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cherryblossombankai · 1 day ago

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Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: You and Toshinori are matched on a site for "companionship" that touts being able to choose the perfect sugar baby for the client.

Warnings: virginity loss, premature ejaculation, oral sex, creampie, obsession, sex work, sugar baby/sugar daddy dynamics

A/N: Made for a little fic swap between myself and @actuallysaiyan! I hope you love it!

Tag List: @pixelcafe-network, @actuallysaiyan, @helloiamadrawer, @satorustar, @sweet-chocolate-sweet,

Toshinori has never had time for romance. For so long he stayed so busy with hero work he didn’t even notice the empty spot in his life. How can you notice that you don’t have anyone to hold at night when you don’t bother going home until your body is nearly useless from exhaustion? You can’t notice how nobody celebrates your birthday with you if you spend all day working instead. He doesn’t notice it until the empty spot has become a great black hole, and then he spends night after night tossing and turning in bed with empty arms.

He knows it's his fault. He never made room in his life for anything else besides fighting villains and being a symbol of peace. It feels like the time for flowers and romance has passed him by. Even if he wanted to try to find someone, who would want him: a broken-down hero who has never even been intimate with anyone aside from one late-night makeout session with Dave that took place (what feels like) a lifetime ago?

The first time he saw the ad, he was watching porn. His cock was in his hand, ready for action. Instead of focusing on the pretty girl sucking a cock, his eyes instantly find an elegantly designed ad that looks quite out of place among the lewd positions that accompanied the rest.

‘Are you lonely?’ the ad says in its pristine script. Then a smaller font says, ‘We can match you with the perfect companion?’

“Of course I’m lonely,” he rolls his eyes and tries to just ignore the ad. He watches the pretty girl on her knees, trying to imagine he’s the one grabbing her hair and thrusting into her mouth.

As soon as he cums, thick strings that cover his fist, he thinks about that damn ad again. He tosses his phone to the side and goes to clean himself up. However, when he picks the phone up again the ad is still there. This time he can’t help letting curiosity get the better of him. He clicks the ad and is taken to a surprisingly well-designed website. The information he scrolls through explains that the company would require him to take a few different types of personality quizzes and evaluations all to match him with his ‘perfect companion’.

The fine print, of course, is that his perfect companion will only accompany him for a fee, a percentage of which goes to the matchmaker. That’s the part that causes him to click off the ad and try to put it completely out of his mind. It would be an absolute scandal if it was ever found out that All Might had paid someone for companionship, and maybe even more if—

No. He can’t let himself picture it.

Over the next few days, he tries quite valiantly to forget about the whole idea. Still, he can’t completely put it out of his mind no matter how hard he tries. It would solve many problems for him if he was brave enough to go through with it. He wouldn’t have to worry about going through the whole dating ordeal to find someone, the company would take care of that.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ he tries over and over to dissuade himself.

A week passed before he signed up. He did it so fast that he didn’t even have time to stop himself. There was no time to second guess. He needed someone badly, and this was the one time he would throw some money at a problem in hopes of fixing it.

It took a couple more days for the company to respond. It came as an email with the attached profiles of three potential partners for him that he could choose from. There was a file that highlighted the complementary qualities as well as points of interest for Toshinori to keep in mind.

The moment he saw your photos, he felt his heart race with excitement. You are beyond pretty— you’re a goddess as far as he’s concerned. You included some racy boudoir shots in your photo album, and he couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in response. He imagined himself in that dim lighting with you, slowly peeling off that nearly sheer robe to reveal the lace bustier underneath.

He chooses you without even looking at the third profile.

***

Your first meeting with Toshinori has to go perfectly. Although you’re nervous as can be, you want this to go well. As soon as the two of you started texting, you felt a connection. He was genuine and easy to talk to. You had a lot in common, including a love for indie movies. However, what sticks out to you the most is how kind he is. Most men would’ve already been asking for nudes or videos, but Toshinori hasn’t even initiated a sexting session. The few times he sent you anything flirty, you were sure it was an accident. He’s gentle, and you like that about him.

When you walk into the coffee shop for the first time, he’s stunned by the sight of you. For a moment you linger by the door, pretty eyes carefully scanning the room for him. He watches the sweet smile rise to your lips, you’re so excited you even bounce a little bit before coming to the table. He stands up and pulls your chair out for you.

“I’m glad you made it,” he says shyly, he can barely even look at you right now. If he thought you were a goddess just from the photos, he’s convinced of it now that he’s seen you in person. The photos didn’t do you justice.

Instead of taking a seat right away, you hug him first. You give him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down, “Me too! I’ve been so excited to meet you!”

Years of hero work have made Toshinori aware of when people are lying to him, and he’s shocked to find that you’re genuine in the sentiment. He wonders if you also feel as overwhelmingly nervous as he does.

“It’s a good thing we’re both here, then,” he chuckles softly as he takes a seat across from you. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

He spends a few moments just staring at you longingly. He can’t believe how beautiful you are, and that such a beautiful girl is so happy to be with him.

“I’m gonna go order some coffee,” you say sweetly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Wait, allow me!” he says as he stands up. “I’ll get it.”

“Oh, okay!” you tell him your order, and he makes his way up to the front.

You feel so happy right now. He’s just as adorable and kind as you expected him to be. You can’t wait to see how things go with him. Maybe this time, you finally found a man who wants to take care of you and who will still treat you kindly. The first sugar daddy you found was rude and cruel to you. Toshinori seems different. You almost feel like you’d be happy to be with him even without the prospect of money, but unfortunately, tuition and rent won’t pay themselves. Still, there’s no law saying you can’t have true feelings for him.

When he returns, he sets your coffee down in front of you. To your surprise, he also sets down a small white box with an assortment of pastries inside.

“I thought we might like snacks while we talk,” he says bashfully.

“That’s lovely, Toshinori! Thank you,” you smile at him.

He feels his cheeks burning at your praise. He’s really done it, he’s made you happy. For the briefest of moments all is right in the world.

***

Pleasing you becomes his favorite pastime. Whether he’s taking you out shopping or he has your legs spread while he eagerly eats you out, there’s nothing he loves more than taking care of you. He becomes obsessed with you in his own way. He leases you an apartment close to his, and that only lasts a few months before he’s asking you to move in with him. You drop the company altogether when he makes a fuss about you having to give a percentage of your ‘allowance’ to them.

“I want it all to go to you, babygirl,” he had said on the night he brought up the idea. Secretly, he also wanted to make sure he kept you.

It’s a dream come true for you. The live-in sugar baby to a man who adores you with his whole being and treats you like you walk on water is not a bad gig. Except you feel guilty at times. He gives you so much, and yet he never really asks for anything in return. You’ve offered him things, but he’s so shy he can’t imagine going through with anything. He’s never even mentioned sex.

You have to take matters into your own hands.

One night after dinner, you guide him to the bedroom. You have him sit on the bed and wait for you.

“I have a little surprise, daddy,” you explain with a playful wink before disappearing into the large, walk-in closet.

Once you close the door, you begin changing into a silk and lace nightgown. When you emerge again, Toshinori’s eyes widen.

“Oh…y-you look beautiful!” he says as he stands up to come to you. His hands are gentle on your hips.

“You like it, daddy?”

“I love it,” he leans down to kiss you. “You look like an angel.”

When he starts guiding you towards the bed, you know what he wants to do. However, you don’t want him spoiling you tonight. You want to take care of him, this time completely.

“Don’t, baby,” you kiss him again, then lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’re holding his gaze as you reach for his belt. “Let me take care of you, daddy. Please?”

“Babygirl, I don’t want to…Disappoint you.”

“Why would I be disappointed? I love everything about you, Toshinori. Absolutely everything.”

His cheeks turn pink as he looks down at you. He runs his fingers through your hair gently. “Alright, alright. Show me what you can do, sweetheart.”

You’d intended to do just that. You wanted to rock his world, to show him all the things he seems to have missed out on. There were quite a few tricks up your sleeve you wanted to pull out, but you didn’t get the chance. When your hand wraps around his throbbing cock it only takes a trio of gentle strokes before thick strings of cum are covering your face.

“Oh!” you pull away just from the surprise of it.

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Toshinori’s big cock is still halfhard as he tries to force it back into his boxers. He had expected to be able to last longer, after all he jerks off regularly, but there was something different about having you touch him that made him lose control. He begins gently wiping the cum off your face with his shirt.

“It’s okay, it happens,” you say half-heartedly.

“No, fuck, no it doesn’t,” he sighs. He sits back down on the bed, his face in his hands to avoid looking at you.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you assure him again. You sit between his knees, massaging his thighs gently. “Look at me, Toshinori,” you coax his hands from his face.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he caresses your cheek. “You know I don’t expect you to lie to me just because you think its what I want to hear.”

“I’m not lying, daddy,” you kiss his hands gently. His half-hard cock stiffens a little more in response. You suck on his fingers. Then you reach out to free him from his pants again. You kiss and suck on the tip of his cock gently, and he stiffens fully in your hand. “Perfect, daddy. That’s good.”

“Fuck, baby…” he shakes his head, surprised but also pleased by your tenacity.

You manage to take him deep down your throat. He is trembling as he tries to hold himself back from cumming again. The pleasure is unlike anything he’s ever known before. His hands tangle in your hair, ready to pull you off of him in an instant if he thinks he’s gonna make an ass of himself again.

You pull off his cock gently, giving it one more kiss before looking up at him. You stand up and strip off your nightgown, leaving it in a wilting pile at your feet. His eyes are drinking in every inch of your body. He reaches out to touch you, starting at your waist and moving down the curve of your hips.

“I want you inside of me, Toshinori. I’ve wanted it for a long time,” you whisper softly as you carefully settle on his lap, straddling him. You caress his cheeks gently and run your fingers through his hair.

“Baby, are you sure?” he kneads gently as your waist, just underneath your tits. He never wants to make you feel like you owe him anything. He wants you to do this because you want him as much as he’s craved you.

“I’m more than sure,” you kiss him softly, then a little deeper.

His tongue is soft and warm against yours. You reach down to guide his cock to your entrance. He feels like a teenage boy, shaking with excitement. His head lulls against your shoulder as you sink down his length, letting out a soft moan as your pussy stretches around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re huge,” you pant softly.

He grunts, “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?” you giggle softly. You kiss him deeply and continue rocking your hips.

You don’t quite get to pick up a good pace before you feel him tense up. His fingers dig into your hips as he floods your pussy with his cum. You slow to a stop. He rolls you onto your back, and begins thrusting sloppily.

“I can keep going,” he growls softly.

He buries his face against the curve of your neck as he fucks you. He’s sloppy, but oh so eager. You wrap your legs around his waist and your hands are tangled in his hair. Every so often you give it a firm tug just to make him growl against your neck. With every thrust, his cock hits your sweet spot.

It’s perfect. Everything you had imagined in the last few months failed to live up to the reality of the man you adore making love to you. He reaches down to rub your clit to pull out even more pleasure from you. When you reach your climax, he treasures the way his name sounds being cried from your lips with so much adoration. It means everything to him.

“Yes, yes, yes,” he pants, punctuating every cry with another thrust. He cums inside of you one final time, clinging to you like you could disappear if he loosened his grip.

When you both come down from your orgasms, he pulls out of you gently. He lays beside you, pulling you to his chest and playing with your hair.

“You were worth the wait,” you giggle softly.

“I’m glad, baby.”

He kisses your forehead gently, then he peels himself away from you. He pulls his pants back up, then goes to the bathroom. A few moments later, you hear the water running for a bath. Toshinori prepares to continue spoiling you.

#🌸.writes #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #toshinori x reader #toshinori x you #toshinori yagi x you #toshinori yagi #all might

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dorkicon · 1 year ago

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bitching abt my job again

tags contain frank mentions of transphobia and homophobia

#this happened like. i dont know. a month ago or something but i still keep playing it in my mind #for those unawares: theres been a fucking community outrage over the pride display at the library i work at #and have been working/volunteering at for 5 years #only it never went up. it never went up. bc the mayor came in as a quote unquote private citizen and demanded it taken down #despite the fact that patrons are required to fill out complaint sheets and even then it isnt ensured a display will be taken down #so obviously its a misuse of power that hes spinning into him being a concerned citizen #and i made a whole post bitching abt it and im doing so again (hi) bc i didnt like how our director responded to it #and yeah. so there was a board meeting after that right. well i set up for them as i usually do and let me tell you. that was the first #--time more than like 6 people came to spectate. it was insane.#and i guarantee that this months meeting wont have half as many people that fucking crammed themselves in there to complain abt gay ppl #bc of course they dont give a shit about the library #they just care about how scary the queers are #and yeah it was a shit show. i learned we have a far right organization in our town #and i was sat right in front of her husband the whole time #(standing actually. i was standing between him and my moms chair and he was sighing and grumbling the whole time bc he couldnt muster the #--balls to ask the 5 foot 2 fag in front of him to please move lol. small victories right)#when i say her i mean the leader of the freaks. idk. chairman? anyway she had a whole speech about how like queers are bad and cutting #the penises off little babies or whatever and she pulled up this passage from a book that was part of the display #its some book by the youtuber rowan ellis-- here and queer i think was the title. it was cataloged in our ya section and contained passages #talking about like having safe sex and what dildoes are and all that kind of shit. just really clinical descriptions imo. im not familiar w #--the youtuber really but im assuming they wrote it as informational bc shocker: teens be having sex. unsafe sex. especially queer teens #sourse: i was one of tgose #and...think for a moment. remember when you were a teen. youd rather fucking DIE than listen to your parents give you the sex talk #and chances are if youre gay your parents arent even going to know WHAT gay sex is (hugging without shirts on) so youre going to look #--elsewhere #bc if youre a hormonal fucking teen youre going to figure it out one way or another! especially if youre from (cough) a podunk shitwater #--town like mine that ran on abstinence by way of sex education #i think teens deserve to have access to that sort of information through trusted means. and i do mean het teens too #but no these fucking morons put on airs like everyones waiting till marriage--no! not my becky sue! as if they werent fucking around in #--holy shit i reached taglimit. i didnt ecen know there was one. hold on

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strwbrymlkshake · 2 years ago

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I don't think I've ever been in a relationship this healthy before I don't know what to do 💀

#mine #🎸#DUDE my feelings are so weird like i cant even describe them cause theyre all over the place. im hoping someone sees this and sends me an #ask or something with advice if this is even gonna make sense. because i am so confused lmfao #First of all im always expecting something to go wrong so i feel like it might be the absence of Problems thats throwing me off #But he reassures me all the time and genuinely cares about me? in regards to my last post we talked about it and he comforted me #i feel like im kind of in an emotional limbo where im still processing everything. my yan moments make appearances more than my dere #i feel so cringe saying that as a native english speaker. well im here to express my feelings not to be judged <3 #but i definitely FEEL the jealousy more. like i exhibit both equally but im more emotional in a bad way than a good way #but its not cause of anything hes doing at all! hes perfect?! i dont know how to handle it!! i only know how to be jealous #at least if im mean im not as likely to get hurt and thats why im afraid to feel lovey things as much??? im making myself sound like #a bastard but ive just been feeling more anxiety and getting worried about Relationship Stuff and that kills the vibes #but he doesnt even mind he doesnt treat my problems like a burden. he isnt sick of them he doesnt abandon me. he loves me and i am still so #bewildered? like. hes the nicest guy ive ever dated. ill gush about new people i meet but they do have flaws. i just dont acknowledge them #because im so blinded by idolization. but for this one ive thought everything out i have PONDERED for so long and he really is just such a #good person. how? WHY?? he has not done anything wrong and its just my mental illness that causes ALL the problems. but he wants to #BE there and comfort me. what the fuck my brain is like short circuiting. people this nice exist? he doesnt want to use me??#and ofc this is all in the romantic sense. i still have friends that i value very much but this post is focused on romance #watch me say all this then he does something horrible. <-SEE IM SO NEGATIVE i expect things to go wrong #my main problem is im confused about my feelings they feel very tangled and muddled. im happy of course but i feel like the part of me that #feels romantic happiness/genuine satisfaction is all fucked up and broken. but he doesnt mind that im this way 🥲 WHY #HE ASSURES ME EVERYTHINGS OKAY he is there for me he cares about me but i cant wrap my head around it! im. this is so weird #one of my goals is to be less focused on being insane and actually get things done. w all my relationships i have a time blur thing #where i feel like time passes differently even more than it does for me. im just thinking so much bruh #right i think i was gonna go about getting adderall because of the everything all the time. im feeling numb but also #literally every emotion all at once. and it consumes me and my waking thoughts. i guess it was easier to ignore before?

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nereidprinc3ss · 6 months ago

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drunk in love

in which fem!reader gets extra affectionate with spencer when she's drunk and he's just happy to be there

fluff! warnings/tags: drunk!reader, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff, spencer loves you so bad, short n sweet, that's it a/n: this is for the person who requested spencer taking care of drunk!reader and they're just being really cute and kissy and i lost your request i'm sorry but i hope you see this!! if you guys like this pls let me know, i have spencer helping drunk!r with a bath locked and loaded and its also so cute oh my god i love him goodnight

“Spence,” you say, voice pretty and airy as a song, pressing butterfly-light kisses with soft lips all over the side of his face.

“What?” he asks fondly, fighting to keep his grip on you secure as you keep trying to fall down and bring him with you. This bar isn’t necessarily a dive, but he’s sure the floor is still sticky and he’s not interested in checking.

“I really love you so much. I love you so much more than anyone else has ever loved anyone before.” It’s the fourth or fifth time you’ve told him you love him so much in ten minutes, but it doesn’t feel any less wonderful to hear. “Say it back!” you pout, settling against his chest.

“You didn’t give me time to say it back,” he explains patiently, looking down at you and brushing hair behind your ear. “I love you so much, too, baby.”

Suddenly you’re too flustered and shy to make eye contact.

“Call me that again.”

Spencer’s brow furrows. His smile flickers wider.

“What? Baby?” You nod into his chest. He smooths your hair. “I call you baby all the time.”

“Because you love me?”

“Because I love you,” he agrees solemnly.

You squeak, covering your face with your hands. Not for the first time tonight, he wonders what exactly was in those drinks Penelope kept ordering for you.

“Kiss?”

He gently grabs your wrists.

“You have to show me that pretty face if you want a kiss.”

Your hands slide down your cheeks and you tilt your head up. Now that your face is on display, pretty and shiny in the low lighting, Spencer ducks down and kisses you sweetly, one hand on the back of your head, the other pulling your wrists down and out of the way. He makes sure to not let it go on for too long. There are still plenty of people around, but more saliently, you are quite drunk.

“Good?” he asks, brushing a thumb over your cheek as he pulls away.

“Can we kiss forever?”

“We can try,” he muses.

“I love you,” you say again, plainly. “I wish there was a word stronger than love. I feel like I’ve said love so much it’s lost all its meaning.”

“Keep saying it,” he encourages. “I like hearing it.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper. Spencer leans down for you to cup your hand to his ear clandestinely. Sweet vanilla perfume still clings to your warm skin, lingering on your neck, mixing with the smell of fruity cocktails on your breath and making him dizzy. “I think JJ has a crush on you.”

He chuckles, straightening. Grieving the loss of your scent for just a second in the back of his mind—until you’re pressing against him anxiously, and it returns.

“JJ is married, babe. I don’t think so.”

You pout.

“No, but I really think she does! It makes me sad!”

Spencer doesn’t believe it for a second, but he knows hard logic and persuasion aren’t really going to do much for you right now. So he loops an arm around your waist and reigns you in.

“You don’t need to be sad, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter who has a crush on me because I have a crush on you.”

“Just me?” you ask anxiously.

“Just you. You’re the prettiest girl in the world. I have a huge crush on you.”

He realizes his voice has taken on that saccharine quality that Derek would give him shit for, and it’s probably visible in his eyes as he leans close to you, but he doesn’t care at all.

You raise your chin, wordlessly asking for another kiss. He delivers. The fabric of his shirt tugs where you grab onto it, attempting to bring him closer even when he draws away from the kiss. Of course he allows it, narrowly avoiding stepping on your toes as you pull him to you like a dog on a leash.

“Can we go home? I wanna cuddle.”

Oh, yeah. If Derek were present he’d have the most ridiculous, shit-eating grin on his face right now. Luckily he’s not here right now, and even if he were, Spencer would still brush your hair aside and say, absolutely we can go home and cuddle.

“Of course we can. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?”

“Mm… can we Irish goodbye?”

He chuckles.

“I think you should say thank you to Penelope for buying you all of those ridiculous drinks that are making you so nice.”

You make a face.

“I’m always nice.”

“You’re not always this nice,” he reminds you with a small smile, resting his hands on your waist. You frown.

“In my head I am.”

He kisses your head. It’s impossible not to.

“I know. Come on, let’s say bye. I want to go home too.”

“You think I’m not usually nice?”

“Of course I don’t think that. I think you’re so nice.”

“Oh my god, can we get ice cream?” You gasp, already distracted and pulling him along by the hand as you weave through the sparse crowd.

He smiles to himself, happy to follow your lead as long as you don’t let go.

“We can definitely get ice cream. We can do whatever you want.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine

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lunarflare64 · 1 year ago

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I feel like I'm someone new rn, which is super confusing because I don't know what to do with myself, I don't feel like reading or writing or drawing, nothing calls to me on youtube, I don't wanna play games or knit or crochet or loom weave, baking is an iffy maybe but even if it was a yes we don't have any baking ingredients, out of sheer boredom and restlessness I made a nest in the storage room, so we're in that now and its managed some restlessness (who knows how long that'll last), but I'm still bored, I think its been me that's been defaulting to BTD5 on our phone over the past few days since our progress was wiped for some reason, but I never actually really wanted to play it, it was just something to do

Even though we've been through this hundreds of times now, this is our first time doing it while knowing we're plural, and it feels really different. Before, this blank period after a time of a lot of stress felt straight up like depression, but now that we know there's an incredibly bored newbie steering? Its so, so much easier, like, we still don't know what to do, I'm still bored, but this time we know I shouldn't be just sitting and waiting for interest in something to come to us, I gotta actually think about it, and try things, and eventually we'll either switch or I'll find something I enjoy doing

#this 'post-stress depression' thing makes a lot more sense now that we know its a new person who hasnt found their 'thing' yet #of COURSE we'd get depressed - the newbie hasnt found anything to enrich their life yet!#i dont mind being the one we figure this out through #the surgery was hard on us but the stress of it is basically gone now and i feel pretty chill #i dont know which stress-split made which headmate or if theyre even still around #but none of them would have been in the mood to be a test subject #overall we're pretty lucky im the one who formed from the surgery!#i want pizza #(food seems to be all i care about akhdkd fitting considering our eating fell apart post-surgery)#anyway pizza #didnt we just eat #that was like two hours ago man - lets go its food time

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prael · 21 days ago

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The Hardest Question Ever ASSked

Le Sserafim Chaewon, Kazuha and Yunjin x male reader smut

Is this the worst writing I've ever produced? Yep. Do I care? No. At least I warned you.

Masterlist word count: 5,851 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"So, which one of these two do you think has the best ass?"

Yunjin has this penchant for asking the most inappropriate questions at the most random of times. The conversation was in a whole different place; Chaewon was explaining why the second Harry Potter film is by far the best one when suddenly...

"Oh my god," Kazuha immediately covers her eyes, sinking her head into her hands.

"What?" Yunjin blinks with innocence.

Chaewon can only groan in response. She sometimes wonders what goes on inside the minds of her group members, especially after that time Yunjin casually asked to compare their favourite toys (and now she is struggling to get the mental image of Yunjin slipping in a butt plug each morning out of her head. Apparently she has a whole range of sizes) but still, it feels like their constant effort to test how far they can go with each other has no end in sight.

"We all have pretty nice butts," Chaewon adds, the need to fill the awkward silence quickly becoming dire.

"Boring answer," Yunjin turns up her nose and pouts. Then her eyes fall on you. "Come on, you spend more than enough time staring, which is it?" she teases.

And look, you have thoughts, of course you do, but you're too coy to spill them out into the open for these three to scrutinize. So you joke, "We all know it's me." Only Kazuha laughs—that girl laughs at your every word.

Yunjin narrows her eyes, her attention like a hungry lion's before its prey. She asks in a challenging tone, "Why are you avoiding the question?"

You have learned very quickly that a game you can never win is against Yunjin, that woman is relentless with her prodding, so you change strategies. "What does it matter who has the nicest ass? Asses are so subjective."

"Stop being so political."

Chaewon senses blood in the water and joins in on pushing you for an answer, "Okay, so, subjectively, which one do you like the most?"

You slump back into your chair as the three girls sit forward expectantly. Yunjin is directly across from you, wrapping her lips around the straw for her coffee as she stares through you, practically daring you to bullshit her with a non-answer. Chaewon is wide-eyed on your right, and Kazuha still has her hand nervously over her mouth.

You have an answer, you know which one you like the most. But you also know that as soon as you say it, the other might kill you.

So, you pick the one that will give the best reaction. See, Chaewon is competitive, right down to the bone. Meaning that when you answer, "Kazuha," she looks about ready to burst a blood vessel.

"What!" she spits, the other two girls bursting into laughter. "I'm the one with the best ass!"

Kazuha has this whole smug look going on, it's not one she uses often, but to tease Chaewon? You don't blame her.

"Oh yeah, you think that's funny? I'll show you whose ass is the best," Chaewon threatens.

"It must be all the squats," Yunjin chimes in.

"Shut up," Chaewon growls at her.

Kazuha leans back in her chair and shrugs, "No need to be jealous. Yours is great too, Chaewon. You work really hard, and it shows."

"Don't try to suck up now, Kazuha."

You watch the whole exchange in silence. This is what happens almost every time Yunjin calls you over to have lunch, and it is always an entertaining time.

"Alright, so what about thighs? Which ones are the best?" Yunjin continues.

"Kazuha," you answer, and Kazuha is practically glowing, "I mean, have you seen how toned her thighs are?"

You turn to Chaewon, a smirk on your face so evil, "Sorry, Chae."

"Alright! That's it!" Chaewon shouts, jumping up from her chair, her eyes burning with determination. Her hands are at the waist of her jeans, popping open the button. "If you won't admit mine are the best, I'll have to prove it to you."

Yunjin sighs, her hand on her chin, and she shakes her head. "Here we go again."

You can feel yourself blush a bit, the way you always do when this happens, even though the four of you have had these lunches dozens of times, and Chaewon has always tried to show off her body at some point. She wiggles her jeans off her hips, sliding them down to reveal her black, lacy thong.

"Well?" she poses, turning to the side to show off her ass, "What about now?"

You are certain the three of you are all thinking the same thing—her body is unbelievable—but nobody is going to stroke her ego like that.

"Oh yeah, definitely Kazuha's," you shrug, trying not to let your gaze linger.

"What?!"

It draws a loud laugh from Yunjin, who's hitting the palm of her hand against her thigh as she wheezes. Kazuha, who is usually the shy one of the bunch, can't help but join in on the laughter.

"Fuck you," Chaewon snaps at you, "And fuck you too!" She turns on her heel and points at Kazuha.

Kazuha is still laughing, and she has her head turned away from Chaewon, but you can see her smile grow wider. She's teasing, "Oh come on, Chaewon, it's okay. You look cute."

"I'll show you cute," Chaewon growls, her hand coming down hard on the table. It makes the cutlery rattle, and the three of you glance between yourselves before a shared giggle bubbles up again.

You look up at Chaewon, who has a scowl on her face. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and her jaw is tense. She has one hand on her hip, her fingers digging into her skin, and the other is gripping the table so hard that her knuckles have gone white. Her body is stiff, the only movement being the rise and fall of her chest. Her face is flushed, either with embarrassment or frustration or both, and her lips are parted, letting her breaths pass through.

Her skin is smooth and soft, and when she moves, you can see the muscles ripple under it. She's so lean, so slender, but there's an undeniable strength behind her.

"What, got something to say?" Chaewon bites, noticing your stare.

"Uh," you fumble, your eyes flitting down her body before shooting up to her face again. "Just, um," you clear your throat, trying to shake yourself out of this trance, "Are you gonna leave your jeans off?"

"Until you realise how wrong you are, yes."

"Okay," you chuckle, then return to sipping on your drink.

"So, are we going to go through the rest of the list? Boobs? Which one's the best?" Yunjin can barely speak for her stifled laughter.

Chaewon huffs, then folds her arms across her chest. She pushes her tits together, the low-cut t-shirt working wonders to showcase her cleavage. "Mine," she states proudly.

"Kazuha."

"I can't with you two," Chaewon whines. "What the fuck?"

"You can't win against me," Kazuha says simply.

Chaewon's glare switches between the three of you. She looks like a wild animal ready to pounce. A dangerous, sexy, wild animal.

"You're all fucking useless," she mutters under her breath, turning on her heel. "I'll be right back."

You watch as she stomps off in her underwear and boots, leaving the three of you alone.

"That was fun," Yunjin smirks, sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs. She looks at you and says, "You've got a mean streak. I love it."

"I just like riling her up," you smirk.

"I noticed."

Kazuha giggles, then takes another sip from her cup. You can't help but watch her. Her dark hair is tied up in a messy bun, and even without makeup, she is beautiful. There is a softness to her, an air of innocence, that you can't quite place.

"What are you looking at?" Kazuha asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," you shrug.

"I see the way you look at her," Yunjin says with a wink. "Got you thinking about something, huh?"

"Yeah," you say, not knowing how else to respond.

"I bet it's filthy," Yunjin continues. "How long has it been since you two hooked up, again?"

"Too long," Kazuha answers.

"Oh yeah," Yunjin smiles. "Guess I've been a little greedy recently."

"Just a little," Kazuha giggles, her cheeks dusted with red.

"Stop being so shy and ask him then," Yunjin nods in your direction.

"I'm back!" Chaewon announces, turning heads.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Yunjin asks.

It's nothing but skimpy lingerie. It's black and lacy, hugging her curves perfectly, and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her thong cuts deep between her ass cheeks, and the bra pushes her tits up, not that much is needed. The fabric is sheer, and you can see the dark peaks of her nipples through it.

She's leaning on the doorway as she speaks, "I wasn't going to half-ass it, was I?" Oh, Chaewon, even as you stand there, looking like a whole meal, you still can't resist a good pun. "So," she continues, sauntering over and leaning down, placing her hands on the table and getting in your face. "Have you come to your senses yet?"

You glance away, to look across the table at Yunjin, who's got her eyes fixed on Chaewon's ass and is telling her, "Yeah, no doubt I'm definitely kinda gay. Your butt looks amazing."

"Need more convincing?" Chaewon is looking down her nose at you, a devilish grin spreading across her face.

"More convincing," you repeat.

Chaewon steps between you and the table, pushing the arms of your chair and struggling to move it back.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Convincing." Chaewon turns to the table, puts her chest flat against it and arches her back, giving you the most brazen display. "Is it working?"

"It's..."

"Working," Yunjin finishes for you as she stands up to admire the view.

You take a moment to appreciate her, the way she's bent over the table, the way her ass looks so round and perfect. The way her thighs are toned and muscular, and the way they press together, gives her just a little more shape. You want to touch her, to reach out and run your hands along her smooth skin.

"I'd let her sit on my face," Yunjin whispers as if she could read your mind.

"Oh yeah, for sure," Kazuha adds.

"Would you two shut up? I'm trying to get my point across."

"Don't let us stop you."

Chaewon lets out an irritated sigh, then gets up and sits herself down in your lap. Her hips roll forward, and you can feel her warmth. You can't help yourself, you slip a hand around her waist and rest it on her stomach.

"Do you like this?" Chaewon asks, her voice low and seductive. She leans back, letting her head rest against your shoulder, her breath hot on your ear. "How about this?" She shifts her hips, grinding her ass against your crotch. You bite back a moan, your fingers digging into her flesh.

"You know," Yunjin says, watching as Chaewon continues to rub her ass against you, "We could have a lot more fun with this."

"What do you mean?" Kazuha asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Well," Yunjin's eyes flick over to meet yours. "If you're not gonna fight for your spot, our friend here might change his mind. How about a competition?"

"Competition?" Chaewon repeats.

"I'm talking a showdown," Yunjin explains, a wide grin on her face. Chaewon is staring blankly at her, and Yunjin rolls her eyes. "Ass vs ass. Who's got the better booty?"

"I'm in," Chaewon immediately agrees.

"What?" Kazuha squeaks.

"Oh, come on. You're not going to back down, are you?"

"No, I'm not," Kazuha states, standing up.

"You don't have to do this," you tell them.

"Shut up," Chaewon shoots back, a smirk on her face.

"Let's settle this once and for all," Yunjin declares. She pulls the table away, leaving you in the middle of the dining room with Chaewon on your knee. She pulls Kazuha to her feet and stands in front of her. Their eyes are locked on each other, both looking nervous. You can't take your eyes off them, especially when Yunjin slides her hands down Kazuha's abs. "First, let's catch you up, get you out of these clothes.

Yunjin hooks her fingers into the waistband of Kazuha's jeans and starts to pull them down, revealing the soft, creamy skin of her thighs. Kazuha lifts her feet out of her shoes and pants, leaving her standing in a pair of white panties.

"Damn, girl, you look good," Yunjin purrs, running her hands along Kazuha's thighs, squeezing the soft flesh.

Meanwhile, Chaewon turns her attention to you, first by pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside, then moving on to undoing the buttons on your pants. You're already achingly hard, from having her ass grinding against you, her hands on you, and her scent filling your nostrils. She stands up and steps back, allowing you to stand and drop your pants, then step out of them, leaving you only in your boxers.

"Looks like someone is ready," she teases, looking at the bulge.

You blush, embarrassed, but you can't help the way your cock twitches at her words.

"Alright," Yunjin calls.

The two girls are standing side by side now. Yunjin has sat you down and is standing behind you, her hands on your shoulders, her breath hot on the back of your neck. She's looking between the two girls, taking in their bodies, her eyes filled with lust. Kazuha is biting her lip, her hands clasped together in front of her, her body stiff.

"First, let's see who can move their ass better. Show off what you've got," Yunjin commands.

Chaewon is the first to act, bending over and shaking her hips. Her ass is swaying from side to side, her hips moving in circles, and her ass jiggling with every motion. Her back is arched, her legs straight, and her thighs pressed together, giving her ass the perfect shape.

"Nice," Yunjin whistles.

Kazuha takes a deep breath. She turns to show you her ass, putting her arms above her head and swaying her hips. She doesn't have the same confidence as Chaewon, but her ass still looks great.

"Fuck yeah," Yunjin says, her hand trailing down your chest and stomach.

"You think that's good?" Chaewon huffs. "Watch this."

She backs up towards you, stopping when her ass is almost touching your crotch, and leans back, arching her back. Her ass is pushed out, the curves and lines of her body on display. She places her hands on her ass cheeks and then starts to squeeze and knead her flesh, moaning softly as she does so.

"Fuck, that's hot," Yunjin breathes.

"Don't stop," you gasp.

Kazuha has renewed fight, stepping and dropping her ass against your lap. It's all in the hips, the way she moves, and how her body rolls. It's different from Chaewon, there's a grace to it and a fluidity. She turns, looking back at you, her eyes full of fire, her lips curled into a sly smile. You know that look. It's like a switch is flicked inside her.

"Fuck," you groan, reaching out to grab her, to pull her closer.

Kazuha leans forward, her back arched, and you draw her thick ass towards your cock. Soon enough, Chaewon follows, and you become the filling of an ass sandwich.

"Oh fuck, that looks good," Yunjin says, her hand sliding beneath your waistband and grabbing your cock. She starts to stroke it, slow and steady, teasing the tip with her thumb. But, as their assets draw closer, Yunjin is forced to relinquish, the girls taking hold of your cock between their asses, and rubbing their cheeks against you.

"Ahh, fuck, that's so fucking hot," you moan.

"Yeah, baby, you like that?" Yunjin purrs in your ear.

"God yes," you breathe, your head falling back against her chest.

Chaewon laughs, a smug sound, "He's definitely loving mine."

"In your dreams," Kazuha hisses.

"What was that?"

"I said," Kazuha pushes her ass, to slide your length between her cheeks, rubbing along the fabric of her thong, "He likes my ass more."

"I don't think so," Chaewon shoots back, fighting for position. The girls are ass to ass, cheeks squishing against each other. Your cock is caught between them, and they both start to rock their hips, the friction making you hiss.

"You're both driving me crazy," you moan.

"Yeah?" Chaewon smirks.

"How about this," Kazuha adds, her hips moving faster, and her ass squeezing tighter. It's all matched and challenged by Chaewon, who's moving her hips, and rocking her ass, and doing everything she can to keep up.

This whole thing is fucking ludicrous, don't get it twisted. This is the most insane thing you have ever seen, or done. Two gorgeous women, two insanely sexy asses, both fighting for a chance to prove that theirs is the best. And you're right there, between them, your cock assaulted by the most amazing sensation.

"How are we going to settle this?" Chaewon growls, her ass grinding hard against your cock.

"I'm not stopping until he cums," Kazuha shoots back, her ass moving even faster.

"Me either," Chaewon huffs.

"Wait, wait, stop," you gasp, to no avail. The girls just keep on grinding, keep on rocking, keep on fighting.

"Shh," Yunjin purrs, her hands roaming your chest, and her lips ghosting across the back of your neck. "Let them have their fun."

You moan, your body tense, your cock throbbing between their asses. The girls are panting, their breath heavy, and their bodies slick with sweat. Their skin is hot, their bodies flushed, and their hearts pounding.

"He's getting close," Chaewon smirks, "I can feel it."

"For me," Kazuha insists.

"I'm doing all the work," Chaewon snaps back, her hips rolling faster, and her ass pressing harder.

"Stop, fuck," you hiss, feeling your cock throb, feeling that familiar sensation rising in the pit of your stomach.

"Tell me it's for me. Cum for me, baby."

"No, for me. He's cumming for me," Kazuha shoots back.

And then, it hits. It's an explosion, your body jerking, your muscles spasming. Your head is thrown back, a groan ripped from your throat, and your hips bucking wildly.

"That's it," Chaewon smirks, looking over her shoulder. "I did it. He's cumming because of me."

"No, me," Kazuha pouts, turning her head.

You spill over them, thick, hot cum spraying all over their asses and backs, leaving sticky ropes of white across their smooth, flawless skin.

"F-fuck," you gasp, trying to catch your breath.

"Holy shit," Yunjin murmurs, "That was... fuck.

"It's mine," Chaewon says, her tone cocky and arrogant.

"No, it's mine," Kazuha growls.

The two of them continue their argument, but you can barely hear them. Your body is still recovering, your mind reeling, and your heart racing. What a fucking rush.

"Who's got the best ass? Well," Yunjin chuckles, "It's a tie if you ask me."

"A tie?" Chaewon repeats.

"Yeah, a tie."

"Well, I'm not calling it a tie," Kazuha says.

"Me either," Chaewon huffs, standing upright and glaring at the other woman.

"You're both pretty great," Yunjin states, her hand on your shoulder.

"Kazuha is great, me? I'm perfect."

"Okay," Yunjin sighs. "There's still something he needs to test. You can't decide on the best ass without fucking them both."

"What?" Chaewon and Kazuha gasp at the same time.

"You get five minutes each, then swap. First to make him cum is the winner."

"Deal," Chaewon and Kazuha say simultaneously, their gazes burning into each other.

"Well then," Yunjin says, standing up. "Over the table girls."

You're still fucking out of it. Slumped in the chair while Yunjin guides them over the table, bent at the waist and presenting their asses to you. The girls are draped in your cum, and Yunjin has the task of plucking off their underwear, leaving them bare and naked. Then she comes and pulls you to your feet, positioning you behind Chaewon.

"Cum in whichever feels the best, okay? Wait here a minute." Yunjin runs off to the bedroom, giving Chaewon a chance to bargain with you.

"Come on, you know I've got the better ass. And you know what it can do for you. Just think of all the other times you've fucked my ass. Don't tell me you want Kazuha's ass instead?"

"Uh," you mumble.

"Oh come on," she wiggles her ass, "Look at this."

"Sorry," Yunjin says, reappearing with a bottle in her hand. "Gotta do this right." Yunjin takes a blob of lube in her hand and rubs it onto your cock. It's cold, and it makes you shudder. Then she takes some and rubs it onto Chaewon's ass.

"Fuck," she squeaks, her body trembling.

"Ready?" Yunjin asks.

"Y-yeah."

"Five minutes, go!"

Yunjin pushes you by the hips toward Chaewon, not that you need any encouragement to slip your length between her cheeks.

"That's it, fuck me. Come on, baby. Let's see whose ass feels better."

It's slow to begin, pushing your way into her little asshole. She's still so tight, and even with the added slick, it takes a bit of effort. But she's warm and snug around your cock, and her ass is perfect.

"Fuck, I forgot how big you were," she moans, her voice strained.

"She can't even take it," mocks Kazuha.

"Shut up, I can," Chaewon bites back. "Go on, deeper."

Yunjin has her hand on your hip, guiding you deeper and deeper until you bottom out. Her ass is pressed right against your hips, and she's whimpering. You give her a few moments to adjust before starting to move, pulling out slowly, then pushing back in. You're stretching her out, forcing her to accommodate your length, and her hole is clenching around you.

"Fuck, I love the feeling of your cock," she gasps.

"We all do," Kazuha says flatly.

"Not as much as I do," Chaewon pants.

"Come on, you can fuck her faster," Yunjin whispers in your ear.

So you pick up the pace, your hips moving, and your cock thrusting deep into her. She's moaning and writhing beneath you, her ass shaking with every impact, her body trembling. You can't stop yourself, you're pounding her hard, slamming your cock deep inside her. The cum on her cheeks is smeared, making the sight even more filthy.

"Shit," she groans, her ass bouncing back against your hips.

You're lost in her, fucking her hard and fast, making her take every inch of you. You're grunting, your balls slapping against her skin, and your cock stretching her hole. You're losing control, the sounds of your fucking filling the room.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," she moans.

"You're such a slut," Kazuha hisses.

"Oh fuck," Chaewon cries, her ass clenching around your cock, her body convulsing, and her pussy dripping. "Oh my god, fuck," she screams, her whole body tensing, and her eyes rolling back.

"Holy shit," you gasp, your cock throbbing and twitching.

"Alright, time's up," Yunjin says, grabbing you and pulling you away from her.

"What the fuck, no, don't stop," Chaewon pleads.

"Swap," Yunjin demands, shoving you towards Kazuha.

You stumble forward, your cock aching and throbbing. You're still sensitive, and the sudden change has your head spinning. Yunjin covers you again with more lube and slaps your ass to let you know to begin.

Kazuha's chest is flat on the table, her cheek pressed against the wood, and her hands gripping the edge. She turns to look at you, her eyes full of silent desire. There's an arch to her back, and her ass is perfectly presented, just waiting for you to enter her.

"Take her," Yunjin whispers and her hand pushes down on your hip.

You step forward, the tip of your cock pressing against her asshole. You can see her muscles tensing, and she lets out a soft moan as you push into her. She's even tighter than Chaewon, her body squeezing and gripping your cock. She's not nearly as experienced, her reactions are more innocent.

"Oh," she gasps, her body shivering, "That's... that's really good."

You grab her hips, your fingers digging into her flesh, and you push deeper, feeling her asshole stretch and open up for you. She lets out a sharp cry, and you pause, giving her a moment to relax.

"Keep going," she pleads, her voice thick with lust.

You start to move, sliding out of her and then pushing back in. She's hot and tight around you, and her muscles are contracting, squeezing and clenching, pulling you deeper into her.

"Oh my god, it's so good," she moans.

Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open, and her body is quivering. You keep going, thrusting harder and deeper, until you're buried in her ass. She lets out a long, low moan, and you can feel her trembling.

"She can barely take it," Chaewon laughs.

"Don't listen to her," Kazuha pleads, looking over her shoulder at you. "Just keep going, please."

You groan a response and start to pound her harder. Sticky flesh slapping together, your hands holding her steady, and her cries filling the room. You're fucking her rough, and she's taking every inch of you. It feels incredible, and the pleasure builds, your cock throbbing and aching.

"Come on, cum for me," she whines.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," you gasp, your hips bucking. Just one slap of her ass and it's marked already, red and pink from the impact.

"You're close," she whimpers.

"Keep going," Yunjin encourages. "Two minutes or they both lose."

Your whole body is trembling, and your head is spinning. Your cock is so hard and aching, and your balls are tight. Your hips are bucking, and you're fucking her with abandon, her ass taking every inch.

"Come on," she begs.

You groan, and then you're there, your whole body shuddering, and your cock pulsing and throbbing, emptying your cum into her ass. As soon as Chaewon sees that look on your face, she knows she's lost. She whines a defeated sound and slumps against the table.

Kazuha is the one smiling though, and as she stands, you notice her knees are a bit weak. "I win," she announces, a little triumphant.

"You cheated," Chaewon pouts.

"How the hell did I cheat?"

"I don't know, you just did." Chaewon's got that little pouty expression stuck to her face, and she swears her revenge. "Next time, I'll beat you. You'll see."

"If you say so," Kazuha smiles, looking at the mess leaking from her ass. You're stumbling back and Yunjin is your support, keeping you steady.

Yunjin is in your ear, "You've still got another round in you, right?"

"I don't know," you pant.

"You, me and the shower. Think about it."

"Yeah," you manage, and then her hand is on your arm, leading you to the bathroom.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Chaewon demands, her hands on her hips.

"Shower," Yunjin calls, dragging you along. "You girls caused this mess, you can clean up. Maybe even lick his cum off each other's asses."

"No, don't leave," Chaewon whines.

But, it's too late, the door is closing, and Yunjin is pushing you up against the wall. "You know," she whispers, her hands on your chest and her body pressed against yours, "I'm kinda turned on."

"Yeah?"

"Watching them fight over you was so hot."

"Yeah, it was," you admit.

"So," she presses her lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, and slipping her tongue into your mouth.

You return her passion, your hands running up her body, and down her back. She breaks the kiss, and looks up at you, a coy smile on her lips.

"Let's have a little fun," she murmurs, reaching behind her and turning on the shower. The water flows, steam fills the air, and Yunjin steps under the stream, letting it cascade over her naked body.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"What's the matter?" she teases, grabbing the bottle of soap and squirting it onto her chest. She lathers up her chest, spreading the foamy liquid over her smooth skin, her nipples hardening as the suds run down her body.

"You're gorgeous," you say, stepping towards her.

She grabs you by the hips, pulling you close, her hands roaming your body. Her skin is slick with soap, her touch gentle and teasing. She's looking up at you, her eyes filled with desire.

"Are you ready?" she whispers, her voice husky.

"Always," you grin, cupping her breasts and kneading them in your hands.

"Fuck," she sighs, leaning into you, her eyes closed, and her body relaxed.

You kiss her, tasting her lips, your tongue sliding against hers. She moans, her hands trailing down your back, and her nails digging into your skin.

"Mmm, so good," she murmurs, breaking the kiss and looking up at you. "All this anal stuff has got me thinking, maybe it's time we tried something new."

"Really?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't think it was ever really your thing? You always said a butt plug was enough."

"I've been practising," she winks.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Maybe it's best if I show you."

"Oh," you grin.

"So," she purrs, wrapping her arms around your neck and pressing her body against yours. "You want to see what I can do?"

"Fuck yes," you breathe, a rush of excitement running through your body.

She smiles, biting her lip and pulling away from you. She turns her back to you, facing the wall, and places her hands flat on the tile. She arches her back, and you watch as she spreads her legs and bends further and further over. Her ass is sticking out, her perfect, plump cheeks inviting you in.

You can't help yourself. You kneel behind her, grab her cheeks and spread them wide. She lets out a soft moan, and you press your face into her ass, inhaling her sweet scent.

"Fuck," you groan, kissing her puckered hole.

"Mmm," she moans, pushing her ass back into your face.

"That feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she whispers, her breath hitching in her throat.

You tease her with your tongue, licking her asshole, and swirling the tip around the rim. She shivers, and you push a finger into her, probing her, exploring her. She's so tight, and the sounds she's making are driving you wild.

"Please," she begs, her voice a desperate whisper. "Please fuck me."

"Are you sure?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice.

"Yes," she says, looking back at you. "I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I'm finally ready."

"You don't have to, we can just have a regular fuck."

"No," she insists, her eyes blazing. "I want to try it, and I want you to be the one to do it."

"Fuck," you growl, pulling your finger out of her ass and standing up. You press the tip of your cock against her, and she whimpers. A shiver runs through her, and her hands ball into fists. There's this tension in the air, and her breathing is shallow and fast. Utterly shameless, she reaches back and pulls her asscheeks apart, opening herself up for you.

"Come on," she whimpers. "Do it. Put it in."

You press against her, your cock throbbing, and her asshole quivering. You push, and she gasps, her muscles tightening, her body tensing. But she doesn't pull away. You push again, harder, and her asshole starts to give way, stretching and opening for you. She lets out a strangled cry, her ass clenching around your cock, as the first few inches slip into her. You can go no further. No amount of practice could prepare her for this.

"You're so tight," you groan.

"It hurts," she whines, her body trembling.

"Just relax, okay?"

"I can't," she moans, her muscles straining.

"Just breathe," you say, stroking her back and ass.

She takes a deep breath, and then another, and then a third. You can feel her body relaxing, her muscles loosening, her asshole stretching.

"That's it," you encourage, pushing deeper into her. "How's that? Better?"

"Yes," she whispers, her eyes rolling back in her head.

You slowly start to move, thrusting in and out of her ass. She's so tight, her body gripping your cock like a clenched fist. Her moans fill the room, echoing off the tiles.

"Fuck," she hisses, her head hanging low, her shoulders hunched. Yunjin has always been the hold-out. Her anal virginity has eluded you, but not any more. Finally, all the best asses in K-pop are willing to take you. There's nothing better.

"Fuck," she groans, her nails scraping against the tiles. "Harder."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she pants.

You grab her hips and start fucking her harder, it's still tough to get more than half of your length inside her, but what she's taking is driving her crazy.

You hook a hand underneath her, past her toned stomach to play with her pussy. She's soaked, dripping with lust, her clit hard and swollen. You tease her, stroking and rubbing her, and she cries out, her whole body tensing.

"You're gonna make me cum," she gasps, her hips bucking against your hand.

"Not until I say so," you growl. She whimpers, her ass tightening around your cock, her legs trembling. You lean forward, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Who am I?" you snarl, fucking her ass harder.

"Ah," she whines, her voice strained. "You're...you're my daddy."

"That's right," you growl, your cock throbbing. "Now cum for me."

You rub her clit, and she cums, her whole body convulsing, and her pussy gushing. It's a powerful orgasm, and she's shaking and crying out, her ass squeezing your cock like crazy. She grows weak, barely able to stand and take it. You pull out, let her fall to her knees, and then take hold of her hair to face you.

She's looking up at you with this expression like she's drunk, or high. A good ass fucking and she is a mess. A happy mess. One that's perfect to be coated in your load.

You stroke yourself, staring down at her, and her eyes widen, her lips parted and waiting. You grunt a shudder runs through you, and your cock erupts. Thick ropes of cum splatter across her face, covering her cheeks, her lips, and her nose. She's whimpering, stroking her tits and moaning out words of pure filth for you. "So much cum for your favourite girl. We both know those two don't stand a chance against me."

She's a mess. She's a hot, filthy mess. You step back, admiring her, a smug satisfaction filling your mind while she licks your cum from around her mouth. "Don't get complacent," you tease.

"Never."

#Le sserafim smut #kpop smut #male reader #Yunjin smut #Chaewon smut #Kazuha smut #lesserafim smut #kpop fanfic #m reader #kpop fanfiction #smut

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cherry-leclerc · 1 month ago

Text

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him.

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often."

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?”

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters.

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t.

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones.

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body.

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver.

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower.

He’s just becoming— too real.

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his.

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush.

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble.

The start of the season is always tough.

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn.

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world.

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing.

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention.

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand.

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough.

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles.

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend?

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words.

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing.

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.”

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement.

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry.

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room.

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help.

Woah, are you feeling alright?

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.”

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright.

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you.

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter.

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek.

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little.

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration.

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you.

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground.

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open.

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver.

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace.

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.”

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.”

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat.

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.”

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose.

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering.

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it.

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers.

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers.

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs.

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess.

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon.

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando.

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.”

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands.

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.”

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.”

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him.

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again.

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan.

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing.

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.”

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief.

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.”

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision.

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk.

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing.

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off.

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop.

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you?

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning.

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other.

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry.

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath.

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer.

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning.

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome.

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando.

You what?

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers.

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream.

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean.

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.”

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts.

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice.

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to.

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has.

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might.

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.”

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct.

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now.

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once.

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it.

It was never going to be you.

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues.

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt?

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend.

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing.

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head his nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you.

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded.

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you?

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab.

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough.

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.”

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring.

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle.

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.”

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes.

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly.

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes.

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock.

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place.

“What about me?”

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

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milkloafy · 5 months ago

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I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.”

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response.

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.”

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.”

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.”

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you.

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him.

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate.

You blinked. “What about you?”

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?”

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here.

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…”

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #genshin imagines #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley fluff #genshin x you #genshin impact #wriothesley

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wifeyoozi · 5 months ago

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mingyu & wonwoo : Still stuffed, one shot, double kill

w.c : 3.1 k ┊ synopsis : boyfriends mingyu and wonwoo give their bestfriend more than you could have bargained for, but you are not complaining┊ content warning : smut , best friends to lovers sorta, bisexual threesome (m/m/f) , oral sex (f + m rec) , edging , hard dom (top) wonu + sub (bottom) gyu + sub reader , slight size kink , (idrk what its called but ig sandwich sex?) , anal (m rec) a/n : note that depiction of mingyu and wonwoo as bisexual is just for the entertainment of this fic and I do not intend to impose any sexuality on them irl. also I was absolutely wasted drunk when I wrote this so I don't even know just nasty threesome.

it was just another video game night with wonwoo and mingyu. it was at your house, like always, because you had a gaming system installed in your bedroom instead of the living room unlike wonwoo and mingyu's shared apartment. and all three of you agreed that the bed was more comfortable to spread out and sit on while gaming.

you yelped from the right side of the bed, having won yet another round (well, technically you came second, but at least you won against mingyu). the screen in front showed the game over slide once again. you sighed and got of the bed to stretch your libs a little.

"i'm getting more beer," you announced seeing all three of your cans empty already, "y'all need anything else?"

"some snacks would be great!" mingyu called out. you took the empty cans to dispose off and left the bedroom.

you, mingyu and wonwoo have been best friends forever. you and mingyu had been childhood friends since you were neighbours. you met wonwoo in highschool and decided immediately to make him part of your little gang. the friendship remained as solid as it could throughout school and college.

wonwoo and mingyu had started dating around last year after pinning over each other for almost 2 years until mingyu asked wonwoo out for a date finally and wonwoo agreed shyly. you knew both boys were in some part of the bisexual spectrum and them dating didn't change a thing in your friendship. you were happy for them and rooted for them all the time, but you'd lie if you were to say you weren't a little jealous. you just wished you had someone to take care of you the way they did of each other. of course, they took care of you almost as well as a boyfriend would, but its been so long since your last relationship that you need more than just care.

meanwhile, mingyu and wonwoo had started making out on your bed in your absence, kissing nastily with wet noises enveloping the room. "mingyu, stop, y/n is gonna come soon," wonwoo whisper yells when he felt mingyu's hand get frisky over his sweatpants.

"i can't help it baby. you're so hot, winning every round like that. you deserve some reward," mingyu argues and wonwoo can't the sound that escapes his throat when mingyu latches his mouth on his neck, "besides, its been so long, i can barely keep away from you."

wonwoo chuckle, "we fucked last night."

"my point, its so long already," mingyu said sucking a hickey on wonwoo's neck. they were too lost in their own world to notice the door opening.

"uhm, guys?" you didn't mean to interrupt them, but you were also not exactly sure what you were supposed to do seeing them make out like animals in heat on your bed. it was hot to see them frisky like that, you had never before seen them get like this, but you had to remind yourself that it was not appropriate to think of your two best friends like that.

"o-oh! y/n! we're so sorry-" wonwoo stumbled to say, pulling away from mingyu and adjusting his glasses back up.

you didn't exactly know how to react. for one, it was difficult to unsee the growing bulges in both boys' pants. it wont be very easy to continue the game again after having that image in your mind. the beer you have had has made you a little horny - its an effect alcohol seems to have on you always - and your hot gay bestfriends weren't making it easier for you.

"whatchu thinking 'bout?" mingyu asks in a more teasing tone, seeing you malfunctioning and just standing in your place like a broken machine, "thinking 'bout joining us?"

mingyu was smacked on his arm by his boyfriend, "gyu! be nicer!"

"what? its not the worst idea," mingyu says, rubbing the spot he'd been hit on, "i remember her mentioning her interest in threesomes last time we got drunk at joey's. besides, i know you find her really hot, you'd love it too, right? i see this as a win-win!"

"i-i never said that!"

"oh but your eyes say it all, baby. i've seen how you check out her ass all the time. i am not complaining, don't worry, i do find her really hot too." mingyu was smacked again.

"boys, boys! what are y'all talking about?" you were dumbfounded. wonwoo checks out your ass!? mingyu finds you hot!? that's some great information to digest. wonwoo and mingyu share glances, as if speaking more than that you can hear with their eyes alone

"say, y/n, i'm horny, nonu is horny, and you could join us if you like, no pressure, but we'd really make it worth your time," mingyu says, looking back at you.

"you don't have to if you don't want to. you could say no and we'd never speak of it again," wonwoo adds.

you think about it seriously. on one hand you were really arounsed and your bestfriends' bulging sizes against their respective pants were sending blood to your crotch and they just offered you for a threesome. then on the other hand, your conscience said it was morally wrong to do this.

fortunately for you and your throbbing pussy, you had just the right amount of alcohol in your system to put your morals aside.

"okay, what the hell," you mumble and jump on the bed between the two, pulling them both by the collar. mingyu giggles as he pins you down and connects his lips to yours instantly. you feel two pairs of hands exploring your body, feeling you up and messing with your clothes. mingyu ravishes your mouth with his tongue, kissing you wet and dirty.

you are surprised when wonwoo pushes aside mingyu's head to take his turn to kiss you. you whine into his mouth, feeling the sudden change. wonwoo can taste mingyu in your mouth still, and the mixed flavours with the taste of your mouth turn him on incredibly. if you thought mingyu was a dirty kisser, wonwoo was worse. his spit was all over the places as he kissed you hungrily and open-mouthedly, and you absolutely loved it.

it must be visible on your face because mingyu chuckled at you, already taking off his clothes, "i should warn you, y/n, wonwoo may look shy and innocent with his nerdy glasses, but he is a complete freak in bed. he is a literal sex monster."

you gasped at mingyu's words. wonwoo took the opportunity to stick his tongue deep down your throat, making you almost choke. then suddenly, it was gone. wonwoo pulled back from you, making you chase his lips, but he pushed you down. he sat up on the bed, taking off his t-shirt, making you whine as he did it all so slowly.

"mingyu, take off her clothes."

mingyu obeyed so. your shirt was pulled off you, your bra taken off at a speed that your think the clasps must've broken, and your shorts yanked off. you felt cold and exposed out in the air, so you tried to approach mingyu to kiss you again, heat your body with his again. but your hair was pulled, making you fall back on the bed with a gasp.

"did i say you could kiss him already?" wonwoo's eyes were dark, and you were scared of him in a hot way which made you want to obey everything he says like a little obedient slut. you were leaking so bad from his strong demeanor, you were sure they both could see the huge dark spot on your panties.

wonwoo leaned by your ears, and whispered softly, "if i make you uncomfortable with my words or action, you can tell me to stop, yeah?"

you nodded, but you didn't plan to. if anything, you wanted him to keep acting meaner to you. you didn't know you would be into being dominated like this until now.

wonwoo snaps at mingyu after that, "open her legs up, kiss her thighs." mingyu does just that, slowly spreading you knees apart and placing buttery wet kisses long your thighs, nearing to your core. you cannot make out if the sound he makes is a laugh or a moan against your soft thighs when he sees how wet you are.

wonwoo snakes his hand down to your breasts, grabbing one in each hand and slowly kneading the flesh. "take her panties off," wonwoo commands mingyu and he does so. "lick her up. she's making a mess, lick all her juices up."

mingyu licks a flat strip along your pussy, his tongue dipping into your folds. wonwoo helps him, reaches a hand to open your outer labia with two fingers, and properly gives mingyu access. mingyu licks a long strip from your slit to your clit and you let out loud whorish moans to let it be known how much you love this.

"squeeze his head with your thighs, he likes that," wonwoo tells you and you comply with him without even thinking. you press your thighs to mingyu's ears, enough to for him to feel the pressure but not so much you'd hurt him. but that's not what wonwoo wants. "more," he he tells you, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his head until, --

oh. mingyu moaned over your cunt, and you felt the vibrations. wonwoo smirked when he heard it too. he grabbed a hold of mingyu's short hair tightly and pushed his head deeper into your cunt. you understand now. mingyu likes being hurt like this. he likes being controlled by wonwoo. you couldn't hear what wonwoo said next, lost in the thoughts when you suddenly felt a tongue dart into your cunt, earning a choked moan from your lips.

wonwoo leaned down to kiss your nipples, sucking on them and licking them up like a hungry cat. your hands reached over his head, lacing your fingers through his soft hair. you were close already and both the boys could sense it from the way your moans got more erratic and your thighs trembled.

you were just about to reach your high when wonwoo grabbed mingyu's head and pushed him away from your cunt. a cry left your lips, your cunt spasming and clenching around nothing with all sensations gone. you felt tears filling up your eyes as wonwoo leaned down and kissed your lips.

"there, there. it wasn't that bad now, was it? i know a pretty girl like you can take better," wonwoo's words were comforting, as his hands rubbed circles on the side of your hips, but his tone was awfully teasing and it just made you want to cry harder.

wonwoo instructed mingyu to sit up on the bed against the headboard and got you on all fours in front of him so your face was to mingyu and ass to wonwoo who was preparing his dick behind you. mingyu's dick was red and hard against his belly, but he wouldn't dare touch it without wonwoo's instructions. mingyu and wonwoo were a little similar in sizes, you noticed (and it made your mouth salivate), except mingyu was thicker than wonwoo and the latter was longer.

it was more so of a punishment for you too, to just watch his painfully erect dick and not put it in your mouth. hell, you couldn't even kiss his pretty pink pouty lips until wonwoo said you could. you had only spent twenty minutes with wonwoo and mingyu in bed, but you already knew the rules of this game. you knew wonwoo was in charge of everything and you should obey everything he says, otherwise the consequences could be harsh. and that turned you on incredibly.

wonwoo played with his dick, sliding along the length of your slit, teasing you. "wonu, please," you whimpered needily.

"hm? did you say something?" wonwoo said in a fake tone, landing a smack on your ass, only to rub the spot soothingly soon after, "its difficult to hear with this beautiful pussy in front of my eyes."

you whined again, tears falling down your cheeks. mingyu was smirking at you, as if he was in any better position than you with his throbing untouched dick.

"daddy, please, fuck me," you whimpered at wonwoo.

the latter chuckled, slowly pushing his head into your cunt, already prepped and stretched by mingyu's tongue before. "shit, you're so fucking needy. just a needy little slut, arent you? don't worry, i'll fill your pussy up."

he set a high speed for you. you gasp and almost fall face-flat on the bed, only to be held up by mingyu. mingyu's other hand clutched the sheets, trying his best not to lose control. he liked being a good boy for wonwoo. the rough punishment-fuck was good, yes, but he loved the way wonwoo praised him and rewarded him better. besides, he had to be a good role model for you.

wonwoo could see the desperation on his boyfriend's face, and chuckled, deciding he deserved a treat. "mingyu has been a really good boy, don't you think, y/n? why don't you blow his dick, hm?"

wonwoo pushed your head down till your mouth was on mingyu's dick. you licked a long strip lengthwise on his erection, testing and teasing. mingyu let out a guttarial moan and you took his dick inside your mouth as far as it could go. wonwoo wasn't satisfied with your mediocre efforts, and pushed your head till you swallowed all of mingyu.

you forced your gag reflexes to relax as mingyu's head hit the back of your throat. with wonwoo's relentless speed, your head bobbed over mingyu's dick from inertia alone, not having to do a lot of work. mingyu's thighs started convulsing soon and both of you were near to your edge already. you thought if you don't let it show you were close, wonwoo wouldn't notice until you're actually cumming and he wouldn't be able to edge you a second time.

it was risky, but you really wanted to cum already.

unfortunately for you, mingyu was too obedient to his boyfriend to cum down your throat without asking first.

"wonu, i'm close," he whined, making wonwoo pull your head off mingyu by your hair, making you whine loudly. you whined even louder when wonwoo exited you without giving you the release you needed.

"you are really noisy, y'know that?" wonwoo tells you teasingly. "good for you, i love hearing your sweet voice. stay in your position. mingyu come back here."

mingyu stands up on weak legs and kneels on the edge of the bed in front of your ass, his dick the perfect height to your entrance. wonwoo took a hold of his lover's dick and slowly pushed it in you again. you gasped at the unexpected intrusion. "hold her hips, baby, or she'll fall. she's so weak, you gotta help her. now, don't move yet, be patient."

mingyu stays still, painfully deep inside you. you loved the stretch from his dick. you could almost feel his tip brush against your sweet spot - if only he'd move a little and hit it with force.

you heard a whimper from mingyu, making you look back over your shoulder. your eyes widened, seeing wonwoo fingering mingyu from the back, two fingers deep already, preparing him. you realised what was about to come instantly. you turned your back and waited in anticipation, knowing that the best blow will come with the surprise of it.

you couldn't be more right because as soon as wonwoo's hips snapped against mingyu's, mingyu's snapped against yours, going balls deep. the feeling was extreme, one of a kind, and thrilly. mingyu's dick hit every right spot at every hit, making you reach cloud nine with the feeling. if not for mingyu's hands supporting your hips, you would have fallen down already with how weak your limbs felt.

the room sounded really filthy with the rhythmic double slapping of skins mixed with your moans, mingyu's whimpers and wonwoo's groans. but certainly mingyu was having the best time among you three, with his prostrate being abused by his boyfriend's dick on one end and having his dick swallowed by his best friend's pussy on the other. his eyes were rolling back and his throat ached with the loud noises it created. he was close a second time and he let his boyfriend know of it.

"cum on her pretty ass," wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a loud smack of his hand on mingyu's ass, making the latter cry. just as instructed, mingyu exited you before cumming ropes of white semen in your ass. "such a good puppy. now help her cum too. use your fingers on her clit."

mingyu's fingers found their way to your sensitive clit, rubbing in circular motions. you barely took any time before you were squirting, wetting the bed under you with a cry. you let your body fall on the bed and turn on your back so you could embrace mingyu, who fell right on top of you. wonwoo had slowed his speed a little to let his lover come down from his high at a relaxed pace without overstimulating him.

you kissed mingyu and mingyu kissed you, both finding comfort in the wet warmth of the other's mouth. the sight was oddly a turn-on for wonwoo, who soon came deep inside mingyu's ass, giving him a creampie as he exited. mingyu rolled over on the bed beside you, eyes closed shut from the tiredness.

you vaguely saw wonwoo get up and leave to the bathroom before your own eyes fell shut. you were sleepy already, it's probably past your usual bedtime. you barely registered being wiped clean with a warm and wet towel before being dressed in your pajama shorts and a loose tshirt. when your eyes opened wonwoo was doing the same to mingyu, kissing him on the top of his head after.

mingyu rolled to his side and snuggled against you sleepily, making you giggle softly while wonwoo got himself a pair of grey shorts to put on. wonwoo pouted and mumbled something under his breath before he snuggled on your other side. both the boys practically sandwiched you, with your back to wonwoo and front to mingyu.

you saw as the boyfriends shared a goodnight kiss, the sweetness dripping, making you smile for them. then mingyu looked at you with pouted lips, and you muttered a me too? before he pressed a kiss to your lips. you giggled as wonwoo picked your cheek as goodnight too.

"so, uhm, is this a thing now? we ... three?"

"it could be, if you like."

"i think i'd like it, it be great."

"this is so perfect, my cute little boyfriend and my cute little girlfriend." mingyu chuckled.

"i'm not little!" you and wonwoo whined simultaneously.

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luveline · 6 months ago

Text

—you meet Spencer again after losing out on the BAU job. he comforts you while you do your best not to flirt. bombshell!reader, 0.9k

You lose out on the BAU job to Elle Greenaway. It drives you crazy.

You work just as hard as Elle does, you’re professional no matter what Jason Gideon has to say about you, and you know you could do it. You have just as many successes as Elle does.

It makes you feel sick. You tried so, so hard.

I’m sorry, Hotch had said, and at least you’d had his support. He was kind enough to tell you in person. I can’t make the decision without Gideon, and if he thinks you aren’t right for it right now, we’ll have to wait.

Wait. As though Jason Gideon was ever going to change his mind about you.

You open your purse and take out the barrel of your sheer lipstick. Your compact is next. You hold the mirror up and angle your face in the sun, popping the lid off of the lipstick, and pressing its flat end to your bottom lip. The line you draw is perfectly precise. Your hand barely trembles.

You drop the mirror down and rub your lips together slowly. No matter what falls out of your control, you can present yourself to your liking. You can be immaculate. You—

“Hi.”

You look up from your rumination, startled. You’d been thinking so hard someone actually got the run up on you.

“Hi,” you say, tilting your head gently toward your shoulder.

Dr. Spencer Reid stands a polite three feet away from you. He’s suddenly changed. The last time you met him he was wearing his long hair in a side part. Now it’s split down the middle, just a touch shorter at the sides, and he’s wearing glasses.

(He’s wearing glasses!)

You’d thought he was pretty before.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” you say, tempted to call him baby, maybe sweetheart. He’s a sweet looking boy. His sweater vest makes you wanna hold his hand. “Thank you for asking. Why are you asking?”

You talk to him with no derision nor malice, just curiosity.

He frowns. It gives his eyes a sad shine. “I know you wanted the open position. You would’ve been great at it.”

“You think so?” you ask, surprised.

“I’ve seen some of your write ups. We’ve used your summaries in one of our profiles, do you… remember that?”

You send Hotch anything he wants to see.

“I don’t know why Gideon doesn’t like you… He’s so rarely wrong about people, but you’re…” He licks his lips nervously. “You’re– you’re smart. You’re inquisitive. I think you would be an asset to the team, and it’s a shame you didn’t get your chance.”

You’re making him nervous and it isn’t your intention. You put your hands in your lap and stop giving him the look, swapping your amicable smile for a proper friendly one. “Thank you. Is it okay if I call you Spencer? Dr. Spencer Reid is a lot to say at once.”

He laughs, still nervous. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Spencer, thank you for caring so much, but I’m okay. I think I might still have a chance one day, but with Elle gone, the sex crimes division is going to need me.” You lift your chin. If he’s sought you out to tell you he’s sorry, your premonitions about him when you met a few weeks ago were correct. He’s as kind as he is pretty. “I love your glasses. Are they for reading?”

“I always wore glasses when I was a kid, and then I started working here, and I thought it might make me seem less… childish, if I wore contacts, but they’re the worst.”

You laugh happily. He says it in such a pained voice. “The glasses suit you so much,” you say, shoving your things into your bag and standing. “Did you wanna go for coffee? I need a pick me up before I go back to the office.”

Spencer touches his wrist. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?” you ask, again, without a drop of malice. You’re not stupid, Spencer has all the nervousness of someone who’s been mistreated before, and heartily, and it’s easy to be soft with him not solely because of it, but because he seems so sweet. You could happily be his friend. “Do you like coffee? We could get those hot donuts from the cafeteria, have you tried those?”

You close the little gap between you both and raise your hand carefully to his face. Gentle, you try to pull a stray hair from the hinge of his glasses leg without snapping it.

“You can tell me all the stuff I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Spencer says.

“Come on, there has to be something.”

His mouth gives him away. “It’s not that you’re doing it wrong, you’re just– you– you’re not looking at things the…” Your fingertip brushes his cheek as you drop your hand. “…Right way, sometimes.”

“I wanted your recommendations.” You bump his elbow with yours. “I’ll buy you a coffee and you can write me a list. Cool?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Cool.”

You’re thinking it’ll be the start of a good friendship. You and Dr. Reid make quite a pair.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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staryuee · 6 months ago

Text

HOW THEY REACT TO YOUR SILENT TREATMENT.

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread … sigh

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . you and your partner are having a “cooling down period”, a time of détente, after a recent argument. how do they deal with the lack of love from you?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, eula, wanderer, ayato, gorou, tartaglia, lyney, wriothesley, neuvillette, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . as a psychology student ☝️🤓 i can safely say that the silent treatment is usually frowned upon due to its connotations with emotional abuse, therefore i tried my best to make it apparent that this sort of silence is within the boundaries of the relationship ( ･᷄ὢ･᷅ ) please communicate with your loved ones if you feel a certain way :)

you and your beloved recently had a pretty bad argument. out of respect for both of your feelings you both decided to have a period of détente to allow a gradual recovery of your emotions and logical reasonings.

there was no need to argue, and there was also no need to be hostile or petty; therefore your silent treatment wasn’t a way to maliciously gain control or make your lover come running back to you, it was a way for both of you to regain composure and come back to the topic when prepared.

that did unfortunately, lead to much less affectionate gestures from both of you. of course there was still the casual “i love you” every morning and night accompanied by a simple kiss, but it never went anything beyond that.

while your lover fully knew why this sort of peaceful coexistence was necessary, sometimes it’s sincerely difficult to not just reach out and kiss you breathless.

you’re so close yet so far, it’s unbearable.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

master diluc has been rather restless lately.

constant muttering to himself, plucking the dried up skin that stuck out from his badly bitten lips, his gloved hands constantly scratching a non existent scratch; honestly, if the fellow residents of dawn winery didn’t know any better they’d think he was possessed and required an immediate exorcist.

adelinde refuses to see her precious baby sink his eyes into ruin purely because he’s out secretly patrolling once he wakes up in the middle of the night to clear his head. you’re always there with him throughout the night: but why does it still feel so empty regardless?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST ?

diluc is no pushover or people pleaser; if you were guilty, then you’re guilty and he’ll wait all the time in the world till you eventually own up and apologise (please let that come sooner or later though otherwise he’ll give into ruin and sip alcohol for a breather). otherwise, if its his fault, or no ones and it was a mere misunderstanding, the silent treatment lasts for a day. not any longer not any less; he doesn’t allow it to.

he’s more than happy to wait forever for you but gods if he ever made a mistake that accidentally led you to elongating this supposed transient silence till the end of time, diluc would much rather swallow his pride and give his all to you. you’re worth more than pettiness, and he’ll prove that to you once you wake up and get greeted with all your favourite luxuries and a bright, relieved smile on his face.

EULA — 优菈

you’re beyond delusion if you think this woman won’t turn this into a healthy-ish competition of sorts.

you wish to avoid her for days on end? she’s already used to the world avoiding her mere gaze, she can withstand the somber feeling of having the one person who’s fully understood her as the complex person she is self-isolating from her for a little while.

never mind, no, she literally can’t. come back to her right now. we have problem right? lets talk about it, isn’t that what you taught her in the first place? what do you mean you need a break and want to clear your head for a while to not hurt her feelings? you think eula of all people cares about something like that?

she’d rather you spit at her than withstand another hour of this mindless nonsense.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

she doesn’t apologise unless she sees whatever caused this perilous argument in the first place truly hurt you and you ended up in tears; otherwise whats the use in pointless words when you can easily hug it out and call it a day?

she lets you apologise under the guise of “if you don’t, my vengeance towards you will be greater than my foes”, but in reality? eula is hardly paying any attention to the words slipping past your lips. all she’s thinking about is how she’ll be able to shake off this uneasy tension that’s somehow been created between you two.

WANDERER — 流浪者

you can’t tell which one of you needed this little breather more, after all, you’d hope scara would allow himself to soften after distancing from you after a while, and scara hoped you’d see reason within your argument and eventually, as always, forgive him.

but forgiveness is a two way straight in the way most people subconsciously ignore; does he and could he ever forgive himself? that image of your teary eyed face, the harsh puffs of breath you heaved to prevent any more molten venom to burn his plastic skin, the slight clenching of your jaw, fuck it hurt.

he couldn’t admit it at the time, but right now after being forcefully peeled away from you for about week and forcing auntie nahida to listen to his venting rambles? he wished he just gave it all up and did something: anything at all. kissed you, hugged you, consoled you, swiped your tears away with his thumbs, fluttered his eyelashes on your cheek gently as he whispered an i love you.

yet all he could do right now was wait.

wait until you hopefully came back, he couldn’t face you. if you abandoned him he’d deal with it. the petals on the floor and the hushed whispers of “they love me, they love me not” are just hallucinations from his worried caregiver, he swears.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

never would he stoop so low as to apologise.

verbally. that is. if he’s aware that he’s in the wrong (believe me that look on your face does wonders for trying to figure out whats on your mind) he’ll begrudgingly come up with some covert way of making it up to you. he doesn’t want to be stuck in this immortalised silence forever; believe me, he likes your talking more than he realises and this little test trial of abandonment was more than enough proof that your existence within his life is essential.

if you’re not there standing by his side, what even is the point in that fraudulent pacemaker of his? your laughter is in the same shape of his heartbeat; if you’re not here, he’s just back to being that dumb little puppet cuddled ashore in the slim darkness of the night.

K. AYATO — 神里绫人

bile builds up in ayato’s throat, eyes threatening to spill hazardous tears on his paperwork. he HATES being away from you. yes, you’ll be back comfortably in his arms with a kiss on your forehead soon…but time isn’t making that “soon” come any quicker and it’s killing him.

‘silence’ is only the act of not speaking, right? so he’s technically allowed to sneak in pastries onto your desk when you’ve gone to take a break — he’s also most certainly allowed to write down his frustrations about not being able to be overly affectionate with you and then pitifully sliding them under your door in hopes you’ll read them and maybe write one back.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

he desperately tries to convince himself that if he works long enough, he’ll forget the hollowing feeling in his heart that’s left in the silhouette of you. he puts down his calligraphy pen with an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples with rough motions as if to completely rid himself of any lingering thought of you.

that’ll never work, and ayato thinks you two have calmed down enough so therefore he trudged his way into your room, knocking of course, and sat down with you for a lengthy but beneficial conversation.

without a doubt, ayato will be the one to apologise first. whether it’s a conscious decision or not completely depends on how long he’s been away from you; at some point you just fall back into regular routine completely by accident.

GOROU — 五郎

he’s glad you’ve decided to take this sort of approach to your relationship instead of having a painful battle of the wits with him but right now, he’d withstand a thousand hours of scolding than the way his fellow soldiers worryingly clutter around their little general and ask about his well-being purely because those furry ears atop his bundle of bed hair decided to stay drooped down all week.

but he can’t help it! he’s utterly miserable! you didn’t even give him your complimentary “good morning, have fun at work, be safe” kiss before he left the door in the static quiet of your abode. to top this torture off? you haven’t pet him once, and while he’d normally revel in not being treated like an actual lap dog…you’re a huge exception in that rule!

unfortunately, it’s not like he can just outright demand attention from you merely because he’s feeling a bit down on his luck. you asked for peace, he’ll give it to you. he’s a war veteran but treats you like a flower thats sprouted on a ruined patch of sand.

ehem, but please come back to him soon. please?

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

whatever it takes to get your pretty hand to ruffle through his brunette locks he’ll do, he doesn’t care if the apology consists of him kneeling down on pitifully shaking his head near your thigh with his lips puckered into a pout. shame doesn’t exist within your relationship right? he’s more than willing to apologise first regardless of who was to blame.

if the argument was a little more serious however, he’ll sit down you on your couch that holds so many sweet significant memories within your mind, his head resting atop your collarbone and tail sneakily swishing from side to side now that your heartbeat was so clear to him. he’ll hear you out, talk through it, but more importantly, love and appreciate you.

TARTAGLIA — 公子

nuh uh. you think you’re getting silence with someone like him around? unless one or both of you fucked up really bad, tartaglia can’t see the point in silent ignorance; if you want to ignore him to personally calm down? sure, do whatever you want honey, you’re still getting treated like the other piece of his heart that you are.

if you’re genuinely annoyed he can leave you alone…for maybe two hours thirty minutes max. he loves you so much, talk to him, he doesn’t care if you insult him out of anger, lash out at him if you must. so long as you return into his arms so he can sway you around within his tender embrace and pepper your face with kisses, he’ll be more than happy and satisfied.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

him all day — call it the big brother complex with having to always apologise first whenever he got into a slight squabble or disagreement with his siblings when he were younger, or call it pure unadulterated love for you and the refusal to continue with this pointless staring battles whenever you guys were sitting across from each other.

whatever it is, just know he takes your feelings seriously regardless of the teasing grin across his face when you try not to squirm from the way his hand traveled from across your waist to the slither of exposed stomach. he just wants to assure you that his love won’t ever fade even if it becomes so deliberately one sided. he’s yours, after all.

LYNEY — 林尼

he’s used to eerie silence that bellowed icy winds against his ears, used to the tension that forced out his fight or flight response, but currently all he could do was freeze and overthink. how come this silence seemed so much more deafening than usual?

lyney doesn’t want this worse than capital punishment torture to continue without at least the slightest bit of laughter mingled into both of your days; he tries his best to curve your lips to even the slightest twenty degree lift using whatever he could. silly little flower reappearing trick there, a sneaky kiss to the side of your neck here; just any fleeting desperate attempt for some reciprocation on your part.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

lyney’s used to apologising first given his experiences within the house of hearth and the father herself. so imagine his surprise when you both incidentally stammer over one another as you two splutter apologies helplessly. god he’s so happy your relationship is built open gushes of giggles instead of the splats of tears because if it weren’t for that cute little accident? lyney was sure the second you opened your lovely lips to speak he would’ve teared up.

he missed that voice telling him constant i love yous, the affectionate cradling of his face against your neck and the way you wouldn’t hesitate to hold his flushed face within your cooling hands to comfort him after a particularly stress inducing performance.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

you left the conversation with an “i love you.” so he knows that you’ll come back to him.

however, the last time he blindly trusted the comforting words of a loved one, it ended with blood on his hands and a lengthy sentence at the fortress of meropide. luckily for his heart and your own, he knows your charms and honeyed words aren’t for show and truly mean something.

wriothesley respects your boundaries and wishes to the t, he won’t speak to you like nothing at all happened but that doesn’t mean he won’t be overly cautious when it comes to your behavioural patterns. if he notices this sentence of silence is clearly taking its toll on you, he will, with no hesitation, talk everything out with you.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

depending on the argument, he’ll apologise first. if it’s rather undeniable that you were the one in the wrong however, he’ll explain his feelings thoroughly until you apologise — the standard. he doesn’t want this silence to end till the fortress of meropide overflows with primordial water so once you see multiple guards on your case more than ever, just know he’d like to talk to you.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

fontaine has been drenched in rain for the past couple of days. every hour, every minute, every second neuvillette spends alone in his office makes him realise just how grand and solemn it is. everything is so mundane and banal…even the cheerful mutters and chatters of the sweet melusines couldn’t bring a smile to his face — much to the dismay of the little sigewinne who even so kindly brought him a cake to cheer him up…

what makes it even worse is that everything reminds him of you…and oh god the muddied clouds have once again been cursed with rain. this unquenchable thirst for your presence cannot be ignored by a mere sip from his intricate cup and being the ever so carefully mindful iudex, neuvillette sees it more than fit to call this hopeless game of silence to quits.

WHO APOLOGISES FIRST?

regardless of who’s in the wrong, neuvillette apologises first. he’s sorry for letting this go so far, he should’ve just trusted his gut and returned to your side even if it meant having to persuade you with his clever tongue or the coiling of his draconic tail around your leg to pull you sweetly closer.

honestly, if he could, he’d make this a punishment in the fortress of meropide for every couple. you committed a petty, technically non offensive crime? well instead of doing some charity work for the city, you’re not allowed by the side of your beloved for a few weeks.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

a bunny within the jaws of a spring locked beast thinking it can persuade the tides in their favour with silence? arlecchino is amused you’d think such cheap tomfoolery would work to solve through your problems.

“darling, come here,” she taps her lap with her blood-stained nail, her eyes looking up at you greedily to soak up every single jitter of your movements as you alas fall onto your rightful throne, “my dumb bunny,” arlecchino coos at you with that devilishly low hum of her voice. “do you think the phrases ignorance is bliss, distance brings fondness, truly work within our relationship?”

arlecchino painfully grasps at your waist, that grip only loosening once you comfortably situate yourself on her thighs and lace your arms around her neck per routine. “i’d expect this behaviour from my children at the house of hearth, not you, angel.” she nibbles on your earlobe deliberately, forcing your lips to part just the way she likes. that perfect look of both surprise and desire; it’s a gorgeous display of your vulnerability.

“explain to me your problems, or else we can be at this forever.”

no such thing as the silent treatment when the very epitome of a wordless shadow has betrothed you.

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pucksandpower · 6 months ago

Text

Hands On

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: celebrations after Lando’s first win get a bit hands on after he notices your obsession with a certain body part

Warnings: 18+ content

Based on this request

The pounding bass rumbles through the Miami club as Lando pulls you close, his arm snaked around your waist. The dim lights cast his face in chiseled shadows as he lets out a whoop of joy.

“We did it!” He yells over the music, eyes bright with elation. “My first bloody win!”

You beam up at him, heart swelling with pride. “I knew you could do it.” Standing on your tiptoes, you plant a lingering kiss on his lips, tasting the tang of celebratory champagne.

Lando grins against your mouth before reluctantly pulling back. “Let’s get a drink to toast, yeah?”

Nodding vigorously, you allow him to lead you through the crowd to the bar. Lando orders some lurid cocktails that probably cost more than an average person’s weekly grocery budget. You don’t care — tonight is for indulging.

As he hands you a glass, his calloused fingers brush yours, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You quickly look away, hoping he didn’t notice. But of course he did.

“Alright there, love?” Lando asks with an amused quirk of his brow.

You force a laugh. “Just, uh … got a chill, that’s all.”

“Mmhmm.” He gives you a look that says he’s not buying it, but allows the subject to drop for now.

The two of you migrate to a plush VIP area, sinking into the soft leather couches. Lando slings an arm around your shoulders and you snuggle into his side, basking in his warmth and earthy scent.

God, you’re so proud of him.

“To us,” Lando murmurs, clinking his glass against yours. “And many more race wins to come.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You take a sip of the violently purple concoction. It tastes like alcoholic cough syrup but you don’t care.

As the alcohol works its magic, you feel yourself relaxing further into Lando’s embrace. Your eyes trace the strong line of his jaw, the delicious smattering of faint freckles, those gloriously long lashes ...

Your gaze catches on his free hand resting on the arm of the couch. You find yourself fixating on those slender fingers, the calluses from years of clutching the steering wheel ...

“Y/N?”

You start, blinking rapidly as Lando’s voice pulls you from your trance. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“You’re staring again.” His lips quirk in that devilishly handsome half-smile.

Flushing hotly, you look anywhere but at him. Or more specifically, his hands. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you absolutely are.” Lando chuckles, low and teasing. “Go on then, what’s so fascinating?”

You squirm uncomfortably, feeling your face heat up even more. How to put this delicately ...

Apparently catching onto your distraction, Lando sits up straighter, settling his drink on the table with a muffled thunk. “Actually, don’t bother answering that. I think I know.”

Before you can protest, he reaches out to gently grasp your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb strokes your flushed cheek as those clever eyes bore into yours, equal parts amused and intense.

“It’s my hands, isn’t it?” Lando murmurs, voice dropping to a low rumble that has your heart tripping in your chest. “You can’t stop staring at my hands.”

You open your mouth to deny it, but Lando’s penetrating stare has you frozen, the words sticking in your throat. Slowly, you give a tiny nod.

Lando hums in acknowledgement, the pad of his thumb still caressing your skin in a maddeningly distracting way. “They are rather nice hands, to be fair. Years of keeping a firm grip, you know?” He winks at you roguishly.

You make a small, strangled sound in the back of your throat. Goddamn him and his innuendos.

“Would you ...” Lando pauses for dramatic effect, gaze dropping to your parted lips briefly. “Like a closer look?”

Every rational neuron in your brain screams at you to say no, this is too far, you’re in public, oh god. But your desire-muddled mind doesn’t seem to be receiving those signals. Instead, you give another mute nod, feeling yourself leaning the slightest bit closer.

“Yeah?” Lando’s voice is barely more than a gravelly rumble now. “You want my hands on you, don’t you?”

You make a tiny whimpering sound of assent, mouth suddenly bone dry. Your eyes drop of their own accord to those wicked fingers, still cupping your jaw so tenderly.

Lando lets out a quiet chuckle, deliciously sinful. “How bad do you want it, baby?”

Squeezing your thighs together self-consciously, you manage a strangled, “S-So bad ...”

“Good girl.” The praise has you melting into a puddle right there on the couch.

Then, in one torturously slow movement, Lando lowers his hand from your face … trails his knuckles down the column of your neck … over the swell of your chest … all the way to the hem of your skimpy dress. He hooks a finger under the silky material, drawing it up your bare thigh with agonizing leisure.

You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation of his rough skin on your flushed flesh. Your eyelids flutter shut, every nerve ending thrumming with exquisite tension.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap back open at Lando’s commanding tone. He gazes back, brows raised in silent challenge. You force yourself to hold his searing gaze as his hand maps lazy circles on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Good girl,” he praises again, the words liquid sin. “Nice and relaxed for me.”

Despite the burning awareness of being in a public place, you feel yourself subconsciously parting your thighs ever-so-slightly, allowing those talented fingers higher access. Heat pools between your legs, your rapid pulse thrumming double-time.

“God, you’re so wet for me already,” Lando husks in approval. “I fucking love how worked up my hands get you.”

As those dexterous digits tease feather-light strokes over your quickly dampening underwear, you have to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stifle a whimper of shameless need. Every touch from him sets your body alight with feverish want.

“Shhh, inside voice, darling,” he chides quietly, humor dancing in those multicolored eyes. “Don’t want to cause a scene, do we?”

You rapidly shake your head, wholeheartedly agreeing. The last thing you need is for someone to wander over here and catch you being debauched by your boyfriend in a public place.

The thought should probably mortify you more than it does.

Lando gives you a crooked grin, like he can read your deliciously filthy thoughts. “Good girl,” he praises again, rewarding you with another teasing caress between your legs.

You suck in a shuddering breath, spine arching ever-so-slightly as Lando’s sinful fingers work their magic through the damp fabric. He knows every spot that drives you crazy, rubbing and stroking with perfect pressure until your inner muscles quiver with delirious need.

“You’re dripping for me, love,” he murmurs in a thick rumble. “Been thinking about my hands on you all night, haven’t you?”

No use denying it anymore — not with the embarrassingly loud squelches coming from between your shamelessly parted thighs. You give another frantic nod.

Lando makes a tutting sound. “Use your words.”

“Y-Yes,” you force out in a ragged whisper. Already, your breaths are coming faster, the molten coil in your core winding tighter and tighter with every deft stroke. “God, Lando, please ...”

“Since you asked so nicely ...” With those words, he slips one long finger under the sodden lace, finally making direct skin-to-skin contact with your aching heat.

You choke back a moan as he delves into your dripping folds, crooking his finger to find that spot that makes you see stars. Alternating between tight circles and firm strokes, Lando works that magic digit at an agonizingly slow pace. Your hips lift shamelessly into his touch, desperate for more friction.

“So greedy,” he chides with a dark chuckle. But he acquiesces, slipping in a second finger to join the first.

You have to clamp your lips shut to muffle the broken keen that tries to escape. The stretch and burn as he scissors you open is pure bliss. Your inner walls flutter greedily around the delicious intrusion.

“Like that, baby?” Lando’s hot breath ghosts your cheek as he leans in close. “You feel so fucking good stretched around my fingers.”

You nod frantically, nails digging into the buttery leather as he starts pumping those wicked digits in a steady rhythm. Each slick thrust has your whole body tensing and the knot in your core winding ever tighter.

“You take me so well,” he praises in a hoarse rasp. “Always so tight and perfect around my cock too. Can’t wait to be buried in that sweet little pussy later.”

A broken whine escapes you at the filthy promise. Your thighs are trembling now, pleasure spiking through your veins with every curl and drag of those talented fingers. You’re quickly spiraling higher, that euphoric edge looming tantalizingly close ...

Lando’s free hand drifts up to toy with the strap of your dress, tugging it down to bare one straining nipple to the heated air of the club. He leans in to lave his tongue over the tender peak and you practically convulse in his lap. Too much, too good, you’re going to combust-

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he rumbles against your damp skin. “Let go.”

The low, commanding growl is your undoing. With a strangled cry, you shatter apart on his fingers, back arching as the pleasure crashes over you in relentless waves. It whites out your vision, every nerve ending set alight in blinding ecstasy.

You come back to reality cradled in Lando’s arms, his lips brushing reverent kisses over your damp hairline. As the pulses gradually subside, you slump bonelessly against his chest, thoroughly spent.

“That’s my good girl,” Lando murmurs, rich voice laced with smug satisfaction. He slowly retracts his drenched fingers with one final curl that has your body giving a languid shudder.

A blissed-out hum is all the response you can muster right now. Your eyelids are heavy, head swimming in that delicious post-orgasmic haze. Lando chuckles softly, tightening his embrace as he drops another kiss to your brow.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me yet, yeah? The night’s still young, love. Got plenty more celebrations planned for you ...”

***

The door to the lavish hotel suite bursts open with a bang as Lando practically shoves you through the entrance. You stumble slightly on your high heels, drunk on anticipation and champagne fumes. Before you can regain your balance, his strong hands are on you, spinning you around to pin your back against the nearest wall.

“Been wanting to get my hands on you all night,” Lando growls against the sensitive skin just below your ear.

You shiver at the rumbling timbre of his voice, already growing hazy with rekindled desire. “Y-You already did at the club ...”

He rewards your cheek with a teasing graze of teeth. “And you were such a good girl, taking my fingers so nicely in front of everyone.” His hips grind against yours, allowing you to feel every rigid inch of his arousal. “But now I want more. Need to be inside you properly.”

A broken whimper escapes your parted lips as Lando’s hands roam greedily over your body. You arch shamelessly into his possessive grip, craving his burning touch everywhere at once.

“Arms up,” he commands in a gravelly murmur.

You immediately comply, and he wastes no time in dragging your skimpy dress up over your head, leaving you in just a flimsy scrap of lace. His heated gaze rakes over every newly exposed inch of bare skin with undisguised hunger.

“God, look at you ...” Lando exhales a harsh curse through gritted teeth. “I swear you get more gorgeous every bloody day.”

Face flushing beneath his scorching appraisal, you resist the urge to cover yourself with your arms. You know he prefers an unobstructed view.

“Turn around,” he orders in a voice that brokers no argument. “Hands on the wall.”

You spin obediently, biting back a needy whimper as your breasts brush the cool surface. The room suddenly feels several degrees warmer from the blazing anticipation alone.

There’s a pause where you can practically sense Lando’s eyes devouring the lines and curves of your body. You fight the urge to squirm beneath his piercing scrutiny. Then his callused hands are on your hips, squeezing with delicious possessiveness as he steps in to blanket your back with his solid heat.

“Already so wet for me,” Lando observes in a rough purr, dragging your lace underwear aside to reveal your slick folds. “Seem to recall you liking a taste of your own medicine at the club, hmm?”

The tip of his index finger glides through your arousal in one torturously slow pass, gathering the evidence of your desire onto his skin. Before you can so much as draw a shaky breath, he brings that glistening digit to hover just in front of your parted lips.

“Open up, love.”

You moan softly in anticipation, obeying without hesitation. The instant his finger slides into your mouth, your eyes flutter shut in wanton bliss. Your tongue swirls around the thick digit, hungrily lapping up every last trace of your own tangy essence.

“That’s it, nice and sloppy,” Lando praises in a low, heated rumble. “Show me how much you love the way you taste on my fingers.”

Spurred on by his heated words, you begin sucking in earnest, hollowing your cheeks with shameless enthusiasm. The slick sounds of your efforts fill the air, the wet noises doing absolutely nothing to quell the rising tide of arousal between your legs.

Behind you, Lando exhales a harsh curse. “Fuck … so bloody good at that. Should’ve known you’d look perfect with my fingers in your greedy little mouth.”

A fresh gush of arousal floods your center at his filthy words of approval. You can’t help the desperate whine that vibrates around his digit as you increase your pace, desperate to drive him as crazy as he’s driving you.

“Alright, enough teasing now.” There’s the sound of a zipper rasping, then suddenly Lando’s other hand is shoving yours away from the wall and around to grasp his newly freed erection.

You moan again, shocked but overwhelmingly aroused by his boldness. He pumps his length slow and purposeful, engulfing your smaller hand with his larger one to set a languid but firm pace.

“Good girl, that’s it ...” he rasps out harshly. “Wanna feel how hard you’ve got me, baby? Aching to be inside your perfect cunt ...”

At his filthy words, your core pulses with a fresh rush of molten want. You can feel the fat head of his shaft nudging demandingly against the crease of your thigh, leaving smears of pearly fluid on your heated skin.

Before you can fully process what’s happening, Lando spins you back around to face him. His eyes are blazing with dark, predatory hunger as he swiftly sheds the rest of your flimsy underwear. Then he’s hauling you up by the backs of your thighs, pinning you against the wall with his hips nestled firmly against your aching core.

“Tell me what you want,” he rumbles in a tone of deliciously wicked authority. The thick head of his erection drags through your slick folds in one maddening tease after another.

You whine high in your throat, scrabbling at his broad shoulders for purchase. “P-Please, Lando! Need you inside me ...”

“Need me to what?” He tilts his hips in a slow, torturous grind, spreading your arousal in a slick glaze. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Fuckmefuckmefuckme ...” The desperate mantra spills shamelessly from your lips as you try to pull him closer.

Lando rewards your begging with a wolfish grin. “As you wish.”

And with one slick thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, stretching and filling you in the most exquisite way. Twin groans echo through the suite — his a guttural growl, yours a high-pitched mewl of relief.

There’s an endless moment where you both simply still, savoring the friction of being so intimately joined. Lando’s forehead drops to your shoulder, the pair of you panting harshly against one another’s sweat-slicked skin.

Then he starts to move.

It starts with a slow roll of his hips, languid but purposeful strokes that drag his length through every last velvet inch before pulling nearly all the way out. You clutch desperately at the carved muscles of his back as he sets a relentless pace, each powerful thrust punching the air from your lungs.

“So tight ...” he grits out in a gravelly burr. “Taking me so deep, god, you feel incredible...”

You can only whimper helplessly in response, overwhelmed by the feeling. Every nerve is alight with shuddering bliss.

Soon Lando’s lazy rhythm devolves into harsh, pounding strokes, the harsh clap of flesh on flesh echoing like thunder. The solid wall at your back provides delicious traction as your boyfriend jackhammers up into your fluttering heat with rapidly mounting frenzy.

“Yes … yesyesyes!” The breathless affirmations tear from your lips in sync with each punishing slap of his hips.

“Can hear how much you love this, getting pounded against the wall like a desperate little thing,” Lando rumbles with dark approval. “Am I hitting all those perfect spots, baby? Making that greedy cunt squeeze me so damn tight?”

“So close, so close!” You chant in a high, thready whine. Your release is rapidly building, that glorious crest just out of reach.

As if sensing your desperation, Lando shifts his grip so one hand can snake between your bodies. His clever fingers instantly find the swollen bundle of nerves at your apex and start working tight, purposeful circles with just the right amount of pressure.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god ...” The frantic mantra punches from your lungs in time with his feral thrusts. You can feel yourself teetering right at that blissful precipice, every nerve pulled tourniquet-tight with impending release.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Lando coaxes in a rough growl. “Let go for me. Wanna feel you come all over my cock ...”

His filthy words are your undoing. With a sobbing cry, your vision whites out in a supernova of shattering ecstasy. Pleasure rockets through your veins in pulsing waves, every muscle locked in the most beautiful torment. Vaguely, you feel Lando snarling curses against the fevered skin of your neck as your convulsing walls grip him in scorching velvet vice.

When your senses finally begin drifting back to you, Lando is peppering your sweat-dampened face with gentle kisses. He brushes the mussed hair from your brow tenderly, eyes brimming with naked adoration.

“So perfect for me,” he murmurs in hushed reverence. “Every bloody time. Fuck, I love watching you fall apart.”

You manage a weak, boneless smile at the affectionate praise, still riding the afterglow. You feel deliciously hollowed out, pleasantly achy in all the right places. Like every muscle has turned to warm honey.

After another moment, Lando carefully lowers your trembling legs until your wobbly knees find purchase on the plush carpeting. He frames your face with those gloriously rough hands, calluses catching on the flush of your cheeks.

“That good for you, love?” He asks with a hint of gentle teasing.

“Mhmm ...” You nod drowsily, leaning into his solid palm. “S’always good with you.”

Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to power every chandelier in the lavish suite.

***

“Baby, where are you? I’m home!”

Lando’s voice rings out as the door to your shared flat opens with a muffled snick. You pause your lounging on the couch, book falling forgotten to your lap as he steps inside, hauling a discreet black bag.

“In here!” You call out with a smile, already tingling with curiosity.

He appears in the doorway, flashing you that signature crooked grin that always has your insides melting. “There’s my gorgeous girl. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

You sit up a little straighter, intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Rather than answer, Lando moves to the couch and deposits the bag between you two with a heavy thunk. Your brows shoot up quizzically.

“Well someone’s being mysterious,” you tease, giving the matte exterior an experimental prod. “What’s in this, Mister Norris?”

“Why don’t you open it and find out?” There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as he gestures towards the zipper pull.

Fighting a grin, you obligingly grasp the metal tab and pull, allowing the discreet covering to gape open. The first thing you register is a tangle of padded straps and buckles in sleek black leather. Then your eyes catch on the protruding shape nestled securely in the center … and you promptly choke on your own tongue.

It’s a hand. Or rather, a perfectly molded silicone model of one — every crease and callus captured in lifelike detail down to each delicate whorling fingerprint.

A whimper catches in your throat as realization slams into you with dizzying force. This hand … this hand with those long, talented fingers you’ve fantasized about more times than you can count … this hand is modeled after Lando’s.

“Oh my god ...” The words slip out in a strangled exhale. “Lando, is this ...”

His expression is carefully neutral, but the fiery glint in his eyes gives away his smug satisfaction. “You’re always going on about how much you love my hands. Figured you deserve to have the full experience whenever you want it, love.”

“I ...” Words temporarily fail you as you lift the shockingly realistic appendage free of its padded enclosure. The weight and articulation is uncanny, from the subtle flare of knuckles to the blunt tips of each digit. It’s almost unsettling how realistic it is.

You glance up to find Lando observing you with dark, hooded interest. His tongue darts out to wet his lips in a reflexive tell of arousal.

“What do you think?” He asks in a low, rough murmur. “Want to take it for a test drive?”

Heat lances straight to your core at the blatant suggestion. You reflexively squeeze the silicone digits in your grip, reveling in the slinky give and firm resistance. Already you can vividly imagine those fingers pumping into your dripping heat, stretching and stroking with that same delicious friction you’ve come to crave ...

“Y/N?” Lando’s voice pulls you from your lust-hazed daze. His eyes are blazing now, pupils blown wide. “Need you to use your words, sweetheart ...”

You make a small, needy sound as your thighs instinctively shift in subtle search of friction. “Yes … yes, I want to try it. Please ...”

That’s all the encouragement he seems to need. In the span of a heartbeat, Lando is divesting you of your thin cotton shorts and guiding your legs apart to settle between them on the couch. The hand rests heavy and solid in his palm as he holds it aloft, allowing you an unobstructed view.

You bite your lip against a whimper, already flushing with a heady cocktail of arousal and shameless anticipation. Lando’s lashes dip to half-mast as he brings the sculpted digits to his lips and lays a reverent kiss to each knuckle.

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he rumbles in that low, raspy tone that never fails to have you melting. And then, with agonizing leisure, he trails the smooth pads down your chest … over the soft swell of your stomach … through the damp thatch of curls at your apex ...

A gasp punches from your lungs at the first glancing stroke against your folds. This may be an inanimate object, but its perfected shape coupled with Lando’s practiced touch feels so exquisitely familiar. Like the real thing is finally breaching that aching place inside you ...

“Bloody hell, you’re already dripping,” Lando observes in a rough growl. The flexed digits slide through your arousal in one slick pass, gathering your essence onto the sleek silicone. “Is this what you were thinking about, love? Having my fingers buried knuckle-deep in that greedy little cunt?”

You can only whimper and nod frantically as he draws tantalizingly close again. That unhurried brush of solid firmness against your most sensitive flesh already has your inner muscles fluttering desperately.

“Tell me what you want,” Lando rumbles in a tone of smoldering command. Those clever fingers circle your aching entrance, spreading your slick arousal in a torturous tease.

“T-The hand,” you stammer out in a pitchy whine. “Lando, please ... I need it i-inside me ...”

A wolfish grin curves his lips as he rewards your obedience with a searing kiss. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are blazing with liquid smoke.

“As you wish.”

Then Lando is tipping the toy at just the right angle to catch on your swollen entrance. With one smooth, purposeful thrust, he sheaths every last inch to the knuckle root inside your clenching heat.

The fullness is glorious, that solid silicone bulk stretching you wide in the most delicious way. Every delicate ridge and contour drags against your velvet walls with maddening friction with the slightest movement.

“Fuck ...” Lando practically snarls the curse through gritted teeth as he begins pumping the toy in a slow, purposeful rhythm. “So goddamn hot seeing you grip it like this, baby … squeezing so perfectly tight.”

You can only whimper helplessly in response, overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation. With each careful stroke, Lando angles the silicone fingers to create a firm nudge against that spongy cluster of nerves. Jolts of electricity hoot up your spine until you’re shuddering and whimpering.

“There you are ...” Lando’s voice is a rumbling growl of smug satisfaction as he locates that magic spot. “Squirming like a desperate little thing on my hand.”

To punctuate his words, he rotates his wrist with a purposeful flex of hard knuckles against your tender front wall. The exquisite pressure has your hips jerking upward in a helpless spasm, eyes flying open to lock gazes with your wickedly grinning boyfriend.

“Like that, do you?” He husks, lips brushing your cheek. “Never seen you make noises like this before. So hungry for my fingers buried deep...”

As if to emphasize the slick sounds already filling the air, Lando picks up the tempo of his thrusts in rapid, punishing strokes. The squelches are more erotic than anything you’ve ever heard as he rails you open on that delightfully thick silicone.

“Oh god, oh g-god ...” The desperate mantra spills shamelessly from your lips as white sparks begin bursting across your vision.

“Let it happen, baby,” he coaxes. “Need to see those gorgeous walls fluttering when you come ...”

With a startled cry, your spine bows off the cushions as your long-awaited climax finally detonates. Searing pleasure lances through every nerve ending in tsunami waves. You’re vaguely aware of choking out Lando’s name over and over in a breathless keen, your inner muscles flexing uselessly around the thick silicone toy.

When you finally drift back down, it’s to the feeling of damp hair being brushed from your brow. You blink blearily to find Lando gazing down at you with naked awe and unguarded adoration.

“You’re a vision like this,” he murmurs reverently. The hand-shaped toy is finally, carefully extracted with a slick sucking sound that has you flushing. “So beautifully ruined all because of my hand ...”

In a tender gesture, Lando cradles the back of your skull and brings the glistening silicone digits to your parted lips. The clean, musky tang of your own arousal coats every contour.

“Clean it up, love,” he commands. “Know how much you love the taste ...”

You moan faintly at the filthy demand, feeling a fresh slick of heat pooling between your legs. But there’s no way you can deny him this or yourself the heady intimacy of such an act. So with hooded lashes, you obediently part your lips and take those thick fingers onto your awaiting tongue.

Lando’s low groan of approval vibrates through your very bones as you seal your lips in a tight ‘O’ and suck with wanton fervor. The harsh breaths punching from his lungs spur you on, swirling your tongue over every crease and imprint hungrily.

“So fuckiny gorgeous,” he grits out in a tone of strained reverence. “You have no idea the effect you have on me, do you?”

As if to emphasize his words, Lando shifts position — and you suddenly become aware of the painfully rigid line of his erection pressing against your hip. With a needy whine, you instinctively grind up against that hot, insistent length through the thin barrier of his athletic shorts.

Your boyfriend’s lashes flutter as he bites back a growl. “Easy there, minx. You’re going to get me inside you soon enough.” He nips sharply at the bolt of your jaw, silicone fingers still working your slack mouth in shallow thrusts. “But first I want to watch you come apart on the real thing one more time ...”

A full-bodied shudder races through you at the dark promise underlining his words. With a pitchy sound of submission, you allow your heavy eyelids to slip shut and your jaw to unhinge obediently around the thoroughly used toy.

Every expert curl and flick of those clever digits is centered on the singular goal of dismantling you again. You’re powerless to resist, simply allowing the heady l sensations to crest higher and higher. Lando’s hoarse rumbles of encouragement cradle you, pushing you higher until you finally shatter into sublime oblivion once more.

And fuck, you love it when Lando’s hands on.

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