy, “Fuck off, Fewtrell.”

“Sorry to wake you too, Max.”

“Oh no, you didn’t wake me. He did.” He juts his chin over at Lando, who still has a hand around your elbow. You can’t help but let your eyes drop down to it, and Lando does too, inhaling sharply before letting go. Still, the warmth from his grip lingers. “And not very nicely might I add.”

“I had to get you up quick!”

“You nearly took my head off with a pillow, you dickhead!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want a kiss on the forehead?” Lando snorts.

“Not from you!”

“Come off it already, won’t you?” Lando turns his attention back to you instead, rolling his eyes playfully when he finds you stifling a giggle behind your palm. “You said you had your car?”

“Um, yeah, it’s around the corner. We can just leave it here, I’ll circle back and pick it up in the morning.”

Lando clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “It’ll probably be stripped for parts by tomorrow. How bout we split up? Two and two?”

“Well, we all know who you want,” Max says knowingly. It makes your cheeks flame hot and Lando’s flush pink, but Max doesn’t waver in his shit eating grin. For some reason, you find his candid bluntness refreshing, even if it is poking fun at what’s going on (or not going on) between Lando and yourself. “You guys take Maren in your car, I’ll take these two and meet you at your house.”

Max manages to coax Camille and Samira to their feet with little trouble, and before you know it they’re off, leaving you alone with Lando and a very sleepy Maren. He rocks back on his heels, biting the inside of his cheek awkwardly, like he’s not sure what to do.

“Should we—”

“I think—” Lando bites back a laugh, gesturing for you to speak first.

“We should probably get going.”

“Right. Let’s get her in the car then, yeah?”

You couldn’t be less well versed in cars if you tried, but even you know the one Lando came to your rescue in is expensive. You’re almost too reluctant to even sit in it. But then Lando’s hand touches softly against the small of your back as he pulls open the door without hesitation, and you have no choice but to help Maren in.

Not like you had much of a choice anyways, what with him being the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress call.

“Did you have fun? Before having to play mum to the girls, I mean.” Lando asks a little while later, not taking his eyes off the road.

You blow out a deep breath, sinking back into the plush leather of the passenger seat. The soft smoothness is heaven on your skin. “Kinda. The first few drinks, at least. Felt a little out of place, honestly.”

“What, you didn't charm some guy the same way you charmed me?” Silence fills the car like cement as soon as the words leave his mouth. A pang of something sharp shoots through you, something akin to hurt that flashes through your chest but is gone a second later.

No, you shouldn’t feel hurt. You’re the one who hurt him. Even though he’s told you over and over that it’s okay, it’s fine, he understands your decision, Lando has every right to express his true feelings, no matter how it makes you feel.

“Sorry, that was—that came out wrong. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” You say quietly. He wants to know if you met someone else, and the answer is no. No, you didn't meet another guy, because all you could think about was him. But you’re just friends. You’d made certain of it. So why did you feel like you’d done something wrong? “I didn’t meet anyone else.”

“Oh. Cool.”

“Is it?”

A muscle in his jaw clenches as he swallows thickly, nodding. “Yeah. I mean, if that’s what you want. What you’re looking for.”

“I don’t think I’m looking for anything right now,” Your voice is soft, nearly a whisper.

I’m not looking for something that isn’t you, you could add. You don’t. It wouldn’t do anything other than hurt him, and yourself, even more.

The rest of the ride home is basically silent, and Max is waiting on the sofa with the other two when you finally get there, entertaining a story that Camille is telling not unlike one would with a child, uh huh-ing and wow, that’s so cool-ing until he realizes you’re finally here.

You take over from then, thank him profusely yet again when he says he’s going to head home, before corralling all three girls into the bathroom like a zookeeper with their animals.

One by one, you help each of your friends through an abridged version of their night routines until they’re all ready for bed, and then you tuck them into the same bed as best you can. You’ve relegated yourself to the floor with a littering of pillows for the night. It’ll be easier to get to them if they need anything during the night if you’re all in the same room.

You’re surprised to see Lando in the doorway once you’ve gotten them all settled in for the night. You thought he'd left with Max, but apparently not.

He glances up as he hears you approach, frowning. “You’re gonna sleep on the floor?”

You shrug. “Yeah, it’s fine. I can keep an eye on them that way. You can, erm, you can go home now. Go back to sleep.”

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure they’ll sleep through the night. Plus, you must be knackered too. You should get some rest, yeah?” You want to say no, but your body’s response betrays you in that moment, because you yawn big, and it makes him chuckle. “Come on. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll watch over them.”

“No way.” You shake your head insistently, despite the enticing offer. “You’ve already done more than enough, Lando, I can’t ask you to stay up all night. I’ve got them covered.”

“You shouldn’t either.” He shoots back, chin tilting up in challenge. You match him as best you can with your eyes growing heavier and heavier by the moment, and eventually, he backs down, hands up in mock surrender. “How ‘bout we take shifts? The living room’s right across the hall, if we camp out there and anyone makes a racket, whoever’s up will be able to hear them.”

You twist your lips to the side in thought. “Deal. I call first watch though.”

“I can live with that. Why don’t you go freshen up, or something?”

“Is that your way of telling me I stink?”

Lando’s eyes glint with mirth, teasing smile curling his lips. “Maybe.”

“Well, maybe you don’t smell too good either!” That’s a total lie. He actually smells really nice, a mixture of remnants of his heady cologne from the day and something fresher, a little citrusy. His soap, maybe?

A hot shower certainly does wonders to sober you up the rest of the way, and as you’re toweling your hair dry enough to where it won’t be dripping water down your shirt, you take a good look at yourself in the fogged up mirror.

This is fine. You can spend a night alone with Lando without feeling anything towards him. You can do this. You’ve done harder things than this.

Lando’s frowning at something on his phone when you make your way back into the living room, scowling like whatever’s on the screen has personally wronged him. It isn’t the first time you've noticed his demeanor turn sour like this, and your concern is piqued each time.

You clear your throat as if to announce your presence, offering him a small smile when his head whips up. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just work.” He tosses his phone on the coffee table, dragging a hand forward through his curls, mussing up the front before raking them back. It doesn’t seem to do anything but make them messier, but you suspect it’s more of a nervous habit than anything.

He smiles back at you as you sit a respectable distance away from him on the sofa, though even that looks entirely forced. Something is wrong, and it’s eating away at him.

“Look, I know things aren't how they used to be with us, but I hope you know I’m still here for you. You can always talk to me if you need to.”

Lando gnaws on his bottom lip, head tilting from side to side like he's unsure. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Friends are there for each other.”

He blows out a deep sigh, sinking back against the pillows like a deflated balloon. “Yeah? You’re sure?”

“I’m a good listener, remember?” You nudge his knee with yours gently. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m all ears.”

He isn’t ready right away. For a little while, you sit in silence. You get the feeling Lando doesn’t have much experience with letting people in very easily, but it's okay. You’ll sit here as long as he needs to get his thoughts together.

Finally he speaks, but even then, his tone holds hesitance.

“I feel like everything is going to shit. The car is great this season, it’s better than it's ever been before, so that’s not the problem. It’s me, I’m the problem, I keep fucking everything up," He sighs, shoulders slumping. "And my team work so hard for me to be able to perform and deliver and I feel like I’m just letting everyone down, y’know? They deserve someone who can give them better than the shit stuff I’ve been putting out these past few races.”

Lando as a person is impossibly hard on himself, you’ve come to learn—always thinks he could’ve done better, even if what he’s already done is enough. The same is true when it comes to his job.

You’d know—you checked. In your uninformed opinion, the results he’s been achieving in the races are great. To be finishing high in the top five out of twenty of the best drivers in the world in almost every single race recently, it’s enough to make anyone proud.

But when you think about it from a competition perspective, a cutthroat drive with everything you’ve got, put everything on the line perspective, you get a sense of why he’s beating himself up.

To know he can win and still fall short, race after race…god, you can’t even imagine how he must be feeling.

You might be clueless still, but at the very basis of it all, you understand. Lando has worked so hard for so many years, put in blood, sweat, and tears, and he feels like he’s not living up to expectations.

You know what it’s like to have such high expectations placed on your shoulders and nearly be crushed by the weight of everyone counting on you. Surely not on a scale as large as his, but you understand the struggle.

Then he goes into the race in Hungary a few weeks back, and you can tell there’s some lingering hurt in him about what happened.

“It’s like they were guilt tripping me or something. Telling me I’ll need the team in the championship fight, that I should do the right thing and give up my position. Call me crazy, but that just didn’t sit right with me at all. They want me to be a team player and that’s fine, I’m happy to, but I dunno…” Lando trails off, nose wrinkling like the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

You notice him picking at the skin below his nail and move without thinking, closing the distance between the two of you and redirecting his fiddling fingers by linking them with your own.

It gets him to stop picking, but it also makes him stop talking. Whatever words are about to come out of his mouth die into a drawn out exhale, eyes drawn to your joined hands like a magnet.

“Yeah? Keep going, I’m still listening,” You urge gently, nodding. Lando blinks at you, as if he’s lost his train of thought. “Hungary? The team?”

“Uh…yeah. Right. I was—I guess I just didn’t think they’d pull all that crap over the radio. Like, everyone could hear what they were saying—other teams, the commentators. It was on live broadcast too!” His fingers tighten around yours ever so slightly, dark brows knit with frustration.

Even though you know close to nothing about the sport, what his team pulled seems like a dick move. You understand wanting to put their drivers in the best position possible, but airing things out on a radio where everyone can hear it feels wrong to you. Then again, you have no idea what goes on within a team at this type of performance level.

“It’s like, they knew I’d do what they wanted me to do and I did, but for a moment, I almost didn’t. I almost went against team orders, and that’s…” He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head. “You don’t do that. You can’t. You listen to what your team says and you do it, and that’s the end. My boss has been calling every now and then, trying to get me to talk and shit, and I just don’t really wanna talk about work right now. I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Oh, Lando…” You sigh. Your thumb rubs circles over the prominent ridges of his knuckles, hoping it brings him some sort of comfort.

“I know I probably sound like such a brat right now, but I’ve given everything I have to McLaren and it still doesn't feel like enough. They want more, and right now…I’m not sure how much more I’ve got in me.”

“Can I be completely and totally honest with you right now?”

“Yeah, please.”

You hesitate, taking a beat to reply. You don’t want him to take your response the wrong way. “I’m not gonna sit and pretend like I have any clue what it’s like to be in your situation, because I don’t. But I do think you’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah, sometimes you might not get the results you’d hoped for, but you’re doing the best you can, and that’s all you need to be doing.”

Lando doesn’t need your advice, and you’re in no place to be giving any in the first place. He just needs someone in his corner, someone who cares about him to tell him that it’s okay to not be perfect. You want to be that person, even though you’re both still trying to settle into this new dynamic with each other.

Thankfully, your words seem to soak in, easing the tension in his shoulders just a little bit. “Thank you. I think I really needed that.”

“Glad I could help,” You say warmly, squeezing his hand.

“Y’know, I just realized that I’ve never said any of that out loud to anyone.”

“Do you feel better?”

Lando chuckles, and somehow, he even seems better. Like whatever was weighing him down was gone. “Yeah, I do. I feel…lighter, actually? Is that weird?”

“Not at all. That’s what letting things out will do for you.”

“Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that, maybe it’s…you.”

Your breath hitches in your chest. “Me?”

“You make me feel like I can be myself around you. Like, the real me, not the me the rest of the world knows me as. I feel genuinely happy around you, and I—I can’t just sit here and ignore it any longer. I still really like you. And I know what you said about us, and I know why, but I can’t help the way I feel around you. The way I feel about you.”

“Lando, I—”

“I swear I’m not trying to change your mind or make you feel guilty, or anything like that! I just had to say it before it made me explode,” He adds, exhaling shakily. “In the spirit of letting things out.”

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been starting to question whether or not you’d made the right choice by deciding to walk away from Lando, because the more you get to know him, the more it chips away at your resolve. He’s kind and sweet and funny, and he gets you like nobody else has before. It’s been hell these past few days, tiptoeing around each other when all you want to do is kiss him senseless.

Right now, you want to kiss him senseless. He’s right here in front of you, holding your hand, looking at you with those stupid sparkly eyes. You want to say it’s the leftover alcohol buzzing in your veins making you feel this way, but that would be a lie too.

Fuck it.

You cross the already dwindling space between the two of you, sliding a hand around the back of his neck, and kissing him softly. Lando freezes for a split second, but before you know it, he’s kissing you back, guiding you closer until you’re nearly on his lap. His hands roam your back, curling into the material of your shirt, thumbing under it just a tiny bit to stroke at the warm skin there.

It isn’t at all like the first time you kissed. He lets you set the tone, following your slow lead without question.

You’re not sure how long you keep at it—lazy, gentle kisses punctuated with hushed giggles and tiny satisfied noises from the both of you.

Lando takes a pause every so often, pulling back just enough to look at you, take in the sight of you breathless from his doing, and every time, his mouth curls into a squinty, close mouthed smile. You can only bear the fondness in his expression for a few seconds before growing too aware of the way he looks at you and kissing him again.

Your brain doesn’t want to stop, but apparently your body decides you’ve had enough action for a day, because at some point you feel your eyes start to droop, chin following.

As if sensing your exhaustion, Lando pulls away, chest rising and falling heavily. He’s breathless, lips kiss-swollen as they curve into a soft smile. “We should stop. You need to get some sleep.”

“No! We should talk about this. Us.”

“I agree, but I don’t think you’re really in the right headspace to do it right now.”

“I’m fine! I’m okay, I swear.”

“You just nearly fell asleep whilst we were making out.”

“For a second!” You whine, letting your head thunk against his chest. A chuckle vibrates through him. “Don’t laugh at me, I’m tired.”

“Then go to sleep. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” He insists, lips pressed to the crown of your head. You sigh through your nose. You’d argue a little more, but Lando is right again. All you want to do is go to sleep. “I’m not going anywhere, alright? I’ll be here when you wake up, we can figure it out then.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

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