#last night was easily one of the best of my life I fucking love this city

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them

Lucifer

*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*

If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.

But only if he doesn't need it.

Mammon

"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."

Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.

You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.

Leviathan

"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)

He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!

Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?

After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*

AAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Satan

"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"

Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.

Asmodeus

"Aww, aren't you adorable?"

This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.

Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.

Beelzebub

"Oh."

He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.

But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.

Belphegor

"...zzzz..."

Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...

Diavolo

"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."

It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.

He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.

Barbatos

"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."

He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.

Sleep well, human.

Solomon

"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"

Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.

Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.

Simeon

"Oh- shh. There, there."

Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.

Luke

"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"

How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.

[shadesoflsk]

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day. 

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance. 

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day. 

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came. 

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever. 

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception. 

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him. 

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was. 

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch. 

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you? 

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. 

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was. 

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?” 

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it. 

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty. 

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?” 

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far. 

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!” 

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s. 

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

-

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water. 

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants. 

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks. 

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have. 

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body. 

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love. 

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body. 

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for. 

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you. 

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already. 

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul. 

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper. 

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you. 

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release. 

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling. 

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment. 

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control. 

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection. 

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy. 

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air. 

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you. 

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly. 

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know. 

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra. 

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy. 

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you. 

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.” 

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb. 

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body. 

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to. 

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest.  “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.” 

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you. 

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste. 

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs. 

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach. 

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle. 

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles. 

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright. 

“More than okay.” 

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

[sinofwriting]

Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)

Masterlist | Support Me!

At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.

Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.

It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.

—

Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.

“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.

“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.

Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.

“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”

—

“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.

“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”

“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.

Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.

Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.

“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.

“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.

“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”

Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.

“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.

@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67

[thecapricunt1616]

Orchid - (c.b. one-shot)

𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓻𝓫 (𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “How many girlfriends did you have when you were gone?” You asked. His fingers stopped momentarily, before continuing “What is considered a girlfriend?” He asked, causing you to giggle and shake your head a bit in amusement. Carmy, ever the emotionally unintelligent.  “A girl, who you really like, that you hang out with a lot and go on dates with and like…have sex with” you said the last part a tad shy. You felt his chest rumble in a chuckle behind you and your head snaps to the side to look at him “why are you laughing!?” You asked and he shrugged a bit, twirling the ends of your curls around his fingers  “None- but I did have a few one night stands when it came about. Why? We havin’ a competition?” He teased. You felt your cheeks get hot and you shook your head, laughing a bit  “I’d lose every time. I’ve never done anything. Well- we kiss. Like- now. But I’ve only been on a few dates but like…the other night on your couch you’re the only person I’ve done that kissing with.. that’s the most intense thing I’ve done like - ever - my…y’know was like really…” you blushed  Really, really fucking wet.  Carmen’s heart begins to race in his chest oh. Oh-  You’d meant earlier in the week, after 2 glasses of wine, you told Carmen he was ‘pretty when he smokes even though you hate it cause it’s bad for his lungs’ and that ended up in a kiss that turned sloppy, then it turned in to two kisses, then three- then it ended up being an entire make out session where you were pathetically squirming and rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction.  He vividly remembered it, he didn’t know you were a fucking virgin. Fuck. This information was going to ruin him.  “So you- you’ve never made out with someone and fuckin’ humped their leg like that before?” He teased boldly, causing you to gasp and hit his bicep playfully.  “Carmy! Humped your leg?! What am I- a dog?” You laughed and he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, easily pinning you to the couch and holding your arms veheath you with little effort and one arm.  “Mm-‘mmm- like a cat in heat, you’re like a little horny kitten” he said huskily in your ear and chuckled when you squirmed finally letting go and you sat up, flustered and incredibly turned on, but still too stubborn to let him know he had such control over you.  “Stop it. Not fair you have all these girls running you down. Do French girls really walk around topless?” You asked and he laughed shaking his head  “I’d have stayed in France if I got to look out my window and see tits all day. No they do not, but the nude beach thing is real. I just didn’t go because you kinda have to participate” he chuckles and you laughed imagining him trying to hide a boner at a beach.  “So your one night stands…what is it like? Sex?”  He was going to go fucking insane.

♡ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨: In the spiritual world, orchids can symbolize the search for truth, the ability to appreciate life's beauty, and the courage to be different. They can also evoke a sense of tranquility and inner peace, and In Irish culture, orchids can symbolize beauty, luxury, honor, dignity, and spiritual grace. ♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Carmy is your childhood best friend, after he comes home & opens 'The Bear' you both realize you may have been hiding mutual feelings for eachother. ♡ 𝐖/𝐂: 10.1k+ (of mostly smut) ♡ 𝐀/𝐍: Hello all! Firstly this is DC to my AMAZING, SMART, WONDERFUL, BEAUTIFUL FRIEND @carmenberzattosgf ohhh Olive, this is the first time i'm writing you one of my proper novellas & I hope it is a lovely treat after all of your hard work after your test! This is a slight Self Insert for miss Olive, but can still be read as an x reader fic! I truly am proud of this smut & hope you love it Olive!!! 'olive'you to the moon and to saturn hehehe xoxoxo - Capri ♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐓𝐂:SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT, Childhood best friend trope, no use of y/n, r is called pet names like kitten, bunny, squish, size kink, squirting, overstim, dom!carmy, unprotected sex, p in v sex, AFAB reader, virgin!reader, corruption kink Carmy, aftercare, not edited (we die like bears. Pretend it’s perfect, ok?!)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You and Carmy had known each other for quite a few years. You were one grade below him, and in middle school, you became close. Every student was forced to join a club for some stupid reason, and you chose ‘reading club’.

To be expected, When you walked in, it was just a room where kids sat for an hour every Monday, Wednesday, and  Friday last period and read books silently. Carmy was sat in the back corner desk reading a Deadpool Vol. 2 comic book, so you plopped in the desk next to him and took out out a The Walking Dead comic. 

He looked a bit surprised, at first, but after 2 weeks of this he cleared his throat and nodded towards your comic

“Those uh…those any good?” He asked. His voice was soft, a bit higher than other guys in his grade. Your friendship blossomed from there, and all the way through high school. 

After he graduated, though, and left you for your senior year- he ended up drifting apart from you. You weren’t sure if it was because you were busy with school during the day or what- but he stopped calling as often. 

After Mikey died, though, and he came back to Chicago - naturally he leaned on you once again for support since you were one of his closest friends growing up. So over the past year, you two had once again became two peas in a pod. 

You helped with the restaurant renovations when he needed, also made sure to be a shoulder to cry on for him. He appreciated you more than you knew, and was surprised when he came back after all of this time and you were even more beautiful then when he left - if that was even possible at all. He had a crush on you when you were younger, but had so much anxiety that he thought he’d be labeled a perv or a weirdo if he was known to date a girl younger than him. 

Today you were sat on his couch, watching some cheesy Halloween Disney movie that you had insisted on watching because you couldn’t stand horror movies yet ‘still wanted to feel the fall spirit bear!’ To which he groaned and said it was still only the end of August. 

You were comfortably sat between his legs on his old couch you’d asked a million times why he hadn’t gotten rid of as he carefully thread his fingers through your hair. Suddenly, a question started bouncing around your mind that you realized you’d never asked the question to. 

You hadn’t really asked Carmy much about his time away from Chicago, you’d figured that if he was so desperate to leave home and didn’t even tell you there had to be a reason why, so even touching the topic seemed strange feeling to you. But you asked anyways

“How many girlfriends did you have when you were gone?” You asked. His fingers stopped momentarily, before continuing

“What is considered a girlfriend?” He asked, causing you to giggle and shake your head a bit in amusement. Carmy, ever the emotionally unintelligent. 

“A girl, who you really like, that you hang out with a lot and go on dates with and like…have sex with” you said the last part a tad shy. You felt his chest rumble in a chuckle behind you and your head snaps to the side to look at him “why are you laughing!?” You asked and he shrugged a bit, twirling the ends of your curls around his fingers 

“None- but I did have a few one night stands when it came about. Why? We havin’ a competition?” He teased. You felt your cheeks get hot and you shook your head, laughing a bit 

“I’d lose every time. I’ve never done anything. Well- we kiss. Like- now. But I’ve only been on a few dates but like…the other night on your couch you’re the only person I’ve done that kissing with.. that’s the most intense thing I’ve done like - ever - my…y’know was like really…” you blushed 

Really, really fucking wet. 

Carmen’s heart begins to race in his chest oh. Oh- 

You’d meant earlier in the week, after 2 glasses of wine, you told Carmen he was ‘pretty when he smokes even though you hate it cause it’s bad for his lungs’ and that ended up in a kiss that turned sloppy, then it turned in to two kisses, then three- then it ended up being an entire make out session where you were pathetically squirming and rubbing your thighs together to get some kind of friction. 

He vividly remembered it, he didn’t know you were a fucking virgin. Fuck. This information was going to ruin him. 

“So you- you’ve never made out with someone and fuckin’ humped their leg like that before?” He teased boldly, causing you to gasp and hit his bicep playfully. 

“Carmy! Humped your leg?! What am I- a dog?” You laughed and he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, easily pinning you to the couch and holding your arms veheath you with little effort and one arm. 

“Mm-‘mmm- like a cat in heat, you’re like a little horny kitten” he said huskily in your ear and chuckled when you squirmed finally letting go and you sat up, flustered and incredibly turned on, but still too stubborn to let him know he had such control over you. 

“Stop it. Not fair you have all these girls running you down. Do French girls really walk around topless?” You asked and he laughed shaking his head 

“I’d have stayed in France if I got to look out my window and see tits all day. No they do not, but the nude beach thing is real. I just didn’t go because you kinda have to participate” he chuckles and you laughed imagining him trying to hide a boner at a beach. 

“So your one night stands…what is it like? Sex?” 

He was going to go fucking insane. 

“Uhhh-“ he feels blood rushing to his cock and casually rested his hand over his lap to conceal it “like- well f’me it’s different. But girls…well. Good- a lot of the girls I’ve been with say it feels good because it feels…complete. Like, full, like that’s how they wanna feel all the time. Which I mean when I’m fucking their pussy I could probably say the same but I guess that’s the best way to explain it. Full” he shrugged a bit, grabbing the throw pillow now and resting it over his lap as his explanation had his mind racing with each and every thing he wanted to show you. 

“Full” you repeated. Maybe that’s what you were missing. You had tried sticking your fingers inside once or twice but it never felt good, so you didn’t understand why other people would say it felt so good. The only thing that you found good oh, so good. Was rubbing your clit. 

Thinking about it being carmys hands other then your own made you get to this point where your toes would curl and legs would shake, it felt like fireworks. It always ended with your hips and said little twitching. Sometimes you realized if you went for too long, it would pulse. 

“Ye’ - have you ever tried anything yourself?” He asked, swallowing thickly after the question. He couldn’t lie, the only thing saving his dignity was the small throw pillow he had basically glued to his crotch with his hand. His cock was suffocating, painfully hard and throbbing against the confines of his vintage Levi jeans. 

“Oh yeah- yeah. It just… it’s never good I dunno maybe I don’t know how to do it right or something” you said, oblivious to the fact of what him holding that pillow even meant.  “Why don’t I show you so you can make yourself feel good, mmm? It’s a good thing to know, I’ll help you out ,  wouldn’t want you missin’ out, princess”

That’s how tonight started. Now, you were on your back on Carmy’s bed, completely bare, he was fucking coaching you on how to touch yourself. “So- show me how you start” he was sat in front of you, full view of your pussy. Your cheeks hadn’t ever felt hotter, but your mind was buzzing with excitement none the less. 

“Uh- like, well, whenever I try to put in a finger or something it hurts, so I just…” you spread your thighs wider, putting a bit of spit on your fingers before beginning to rub at your clit in slow, gentle circles. You took a deep breath at the pleasure it brought, meanwhile Carmy was watching your every move with a lustful gaze. His usually icy blue eyes were currently the blue of the midnight sky, lit with the dancing northern lights of being the first person to see you, to get the potential to deflower you. 

“How’s it feel?” he questioned. His voice was husky but soft, laced with honeyed desire. If he was any less than strictly disciplined, the sight of his childhood crush laying in front of him, spread out like something from a high school dream of his, touching herself - the prospect that she’d waited for him - he’d be mounting you like a fucking dog - but, the gentleman he was, he just watched, clutching the blankets at his sides to stop his trembling anticipatory hands.

“It- uh” you giggle nervously, “good - I um… I feel myself getting really wet I don’t wanna ruin your sheets did you wanna grab like…a towel-”

“No- no. That's fine, that's- that’s the fun of it. I love that, make a mess please make a mess, sweetheart. That's how I know you’re feeling good” he explained quickly. You swallowed thickly and nod, still feeling a bit weary on just allowing yourself to make a mess of his sheets, but if he really didn’t mind…

On the other hand Carmy literally had to squeeze his cock through the confines of his jeans so that he could ease the throb that was happening. As you nodded in agreement to his statement, moving your middle and ring finger around your clit a bit faster, adding a bit more pressure, he nearly groaned as your jaw fell slightly slack, letting out the prettiest little breathy whine he’d ever heard in his life. 

Your back arched in the most sensual way, your eyes fluttering shut and he took the opportunity to get his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, sighing at the great relief of pressure that was imprisoning his cock and resting back on one hand as he watched you, biting his bottom lip as you reached your other hand up and grabbed at your breast, gently tugging at your nipple and whining gently. 

“And uh-  this- I like this - feels good” your eyes fluttered open as you explained and he nodded quickly, as if he was taking mental notes of every single thing you said and did, and storing it in a file folder of his brain. 

“Yeah? Has anyone ever sucked on y’tits before, princess?” he asked in that soft, low way. He knew the answer to the question, of course he knew the fucking answer - you’d admitted to him that you hadn’t as much as made out with a guy before now, but he loved to hear you say it. He wanted to hear over, and over, and over, that he was the first person to make you feel good, the only person. The way he said it made your core clench around nothing - and now he could see it clear as day. It made the edges of his lips curl into a slight smirk when he noticed, having the urge to lean forward and catch the drip of creamy white arousal that gushed out of your pretty tight hole with his finger and pull it into his mouth, he wondered if he could make you squirt. “N-no- No uh… no one” you admit, please, please offer you begged with your eyes to which thankfully he agreed since he said

“Would you mind if I try, so we see if you like it?” he sat up a bit when you nod, expecting a verbal answer. He continued sitting, and you stared at eachother for a moment until he finally said “One thing that won’t work w’me is not usin’ y’r words, angel” he said in that breathy way that made you shiver, his tone sweet but firm. 

“Please, yes please” you said, voice meek and shy, just above a whisper. You had gotten so lost in his eyes that your hand stopped moving and when he noticed this as he shifted to get comfortable next to you, he said

“You can keep touching yourself, pretty girl” He kissed down your neck with hot, open mouthed kisses, leaving a trail of saliva that gave you a chill as he moved down to your same breast that you were just paying attention to with your fingers, so you move your hand to your other breast. He kissed over the flesh of your breast, looking up at you and gauging your reaction as you continued making quick circles around your clit, the sound of your wetness causing a faint click to be heard throughout the room. 

“If you want me to stop at any point, just say stop - ok? It doesn’t matter why, if you aren’t enjoying something say stop” he told you truthfully. You nodded and smiled a bit, your belly swarming with butterflies at the way he was so focused on making sure you felt safe and heard during your first experience that was so intimate. 

“I’ll be sure” you promised and he continued kissing around your breast until he got to your nipple. He ran his lips over it lightly, teasing the bud with his lips gently before sticking out his tongue and flicking it over the sensitive bud in a way that made you shiver slightly. Once he’d gotten your sensitive bud perky he took it into his mouth, sucking on it lightly and swirling his tongue around it in a way that made you moan out, eyes fluttering shut and head dropping back. 

“Oh- mmhmm- yeah, feels nice” you breathe, causing him to smirk around your flesh, bringing his hand up to your other breast, gently nudging your hand out of the way and taking over. You gasped as he rolled your other nipple between his fingers, a small twinge of pain flicking through you - but mixed with the feeling of his lips and tongue on your breast, and you fingers now quickly working at your clit in tight up and down strokes, your stomach beginning to clench and tighten. Your breathing got quicker, turning into little pants as you got closer and closer to your peak. He removed himself from your nipple with a pop, looking up at you 

“Gettin’ there, huh baby?” he confirmed, he could tell by the way you were whimpering and your thigh was twitching every so often that you were about to fall over. In response you nod quickly, mind fuzzy and eyes still closed. “Lemme show y’somethin” he takes his hand away from your breast, returning his mouth to your other nipple and gently applying pressure to your lower abdomen right below your naval. The pleasure was simply mind numbing, you weren’t sure how just a simple palm under your bellybutton could make you gasp, but here you were. The noises you were making were sinful, whiney, hot, even to your own standards - you didn’t even know you could make noises like this. 

“Tha’s it kitten, such a good girl - make yourself cum” he increases the pressure and you cry out as you’re thrown over the edge, hips jerking and shivering. Your thighs quivered, and he released his palm from your stomach to hold it and rub it gently as you continued working yourself through your high. Once he saw you finally take your fingers away from your clit once you began to feel overstimulated he pulls away from your breast once again and takes your hand, looking at the sticky creamy strings dripping down your fingers. 

“Can I clean these up for you angel?” he asked and your mouth dropped a bit at the questioned, your already twitching clit feeling like it leapt. 

“Yes- please do” you said softly. You thought he was going to be so gentlemanly and take his t-shirt off and wipe them for you so you didn’t have to get up and wash your hands since your legs felt like jelly, but what he did was even better. He parted his lips, opening his mouth and taking your fingers all the way to the back of his tongue, before closing his lips around them and sucking them, swirling his tongue around them like he did your nipple and the sensation caused a moan to escape your throat, which in turn he huffed a chuckle through his nose. 

Once your fingers were cum free, he pulled off of them with a similar pop as earlier on your breast and looked at you with a hazy lust filled smile “You did so good, squish” he said and you blushed, the sound of your childhood nickname in such an intimate moment making you feel extra shy. You giggled a bit as he cupped your cheeks with his dry hand before squishing them and pulling you close to give you short sweet pecks all over your face and finally landing on your lips. 

“Thank you - I’ve never finished that fast I think” you said and he smirked, resting his forehead on yours 

“Yeah? Bet I could make you do it again, and faster” he mused softly, his breath fanning your lips and you could smell the taste of yourself on his tongue, causing your heart to flutter in your chest. You hadn’t even tasted that before, let alone anyone else. 

“I’d bet you can’t” you teased, ever egging on the forever running competition between you two. “Especially after I just finished, that’d take forever” you smirk and he snorts a laugh, sitting up a bit. 

“Is that a challenge, squish?” he asked and you shrug, 

“If you think you can handle it, sure” you spread your legs again as he sat up fully and got you situated between his thighs and comfortably sitting against his chest. 

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into.

“Not only can I handle it, I can do it without touching your clit if you trust me” he said cockily and you look back at him 

“Always trust you bear” you said sweetly. He felt butterflies in his stomach, bending his head down and giving you a long, gentle kiss, the kind of kiss that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It felt like the kiss of a summer breeze, sweet and relaxing

“Ok, I know you said that you’ve tried fingering yourself and it didn’t feel good, but I wanna try- Like I said before, just say stop any time, ye’?” he assured and remembering what he said about needing to use your words you nod and added a soft ‘yes’  to confirm your understanding. “Good girl” he purred, kissing your forehead and nudging his thigh under yours, pries your legs a bit further open. 

“So usually you’re gonna wanna do what you just did before you start fingering yourself, kitten - gotta get yourself nice and wet, if you can make yourself cum before you start that’s even better. But you wanna start with just one knuckle, middle finger is best usually” he explained, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear and hot breath tickling your neck as he whispered low and soft. 

“Uh- uh-huh” you said, swallowing thickly as you watched his finger slowly swirl around your hole, collecting creamy white arousal and slowly pulling it away so there would be a string as he held it up to show. 

“See that, all that sweet shit? That’s what you need for it to feel good baby” he rubbed his thumb with his middle finger, spreading them apart to show you the sticky stringy mess when he had barely touched you yet. “You’ve tasted yourself, right angel?” he nipped at your earlobe gently, pulling it with his teeth and you whimper softly. 

“No- I- I haven’t” you admitted, breath hitching when he tuts, disappointed, 

“You have to, you have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, squish, go ahead- s’like fuckin candy” he swipes his middle and forefinger over your hole all the way up to your sensitive clit, making your hips twitch a bit as he collected the fingerfull of white cream and brought it up to your lips. You opened without a second thought, and he thrusts his fingers in your mouth in such a way that made you groan a bit at the heavy feeling of his fingers on your tongue. He was right, you did taste sweet. Heady, but wonderful. He hummed as your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the taste. 

“See? Thank you for letting me be the first person to taste you babygirl” he kissed your temple as he gently eased his tattooed fingers out of your mouth after you licked them clean. The statement leaving his lips made his cock twitch, fuck, no one had ever had such a effect on him before, as if there was fireworks popping in his veins. 

You looked up at him, leaning up and connecting your lips in another one of those kisses that made your heart skip a beat or two. He gently squeezed at the plush of your thigh, his nails creating light half moon shaped indents in the flesh which caused a sweet whimper to leave your throat “Carmy please touch me” you begged, before trying to bring your lips back to his and he inched his face away teasingly. 

“Use your words, pretty girl” he purred, gently grazing his teeth over your jaw and nipping gently. You arched your hips, trying to get him to rub at your clit again, kissing his lips with a passionate open mouthed kiss and taking his hand, putting it over your heat and grinding over his fingers, huffing a breath of relief when you felt his strong fingers brushing over your clit. He huffed a chuckle into your lips, dipping his fingers down and swirling the tip of his middle finger over your entrance after spreading you out with his fingers, gently prodding just the tip of it in. You bit down on his lip gently, pulling away and letting it snap back into place. 

“I wanna try that with you…maybe it’ll feel better when someone else does it” you admit shyly, hand moving to cover your breast when you realized that it was still just you sprawled out and naked on his bed, he had only unbuttoned his jeans at this point. “An’ I want you to take this off” you said just above a whisper, voice honeyed with innocence as you tugged at the hem of his shirt. 

“M’sorry baby I didn’t mean to strip you down an’not join you, I just had t’get a fuckin’ taste been wantin’it f’so long” he admitted, sitting up and pulling his shirt off with one tug, his curls becoming even more ruffled in the process before settling back against the headboard, your back now warmed by the feeling of his chest pressed against it. He pulled your thigh open again wider this time, and went back to rubbing your clit in gentle, slow circles that had your head dropping back on his shoulder. 

“Like we said you tell me if s’too much yea?” he said gently in your ear before kissing the base of your neck and you hum, muttering a yes, that turned into a gasp as he picked up the speed of his fingers.

“Yes- god- please, yes Carmy” you weren’t sure what exactly you were begging for, but knew if it was anything like up to this point- 

You were going to enjoy yourself just fine.

You felt so hot, You had lost track of how many times Carmy had made you cum on his fingers at this point, your brain had turned to mush after number 5 and you just became a pathetic moaning mess beneath him only knowing ‘yes’ and ‘no’. The sheets beneath you felt soaked with your arousal, and you could barely keep your eyes open. You felt another one coming as your thighs had began to shake and you were squirming in Carmys lap as he held your thighs open with his knees hooked over yours to keep them from closing. 

“Awww y’gonna cum f’me again bunny? Mmm? You sound so fuckin’ pretty when you cum, beggin’ me to keep goin- fucked you stupid and you havent even had my cock yet” he edged you on in that soft husky voice you loved right in the shell of your ear. Your jaw had come slack, and hips rutted up beyond your control to meet his fingers and draw them deeper - how he’d stretched you open to accommodate 3 was still baffling to you 

“Yes- yesyesyesyesyes” you babbled, feeling him chuckle at your eagerness. He had never been so fucking hard in his life, but being the disciplined partner in the bedroom he was, he wanted to be sure that you were essentially in tears begging for his cock by the time he gave it to you and he was well on his way there. 

“Yeah? Yeah you wanna cum angel? What if I do this, mmm? On that spot we found” he purrs in  your ear, finding that spot that made you nearly stop breathing and stars of white to form behind your lids and continued to pump his fingers in that come hither motion you knew would get you to your peak faster, but what you didn’t know was he was going to rub the pad of his palm right over your clit that was aching for attention in such a way you felt a pit at the base of your stomach so white hot with pleasure that all you could do was quickly look down to see what on earth could feel so good just as a gush of creamy white covers his fingers and drips down his wrist, going as far as to drop to the crook of his arm and the most mind-melting orgasm washed over you after that. 

He worked you through it, of course, purring filthy praises in your ear about creaming so pretty on his fingers, and how the noises you made were something close to angelic. He kissed over the side of your face, down to your jaw, and neck, nibbling over the little marks that he’d left on your collarbones as he slowed down the thrusting of his fingers. 

“Let’s see what kinda mess you made, babygirl” he eased his fingers out, the empty feeling causing you to whine a bit that he caught quickly in a kiss, sucking on your already plump and kiss-bitten bottom lip, by the time he pulled away to look your mind was hazy and kiss drunk. “Wow” he mutters, utterly amazed with your release, holding up his sticky right hand and spreading his fingers apart to demonstrate the sweet stringy white cream covering his digits.

“You want some baby?” he sucked the tips of his fingers sensually, moaning hotly at the taste, enjoying it so much that his lust blown blue eyes fluttered shut for a moment. You took his hand, taking his fingers and opening wide, sucking them clean. You hum softly at the satly sweet taste, definitely different then just your slick from earlier. 

“Good girl- always so good f’me mm?” he braised, cupping your cheek with his other hand and you didnt take your eyes off him as you began to slowly bob your head back and forth, causing his jaw to fall slack watching as your eyes got friskier, he knew you knew what you were doing. “Are you a good girl?” he mocked “That isn’t good girl behavior” he teased, causing you to pull off his fingers with a satisfying pop, licking your lips of the additional release that coated them.

“What if I said no, would I be in trouble” you muse, a frisky smile dancing on your lips. You giggled how you did when he knew you were up to something. 

“Ohhh do you want to be punished?” He grabs your face, “open up this filthy fuckin mouth mm?” He said and you stuck your tongue out teasingly. “Noooo, I said open” he tapped your cheek lightly and you relented, opening your mouth for him and sticking your tongue out wide just to tease. 

“Aaahhh” you said teasingly until you heard and felt him spit a hot glob of saliva into your mouth that tasted like your arousal coating your tongue. You opened your eyes to see him smirking down at you cockily. 

“Now swallow since you wanna act like such a little slut mmm?” He pushed your jaw closed and you swallow right away, looking up at him stunned but impossibly turned on, not quite sure how to even respond as you never thought it was an option. 

“Can you do it again please” you open your mouth and rest your head back. He chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he collected a generous glob in the front of his mouth before connecting his lips to yours, letting it fall over your tongue and you moan softly drinking it down like a magical elixir while you kiss over his lips. He pulled away just enough to speak 

“Already turned you into a little fuckin’ whore f’me, mm?” He strokes your cheek gently with his now dry but slightly sticky hand from your cum and you turned your face to the side, capturing your lips around his thumb and sucking lightly as you look into his eyes, bobbing your head slowly and his breath hitched a bit. 

“Have you ever sucked cock?” He asked, his voice soft and husky. You get your cheeks heat at the bluntness of the question. 

“N-no,” you managed, your voice sheepish. 

“Y’wanna try, you can say no, of course, but you seem to have…” he pried your mouth open with his thumb again, brushing the pad of it over your tongue and as if it was a routine you closed your lips around it and swirled your tongue, bobbing your head slightly and he squished your cheeks with his hand “an oral fixation. So let’s put it to better use then cleanin’ the cum offa’ my fingers, mm?” He said in such a way that made a shiver go down your spine. 

“Yea- I might not be good-“ you start to apologize and he put his finger to your lips, stopping you 

“I can teach you.” He promised and you nodded gently, holding onto his forearm and gently taking the finger into your mouth all the way to the base and humming softly when you felt him pressing on the back of your tongue more, and more until you gagged and coughed into his hand. “Good girl, first thing is you need some spit” he pushed his boxers and jeans down enough to free his throbbingly hard cock, it coming up and slapping his stomach with a small fleshy sound that made your mouth water as you looked at it. 

Veiny, thick, adorned with a little bush of dark curls at the base, balls that looked like the perfect handful- he was prettier then you’d though. “You’ve seen a dick before, right?” He teased as he grabbed it, twisting his wrist as he covered it with the slick and tightening his jaw a bit as he got used to the sensation. 

Carmen was used to being pent up weeks at a time, of not having barely 10 minutes to sit and jack off without the sound of an email coming in and completely killing his boner - when he was quite literally almost there. So he was an expert at edging himself by this point, getting to cum for him was well- a luxury. And he knew if he was gonna cum anywhere tonight, he wanted it to be your pussy obviously or your mouth- or face, depending on the mood but he knew for your first time covering your face in cum and taking a picture of it may be a little nerve wracking, so that was more just a fantasy - but mouth or pussy would please him greatly. 

“Yes- ive seen a dick… not like…in real life. But I’ve seen them In like…I saw porn a few times.” You admit shyly and his cock twitched in the confines of his hand at your admission. 

Shiiiiiiit he thought to himself in his head, resisting the urge to just choke the fuck out of his cock and get this over with, finally get that release that his stomach was starting to hurt for. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. He’d been waiting for so long for this, that the thought of wasting the opportunity instead of having your mouth on his cock and he would rather get back with Claire then miss this opportunity. 

“Yeah- mm tell me what kinda porn did you watch princess-“ he grunted a bit as he continued lightly stroking himself. You decided to take it upon yourself to straddle his thighs, and gently grab his wrist. 

“I’ll tell you, but can I do this part?” You asked. Carmy was convinced he could cum right there so he grabbed the base of his cock, squeezing tight thinking of anything he could to not just bust and have it spurt all the way onto your tits like a loaded fucking gun. 

“Yeah- course baby” he let go of it, guiding your hand to the base and wrapping his hand around yours, stomach muscles tightening when he felt the sheer size and softness of your hand. “Jesus Christ-“ he muttered to himself as he slowly started working your hands up and down his length, his abs contracting with each twist of your wrist over his sensitive tip. “Tell me- was it, fuck was it like this? Er was it rough?” He asked, and you found yourself easing over onto his Jean clad thigh and rubbing your pussy back and forth over the denim to ease the throb that began to build there. You let out a soft wanton moan before responding 

“Uh- mmm- I- I think that uh- it was pretty rough” you admit, grinding yourself a bit harder when he tightens his hand around yours and moves your hands in tandem faster 

“Yeah? Was she screamin’? Did she cream all over his cock like I made you do?” He asked and your cheeks go pink at the reminder, not like the milky creamy stain sitting a few inches to your left didn’t remind you enough of just the mess he can have you making. 

“Uh- hnngg” your thoughts practically melt as you brought yourself closer to the edge moving your hips in tandem with his hand and jaw falling slack 

“Awwww are you makin’ y’self cum on my leg? You’re humping my leg princess mmm?” He cooed, moving his hand slower and watched as you slowed your hips “y’wanna cum on my leg? Mmm?” He asked and you nodded fervently, brain feeling fuzzy and lower stomach wound tight with that need, every pass of his strong thigh covered by roughly starched denim over your twitching sensitive nub causing that coil to wrap tighter, and tighter getting ready to snap at any moment. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my leg- er come on my cock” he asked and your eyes shot open -

not having realized for whatever reason that was definitely an option.

After a quick begging session of telling Carmy it would be okay to not use a condom since you had a birth control insert - it was making it harder and harder for Carmy to maintain his composure with every word passed from your pretty plump lips. 

You were on your back, legs spread impossibly wide- Carmy brought out a flexibility in you you didn’t know existed, even though you guessed you’d likely be sore tomorrow. He grabbed lube from his nightstand, a dark purple bottle that read astroglide : water based lubricant on the side and opened the cap, squirting a decent glob in his hand. 

“S’gonna be cold but it’s ok, everythings gonna get real hot in here in a second” he mused, stroking himself a few times to get himself coated before rubbing the rest over your already dripping hole and clit. He just wanted to be sure. He was right though, the feeling of the icy gel made goosebumps appear on your lower stomach that he began to kiss away as he rubbed at your clit gently 

“Y’need me T’stretch you again just say the word, ok?” He confirmed, lining himself up with your entrance. You nodded reaching out for his hand and he took it in his, lacing your fingers together and kissing it sweetly “nervous, baby?” He asked in that soft sweet way that made your heart melt into a puddle in your chest. 

Well, not anymore you thought. 

“No- i promise ill tell you if it hurts” you assured him. He supported the leg that was curled around his waist with his strong arm, hoisting it up onto his shoulder 

“It’ll feel good this way, trust” he gently nudged his tip in, causing you both to moan out a bit. “Holy fucking shit squish” he grunted out. Just the tip and he was already gritting his teeth to hold it together and not cream pie you before he even thrusted once.  

“Wow- wow” you said breathlessly and when he rubbed your clit your toes curled and spine arched off the bed slightly. “Fuck- yes- oh yes, yesyesyes” you babble as he sinks in deeper. Your eyes were shut in bliss, but his were wide as an owl, taking in your everything. 

Every breath, every moan, every twitch and arch and curve - it was like watching art. “God- so fuckin beautiful” he said as he sunk in another inch, rubbing your clit in tighter circles and he began to feel that tight pulsing he knew meant you were right on the edge he had felt on his fingers so many times tonight, but now that it was around his cock- his mind went blank. Completely fucking blank. He wasn’t sure if he was asked what his name was in that moment he’d have an answer, like every single bit of information he’d ever learned had vanished into an abyss. The only thing he could do was let out a series of whiney moans and grunts that hurled you into an orgasm that has tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh fuck- yessss babygirl cum on my fuckin cock- god- such a good fuckin girl” he praised once he finally found his tongue, using the oppertunity to sink in fully to the hilt and you cry out, grabbing at his arm and gripping it with your nails causing him to grunt “fuck- gonna scratch me up kitten? Mmm? Let everyone at work know I rocked your shit?” He thrust just a bit harder and you dragged your nails down his arm, gasping at the sensation when he threw your other leg on his shoulder and you felt him impossibly deep. 

It was all consuming how full you felt, quite frankly it was addicting. The mushroom shaped tip of his cock was massaging over that incredible spot deep inside you that made you see stars in your vision. You didn’t even notice that he was staring at the bulge showing up in your belly with each deep thrust of his cock. 

“Jesus fuckin hell - look a’this, bunny” he taps your cheek lightly for your attention and rubs his hand over that little bulge and he groans as he can feel the tips of his fingers pressing over his cock as he thrusts up. The sight is incredible, unimaginably hot. You brushed his hand out of the way and gently press, causing you both to moan out in pure ecstasy. 

“Oh- oh fuck fuck” he rambled, sweat dripping down his toned muscle and chain swinging against his glistening chest. You had the bright idea many times before but were never given the golden opportunity (pun intended)  to suck on the little gold pendant no matter how many times it ever so teasingly dangled in front of your face. Since it was now or never, you hook your finger around the necklace and pull him closer and closer until you could pull it into your mouth and he groans hotly as you suck on it, wrapping it around your tongue. 

“I always catch you starin’ at that, y’know that sweetheart?” He smirked down at you, continuing his slow deep strokes and putting his hand back over that little Carmen shaped swell he was leaving just below your naval. You felt your cheeks run hot never realizing that you had made it so obvious the appreciation you had for his chain. What could you say? The man wore it well. 

“S’not my fault you look so good in your white shirts and chains. You drive me crazy” you admit, letting the necklace fall from your lips. He hummed softly at your admission, tilting your face up and capturing your lips in a kiss, cupping your cheek to hold you to his mouth and continue kissing you, quicker, more fervent as he sped up the snapping of his hips causing you to mewl into his mouth, and for his breath to fan out of his nose against your upper lip in hot short pants as he trailed his hands down over your neck, lingering there for a moment which for whatever reason sent fireworks shooting off in your belly, before sliding down and finding the swell of your breasts that were bouncing with each rough snap of his hips. 

The sound throughout the room was the lewd wet slapping of skin, as well as whiney little moans tearing from your throat with each time his hips bounced off the meat of your ass from the intensity of his thrusts. He grabbed your breasts, one in each hand and thrummed over your nipples with the pads of his thumbs, squeezing them in his palms, pushing them together, just utterly enjoying himself kneading the balls of flesh. 

The boyishness of it caused you to pull away so you wouldn’t laugh into his mouth and look down at his large tattooed hands massaging and squishing your breasts. “Havin’ fun, Bear?” You teased and he pinched your nipples playfully causing you to gasp at the mix of pain and pleasure. 

“I am havin’ fun- aren’t you havin’ fun?” He confirmed, letting go of the sensitive buds of flesh so you could find the mind to reply you nod quickly and he cupped your jaw, slowing his thrusts “words” he reminded 

“The most fun I’ve ever fucking had now keep touching my tits” you giggled, taking his palm and bringing it back to your breast and he snorts a laugh. 

“I’ve created a monster, mmm?” He teased, quickening his thrusts again and you nod with a hot mewl as he buries himself to the hilt and grinds his hips in such a way that his cock was rutting against your special spot, in turn causing you to gush around his cock how you did earlier and your legs shake as another one of those intense orgasms washed over you, your eyes nearly rolling back as your lids flutter shut and jaw dropped. There was the roaring of blood in your ears, your back arching off the bed as your jaw fell slack and you let something out between a scream and a cry, “fuuuckfuckfuck Carmy fuckkkk” you cry out, the warmth flooding the sheets below you to the point you could hear the trickle of it. 

“So fuckin hot Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin hot baby- soakin my fuckin cock like this I’m gonna fuckin fill up this pussy” he grunts, his thrusts becoming spurratic and he took his thumb, massaging it over your clit and laying his 4 fingers in such a way he could press in and feel himself fuck you as he did before. 

The pleasure was so mind numbing you felt like jelly, the only thing in your brain currently was how if he kept doing this you were surely going to soak his mattress and have to buy him a new one, but for whatever reason your brain couldn’t connect with your mouth and the thought left as quick as it came. “You still want that kitten? Mm? Want me to cum in y’r tight pussy, yea? Make you mine?” He kissed over your ankle and down your calf as he waited for an answer. When he didn’t get one he spanks you lightly causing you to squeak in surprise “I said. Do you want me to cum inside you still? Mm? You fuckincockdrunk over there?” He said teasingly and you nodded quickly 

“Yes - t’both, probably” you admit and he chuckled, bending over and giving you a chaste kiss to the temple 

“Such a good girl” he praised, rubbing your clit quicker so you would clench around him. You squirmed beneath him, sensitive from your last orgasm but not able to tell him to stop- it felt too fucking good. “I know Angel- I know, almost there fuck jus’ a minute” he grunted, thrusting harder and groaning out hotly. “Thaaaas’ it - fuck so fuckin close bunny gonna fill up this pretty pussy- so fuckin tight god” he moaned out hotly, head dropping back in bliss as he absolutely wrecked you. 

But you couldn’t help but look at him with half lidded blissed out eyes thinking that he looked like the incarnate of a Greek fucking statue that has an enormous cock. “Fuckin need it- need it- make me yours Carmy” you begged out, finally finding your voice again when you felt him twitch inside of you. He had helped you over the edge tonight - showed you what it meant to feel good - so you figured the least you could do is help him get there once. 

“Yeah? Tell me again baby, what do you need?” He rasps, finding it harder to hold back, but he had to hear you say it. 

“Cum inside of me, Bear. Make me yours, mark me.” You said between gasps and mewls, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. His eyes squeeze shut as he thrusts a few more times before setting himself inside you to the hilt and moaning hotly as he releases a huge hot string of cum inside of you, groaning as he thrusts slowly, releasing spurt after spurt of white cream that felt so warm, so right. 

“Thank you- thank you squish, thank you” he rambled, cum gushing down the curve of your ass onto the sheets as he milked himself of every last drop with the help of your tight cunt. “God you are so fucking perfect” he said, his voice honeyed with lust and admiration. You pulled him to lay on top of you, his cock still deep inside. “I can pull out whenever-“

You interrupt him with a sweet, gentle, open mouthed kiss running your tongue over his and nudging your noses together gently before whispering  “Let’s just stay like this for a while”

You stayed like that for about 15 minutes, until Carmy told you that he had to get you cleaned up and make sure that you used the restroom since you had gone so many rounds. By that time though, you had gotten all too comfortable with your leg around his waist and nuzzled into his neck, starting to fall asleep. 

“But I don’t even haveee to peee” you whined, causing him to huff a chuckle, rubbing your side encouragingly. 

“You have to do a few things before we nap, ok? I’ll even carry you cmon, let me up little monkey” he teased, picking up your arm and dropping it. You pretended it was dead weight, mushing your cheek into his chest more, enjoying the smell of his sweat mixed with his cologne. 

“Mm comfy here” you mused and he gently brushed your sweaty auburn hair from your forehead. 

“I can tell you’re comfy cause you sound like you’re about t’fall asleep, squish. I was gonna make you a grilled cheese- if you listen” he mused and your head perked up. 

“The one with the Parmesan on the outside so it’s all crunchy?” You asked hopefully and he smiled adoringly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone 

“And creamy tomato soup” he added and you peeled your arm from around him, sweaty skin sticking together as you pulled your bodies apart. You stretched, wincing a bit at the feeling in your lower back. 

“Mm- we went hard” you said, and he gently helped hoist you so you were sitting up 

“We did- sorry - was it too much?” He slipped on his boxers and came over to your side of the bed, scooping you up bridal style and kissing your forehead sweetly as he padded over to his en suite bathroom, gently setting you on the toilet and pulling out a good amount of toilet paper, folding it for you as you went. 

“It wasn’t- ew why is my pee like…hot” you laughed causing him to chuckle as well as he handed over the toilet paper, before turning to the sink to wash his hands to give you privacy while you cleaned yourself up. 

“Uh- kinda stupid but I read in this book that f’girls it like… is a defense thing for bacteria er’ some shit?” He chuckled and you giggle as you flush the toilet 

“You read a sex book- woah-“ you attempted getting up but your thighs felt impossibly weak, and if it wasn’t for Carmy quickly noticing and dropping the hand towel to quickly grab your arms and steady you, you’d have fallen. 

“Woahh there, Bambi, lemme help you, yeah? S’what I’m here for” he assured you and carefully helped you over to the counter, holding you up by your waist so you could wash your hands. 

“Thanks- sorry. Dunno why I feel like I just ran 15 miles I barely did anything” you said shyly as you rinsed your hands with soap and water. 

“S’just your first time, baby. It’s all normal don’ worry” he said, planting gentle kisses along your neck down to your shoulder where he’d left little purple marks. 

“Oh-“ you said a bit worriedly as you saw the scratch marks in the mirror that you’d left on his bicep, so deep they looked nearly bruised,  touching over them with your finger lightly “I hurt you- I’m so sorry” you whisper, looking down at them and he shook his head. 

“Don’t worry kitten, loved it, felt good” he kissed your cheek gently and scooped you back up with ease, carrying you to his laundry room and sitting you on top of the dryer 

“What are we in here for?” You questioned and he grabbed a pair of clean boxers from his hamper as well as one of his old the beef t-shirts that had been freshly washed as well. 

“T’get you dressed so you don’t freeze to death” he said as if it was obvious, forgetting that your clothes that laid beneath you both in the bed that you had worn here were likely soaking wet which made you scrunch your nose. 

“And get new sheets” he said with a smirk as if he could read your mind, it always felt like he could. He gently eased your ankles into each leg hole, pulling them up to your thighs and slipping the shirt over your head, helping your arms through before helping you down and pulling the boxer briefs up the rest of the way. 

“Alright you can chill on the couch while I get all that shit in the wash, yea?” He picked you up, lifting you onto his shoulder like a sack of flour and you gasp and squeal laugh when he spanks you playfully 

“Oh my god! Carmy!” You laugh, holding onto his shoulder as he carried you to his living room and gently dumped you on his couch where all of this started, and HalloweenTown was now back at the beginning screen asking if you wanted to replay the movie. 

“I have to transport you somehow when these legs are useless” he teased and rested his knee on the couch, bending over and giving you a quick kiss on the head. “Lemme go change those sheets and I’ll be right out to make you your food, in the meantime though I want you drinkin’ this” he sets your yeti cup that was still full of ice water next to you on the side table and you smile a bit. 

“Do you act this nice with all the girls you sleep with or am I just special” you said jokingly. His smile faltered for a moment as he thought about what he was going to say. 

No, I’m pretty sure I would only ever act this way the first time I slept with someone if it was the person I’d been desperately in love with since middle school - 

But he’d never say that out loud, the boldness from all the adrenaline and testosterone he’d been flooded with in the throes of passion have came and went. So he settled on,

“No, squish. You’re just special” he kissed the top of your head before heading back into his bedroom to deal with the waterlogged sheets you two had left. You nibbled on the inside of your lip, deep in thought as to what this meant for your relationship going forward, his words ringing around in your mind, until he came out- carrying a bundle of sheets in his arms, his biceps flexing as he carried them all to the laundry room. 

“How’s that water comin’ squish?” He called from the laundry room as he loaded up the washing machine, shit- you had one job while he was gone and failed to do it. 

“Good!” You lied, grabbing the cup and quickly chugging down a good 5 gulps, the icy feeling chasing all the way down to your stomach that grumbled at the contact making you realize it had been a while since you ate. 

“I didn’t hear that cup move once before I asked. I was listening” he said amused, returning out of the laundry room in gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and he padded into the kitchen, getting out a pan to heat. 

“Okay creepy, listening to my water habits- I’m gonna watch my movie now that you so filthily interrupted with your… your…” you try to find the word and he laughs, getting out what he needed for the soup and your sandwiches 

“Myyyyyy….” He teased 

“Sluttiness!!! Your masculine- pull” you said and you both cracked up, shaking his head 

“You’re a fuckin dork” he mused and you smiled, shrugging as you hit play on your movie once again. 

“You love dorks. It’s why we’re best friends”  

It wasn’t long until Carmy came over with a steaming bowl of soup, and 4 squares of amazing grilled cheese on a plate and sat It down at the coffee table. “Careful the soup is hot” he warned and you grabbed one of the little triangles right away, taking a bite and moaning 

“Mm best grilled cheese In the world” you rest your head on his shoulder, chewing happily and your eyes fluttering shut in bliss. 

He chuckled a bit, having a bite of his own that of course wasn’t as beautifully plated and prepared as yours was (and had gone a bit cold since he always made yours last so it would be hot and melty for you) “really? You think that could be an award I could get, should we call Guinness?” He joked, causing you to laugh a bit. 

People often thought Carmy wasn’t funny, or that he didn’t have the ability to make conversation  - he was simply very shy, and observant. When you were in public too, he didn’t have a problem joking around with you - but with people he doesn’t know, he prefers to sit back for quite a while and observe the way they react to other people before he tries to interact himself. It made you two a great pair, because you always trusted his judgment. 

“We really should. Hey- why do you always make mine all pretty?” You asked, realizing that you always noticed it but had never brought it up before. He hummed in contemplation, swallowing before saying 

“I dunno. Cause you deserve nice things” he said simply before taking another bite. You scrunched your brows together, doing the same as you thought. 

“You deserve nice things” you said and he nodded 

“Already got em’ got all the nice things I need” he said and finished off his first half before having a sip of water from the glass he’d brought for himself. You weren’t sure what he was saying, Carmy didn’t allow himself to have like…anything. 

“What are those?” You asked and he looked at you 

“Well, you’re my best friend. S’all I need, I realized after I came back from New York I’d rather be your friend and stay here then be anyone else, I love being your friend, squish. You’re a great friend” he said earnestly. Your cheeks suddenly felt hot, and you felt a lump in your throat like you could cry 

“Bear I love being your friend” you put your sandwich on the plate and wrap your arms around him. He held you, kissing your cheek gently as he rubbed your back, enveloping you in one of those deep warm hugs you knew him for. He always gave Bear Hug a new meaning to you. “But-“ you pulled away and look at him, biting your lip gently. “We can keep being friends… after what we did- right?” You asked and his eyes widened before nodding like it was the craziest question in the world. 

“Are you- yes- yes squish. That wouldn’t ever change me wanting to be your friend - nothing could change that.” He cupped your cheek gently “you- y’re everything t’me” he said softly, stroking your cheek with his thumb lightly. 

“So are you…are you doing this kinda thing with other girls still?” You asked meekly, eyes drifting to your lap. He took his other hand, bringing it to your other cheek and angling your face up to look at him once again. 

“Do you want me to stop seeing other women?” He asked, his voice low, soft, honest. You swallowed thickly in contemplation, looking into his eyes. You wanted to say yes, but you didn’t want to feel selfish in case he didn’t feel the same, but if he didn’t feel the same you didn’t want to do that with him again. 

“Yes- b-but…but if you don’t want to…that’s ok, carm. I just- I only want it to be us…” you said softly. He eased you into his lap, stroking your auburn hair gently and kissing your jaw up to your cheek and over to your lips, giving you a deep affectionate kiss, one that made your heart feel like it was going to burst with butterflies. After a few moments he pulled away and muttered against your lips, “It’s just us from now on” 

Tagging bestie boops: @gallaghersgal @mouseymilkovich @daysofyellowroses @l4long-winded @carmybrainworms

[hyewka]

idk if this is allowed but,

threesome with yeonjun and beomgyu

⭑ fetish! | c.yj & c.bg ࿐

⭑ synopsis; when a late night conversation with soju and beer transforms into the calling out of choi beomgyus historical pattern of hook up bluffs the attention eventually shifts to you and your sex endeavors.

⭑ warnings; inexperienced!reader, sort of soft dom!yj & switch!gyu, cunninglingus, gagging, throat fuck, cum eating, unsafe sex, creampie, basically all of them are drunk to some degree, iffy word choice with consent but its all definitely consensual, doll/baby petname, childhood best friends/college au

⭑ note; i don’t know how to feel about this at all and i feel like i might wake up one day and just randomly despise it with my entire being but here is a threesome fic long overdue on this blog, take it with what you will because this might just be the last time i ever attempt to challenge my skills 😭

⭑ send in a small prompt with the format of (member) + (nsfw prompt) and ill write you a small drabble!

“So what if we didn’t go all the way, I still got to eat her out. Which she loved F.Y.I.”

Yeonjun snorts, downing his drink. “Dude you’re such a loser.”

“Just say you don’t get bitches like I do.”

You don’t mean to, but that’s what breaks your nonchalance, cracking up like that was the funniest thing you’ve heard.

Like clockwork, both of their heads turn to you expectantly, as if remembering that you’re here with them and you know you just messed up. Maybe if you keep looking at your phone they’d know to leave you alone.

This has been a thing since highschool; their dumb Who Gets More Action wars that served almost no purpose but to stroke their young male egos. More times than you could count, you’re for some reason sucked in as the end all be all judge even if there were others present they could go and bother with details of their sex life.

You’re not letting that happen tonight. You will not become Simon Cowell of who fucks more.

“Hey,” Beomgyu starts nudging you with his feet, annoyingly persistent. “Hey hey, get off your phone, what are you laughing at?”

Yeonjun easily swipes your phone from your hands making you throw your head back groaning. God, to hell with him. “Give it back!” you whine. He shrugs, stuffing your phone in his pockets. Asshole.

You glare at him with murder on your mind, but all that gets you is a condescending pout thrown your way.

“Ughhh I’m going to throw up, stop with the flirting.”

You throw your plastic cup at Beomgyu’s face, and he flinches back in the most dramatic sense ever. “Bitch.” you mutter.

Yeonjun ignores Beomgyu’s comment altogether. “Everyone knows I get more bitches than you Beomgyu. That’s why she laughed. Plus, you make up shit all the time.”

“I do not.”

“You do. You lied about Yoo Jimin.” You recall, giving up on getting your phone back.

Yeonjun makes a sound of remembrance, clasping his hands together. “That was actually so funny. Yoo Jimin. You’ve lost your mind.”

Beomgyu shoots you a betrayed look, “No way you believe his propaganda! We literally had sex! Halloween 2021!”

You give him a skeptical look, brows raised. Beomgyu could fool anyone, but he can’t fool Yeonjun, let alone you. Beomgyu and Jimin? Didn’t make sense. Not on Earth at least.

“That’s one person anyway who cares.” he mutters.

“Ryujin.” You name. “She’s lesbian Gyu. Even when she was questioning she would’ve rather killed herself than let a man touch her.”

Yeonjun barks into laughter, leaning into you. “Ryujin of all people is fucking mental man.”

“Two people, still very little.” he counters.

Was that a challenge? If he wanted to play this game, you would be an expert.

“Jihyo, Miyeon—”

“I fucked Miyeon.”

“Yeah but you said she let you fuck her in the ass, which! She revealed never happened.”

He gasps in horror, face dropped, like that had to be the most offensive thing hes heard.

“I literally have proof it happened, holy shit Miyeon’s a pathological liar.” Beomgyu fumbles his phone, eyes laser focused as his thumb swipes in rapid speed. You snicker, he’s such an idiot. You know he’ll turn up empty but hes on a mission so you let him be.

“Can you pass me the beer?” you mutter lazily, feeling the alcohol hit you now, making a grabbing motion to the can far from your reach.

“Sure you want more?” Yeonjun whispers, with a similarly lazy slur to his words.

You were all clearly buzzed out, sprawled on the floor of your living room, your table pushed to the side with multiple beer cans crushed in a mess. It’s your version of heaven— a little sad maybe, but it was the perfect mix of mundane and fun to you.

“Just beer.” You reply.

He nods, grabbing it for you and instinctively twisting the cap open. Hes’ always been like that, an acts of service sort of guy. The small flex of his veins when he does it is something you silently take note of. You’re so far gone with your small crush on him.

You clear your throat, snapping yourself out of it. “Thanks. Are you gonna give me back my phone or?”

He pretends to think it over, before clicking his tongue. “Nah, later.”

You roll your eyes, taking a sip from your can.

“We don’t get to hangout like this often, missed it y’know? So you can hold off your phone addiction for a bit and stop acting bratty.” he teases.

“Aye aye captain.”

He tuts at you, nudging your shoulder. “I literally cringe internally every time you say that.”

You hum, looking over at Beomgyu. Who is incredibly tense, almost frozen. “Why’d you stop scrolling?”

Maybe Yeonjun saw what you saw, Beomgyu’s face incredibly red, and eyes so weirdly fixed on his phone because he immediately scoots to him, nosy to take a look at his phone screen.

You study Yeonjun’s face. His brows slowly rise. And the only thing he says is “Damn.”

“What?” you ask, curiosity peaked. Nobody answers though, seemingly hypnotised by whatevers on Beomgyus screen.

Yeah, thats enough for your lazy ass to get up and see what they’re looking at.

…To say it’s not what you expect at all is an understatement.

The video playing has no audio, but the visual splayed out in Beomgyu’s hand is all it takes for your thighs to rub instinctively. The phone was obviously placed by the bedside, the view a little tilted, the girl with her face pressed onto the sheets as Beomgyu fucks into her mercilessly unrecognisable, the bed quite literally shaking to match his rhythm. Your face grows hot, and your throat dries, the video looks old because his hair is longer, messier, something that looked like it was from freshman year.

You’re surprised, it’s more than real. He really was going at it.

“I’m fucking her ass here.”

Holy shit. That must’ve hurt like a bitch.

“How would we know it’s Miyeon though?” Yeonjun says, eyes set on the screen.

Beomgyu forwards the video towards the end and lets it play—its the part where he picks up the phone and holds the girls head up by her hair, turning her over, capturing her face fucked out, a mix of spit and cum evidently all over, but more than that, its Miyeon’s face covered in filth.

You bite down on your lips, nervously looking at Beomgyu—who catches your stare. “What?”

You shake your head, dismissing him.

Truth is, this might’ve been the most you’ve seen from Beomgyu in this light. The light that you’ve heard plenty of, but obviously never thought you’d actually…see. Hes always been slutty, especially with him being infamous for his gross PDA on campus, but seeing it—seeing him actually fucking the light out of someone…you gulp down the lump stuck in your throat.

“You’re a freak dude.” Yeonjun says, laughing.

“But not a liar.”

“Nah you’ve yet to prove Jimins, wheres the tape?”

“You just wanna see her getting railed, touch luck bitch.” Beomgyu closes his phone making you realise you were still staring. “Hey, you good? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Beomgyu shifts his attention to you, making you nervous, shrugging his concern off.

Yeonjun speaks for you instead, a smirk plastered on his face. “She’s a virgin, basically saw something worse than a ghost.”

God, this again!

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun!”

“I’m not a virgin holy shit Yeonjun.” He mimics annoyingly high pitched and you groan.

“I’m not. I’ve had multiple boyfriends before.”

“Three.” Beomgyu says, “You’ve had three boyfriends.”

“All very long and fruitful relationships, mind you.”

Yeonjun leans back on the couch, stretching his arms behind his back and you know this is a sign that he’s going to be a little bitch about this. “How far have you went?”

“All the way.” you glare back challengily, sipping on your beer.

“Had someone nut in your ass?”

You snap your head to Beomgyu in horror, upper lip quirked. Of course he’d be curious about that. “Damn I’m taking that as a no.”

You force a smile and flip him off rightfully. The little bitch sticks his tongue out at you in retaliation and you have half the mind to not smack him.

“Have you done it without a condom?”

You narrow your eyes at that. Yeonjun’s awfully curious, way too curious for someone whos never been curious. Seriuously, he’d be the last person to care for your sex life. Maybe Beomgyu—totally Beomgyu, but not Yeonjun.

“Is this an interrogation?”

Yeonjun shrugs.

“I—okay, I haven’t. I bet you guys haven’t either.” You immediately regret saying that, it’s obvious they’ve done something so trivial. And its even made more obvious when both of them start laughing maniacally.

Your face runs red, resorting to chugging more beer.

Beomgyu rests his head on your lap suddenly and you quirk your brow down at him. “What? Your thighs are comfortable.”

You narrow your eyes at him, skeptical of what exactly he’s trying to pull until Yeonjun’s asking you questions again after calming down from his laughing fit.

“Gotten fingered?”

“Well no shit.”

Beomgyus attention is piqued, “You have?”

“How else am I supposed to…you know..get prepped?” you say, coughing around the word.

Beomgyu snorts, “You just did the most virgin thing ever oh my god.”

“That’s why I don’t believe a single thing coming out of her mouth.”

“I’m not a virgin.” you say for the umpteenth time. When they both exchange silent looks, you clear your throat. “But, I might be a little…inexperienced. That’s it though, I’m not a virgin. I’ve had sex…like twice.”

Beomgyu shoots up, making you jump in shock. “Twice?!” he shouts. He looks at you like you might’ve just led the saddest life of the entirety of human history.“And three boyfriends? The math isn’t…”

“Well one of them believed pre-marital sex would have us damned so—”

“Oh yeahh, your Christian boy Mark.” Yeonjun marvels. “That guy was a total bitch.”

Yeah, Mark. The guy you thought you’d end up marrying someday, until he decided to cheat with an anal whore as you call it. Cheating on you in broad daylight, in the apartment you shared wasn’t enough, he tried to mansplain the difference between anal virginity and vaginal virginity right after he was caught.

You shudder remembering the scene.

“A little unrelated but I always sort of thought you guys fucked.” Beomgyu starts, breaking the silence. “Like at least once.”

You sigh, he’s never letting this sexual tension bullshit thing go. If anything, Yeonjun probably saw you in the least sexual light possible. Unfortunately. “No. No we haven’t Beomgyu, we keep telling you this.”

“You” He points a finger at you, “Keep telling me this. Not him. That’s suspicious.”

Yeonjun doesn’t say anything even as both you and Beomgyu stare at him— he just mixes his soju and beer together for another shot.

You relent, speaking up. “Yeonjun tell him we haven’t fucked so he can stop insinuating that we’re freaks behind closed doors 24/7.”

Beomgyu snickers at that, still toying with the fabric of your shorts. You think it’s just out of habit.

“Yeah, we haven’t.” Yeonjun finally confirms.

You widen your eyes at Beomgyu to taunt him, getting all up on his face, nonverbally celebrating an I told you so. He just rolls his eyes at you, a dumb smile on his face.

“But I want to.”

…What.

That has both you and Beomgyu frozen, his smile slowly dropping before he turns to face Yeonjun.

Your mind works overtime trying to process whether you heard that right, did it have any hints of a joke, why couldn’t you pick up on it then? Or whether all your life you’ve read it all wrong—is it the drinks speaking or? But drunk words are sober thoughts…right? Is he just-

“Huh?” Beomgyu’s the one to ask for a clarification first.

He only shrugs, proving that none of you heard him wrong. “I wanna fuck her. I mean, you’re hot I’m not being unreasonable.”

You don’t know how to respond without sounding like an even more awkward virgin, so you stay silent, trying to make sense of it in your own head. But when you catch Beomgyu slowly nodding from your peripheral vision like what Yeonjun’s saying makes sense, you painfully nudge him.

He whines, defending himself almost immediately. “What? He’s not wrong, you’re mega hot now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut irritated, “Don’t—god, don’t ever say ‘mega hot’ again.”

Beomgyu mumbles something intelligible, something that sounded like one of his sulky protests that you just ignore as the room falls silent again. Yeonjun seems completely unbothered of the atmosphere, drinking his somaek like this was just another normal day, like he didn’t just air out something that could potentially completely flip your entire dynamic.

The tension is thick, and it suddenly feels way too hot to be here anymore but then Beomgyu speaks up again. “Do you know how to suck a dick?”

You snort, not answering as you keep your eyes on the floor.

But it’s impossible to ignore him when he keeps staring at you, almost too intensely for a question you thought was to break the tension. You look to his face, and there’s no sign of lightheartedness anywhere. He was seriously asking. “So? Do you?”

You decide to humor him, anything to get over this suffocating silence. “Sort of.”

Yeonjun chuckles, “What does ‘sort of’ mean?”

You roll your eyes, frankly irritated that he’s even speaking right now. “Sort of means I can, but I don’t know if I’m …good at it.”

He hums in understanding, nodding. “Wanna test your skills out right now?”

Your eyes bulge out, blinking rapidly as you look at Yeonjun in shock. Did he seriously just…say that? Your face grows even hotter as you stutter around a response.

But before you could even form a proper response, Beomgyu says something first, whining into his hands. “I literally cannot be the only one really fucking turned on right now.”

At his words, your eyes instinctively look down to his pants and god, he wasn’t kidding. You don’t know how you haven’t noticed until now, but the imprint of his dick building a tent in his sweatpants has you looking away like you’ve just seen the most sinful thing ever. You don’t miss the small patch of wetness at the top either. You rub your thighs together again, this time you curse your body for reacting because most of their attention was collectively on you now.

Meaning, they would inevitably notice small details.

And that they did. Yeonjun laughs, but it has laces of mean-spiritedness that has your brain frying at a faster speed. “You aren’t the only one. Our little dolls’ horny as shit too, aren’t you? Look at you rubbing your thighs for just the little bits of friction.” Yeonjun says the last part with a pout, so condescendingly, his eyes heavy lidded with what you’re sure is lust.

That gets Beomgyu’s attention, who was lost in his own dilemma, who’s close enough to touch you, to do something, and that has you more nervous than the time you had to present an unfinished slideshow to the harshest professor in your major.

Your throat is dry again, and you can’t seem to get out a word no matter how hard you try. Beomgyu licks his lips momentarily, staring at you, waiting for something, maybe a cue? You don’t know, but they’re both definitely waiting.

Beomgyu’s impatient, and shameless, if that wasn’t already obvious enough. With a rasp to his voice, he whispers, “God, I really wanna touch you right now.”

And you whisper back, like this was secret gossip you’d exchange between yourselves at recess about who was mean to who, who liked who, except this time you’re all grown up, and he’s asking to…touch you. You look behind Beomgyu, Yeonjun very much invested in what’s happening makes you on the fence. “But it’ll—it’ll get…weird. Like, between us.”

Beomgyu’s quick to counter. “No, no it won’t, I promise. Everything’s going to be the exact same. Just baby, please. Let me take care of you.”

The use of a petname again has you biting down on your lips. You search his eyes, and he looks so…desperate, the sudden switch baffling to you, so different from how you usually see him. Is this how he gets with the girls he fucks? It’s so hot, you’ve never been met with this much enthusiasm.

Your feelings heighten even more when he whispers again at your silence, “Please, I’m dying here.”

You let out a breath you were holding in, nodding, “Okay, it’s—it’s okay. You can. Touch me I mean.”

This is the absolute last thing in the world you’d ever expected, like ever. Beomgyu touching you, ministrating your breasts roughly with his big hands through your top, kneeling between your legs, kissing all over from your jaw to your neck like he hasn’t gotten action in decades. It’s like everywhere, your skin scorches, every inch—and he’s so fiery, so harsh with his squeezes and bites that you’re so unprepared for, so unprepared in fact that your eyes already brim with tears, head becoming light with too much stimulation in too little time as you feel him play with your shorts in attempt to take them off.

Suddenly, Beomgyu’s shoved off you completely, having him fall on his ass with a thud. Your eyes fly open in worry, only to be met with Yeonjun way closer to you than earlier. “Dude, calm down you’re going too fast.”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes irritably, “You know you could’ve told me that without fucking throwing me off her, right?”

“Like your ass would listen.” Yeonjun mutters, refocusing his attention to you, “Come on, get up on the couch doll, I’ll show you how its done.”

You’re hesitant. You’re okay with messing around with Beomgyu—you are because he’s the best friend that you have zero romantic feelings for, but Yeonjun? You already have this…tiny crush on him that has been fostering since the dawn of times, a light lit then dimmed for years throughout the time you’ve known him…would this not set it on a full blown out fire? Are you ready to risk getting your rocks off to find out?

Yeonjun calls your name again, snapping you out of your reverie. “If you don’t want to I’m not gonna…”

“No no, um—sorry I was just, like, thinking. Sure.” you choke out, cheeks red.

Fuck it.

You situate yourself on the couch like he instructed, looking at Beomgyu for a second in semi-panic, but that horndogs too far gone to properly communicate with you through telepathy so you’re left a puddle, a little jittery as you nervously pick at the thread of the old couch, preparing yourself for whats to come.

Yeonjun smiles, slotting himself between your legs. “I’m gonna take it slow, ‘kay? Tell me if it becomes too much and I’ll stop.”

You nod, taking a deep breath then out to calm your nerves. You don’t have to help him out with pulling your shorts down, it’s like he’s so experienced that he knows how to get around it without you doing much. Which doesn’t help to make you relax…at all. He’s experienced, and you’re not. That’s a cause of a million worries running through your mind at the moment.

The air that had felt so hot earlier, feels cool now, and you shudder a little. “You’re drenched doll, that’s cute.”

Beomgyu finally sits himself next to you, hand on his crotch, slowly rubbing it out as he stares at what Yeonjun sees, craning his neck to get a good look. And you feel…so exposed, it makes your ears red with a mix of shame and arousal as you squeeze your eyes shut.

You jolt a little when you feel his tongue poking at your entrance through your panties—he’s slow as he licks up your slit, soaking your underwear more and more.

“Any of your boyfriends ever eat you out?” Beomgyu asks, hand squeezing his cock through his sweats, before having the genius idea of replacing his with yours—his warm hands resting on yours, guiding you to press down harder on his boner. As if he’s showing you—making you feel how big he is.

You shake your head to his question, and he airs out a chuckle. God, you really want to slap yourself for finding that so attractive. “Of course. Might as well be a real virgin.”

You want to retort back, you really do, because god forbid Beomgyu have the last word, but it's impossible when Yeonjun hooks his finger to push your underwear to the side because you're a goner, a goner the minute you feel his warm breath on your skin, and even worse when you feel his tongue lapping at your core, the direct contact making you gasp out a moan, jolting you awake, clearing your drunk daze.

"Yeonjun, Yeonjun shit-" you don't mean to tighten your grip on Beomgyu, but you do in response to Yeonjuns stimulation which has him hiss, bucking into your touch.

"Do that again. Harder. Touch me baby, yeah, just like that." He babbles, holding onto your wrist, groaning when you oblige, wrapping your hand on his clothed shaft and squeezing the base.

Yeonjun looks at you through lidded eyes, his hands firmly keeping your legs apart, nose brushing against your clit every so often to tease before he finally decides to flatten his tongue against it, finger prodding at your entrance at the same time, making you inexpectantly arch your back, moaning. "F-fuck Jjun!"

You could feel the smirk, the cockiness radiating off him— it oozes even, it's so evident he likes this dynamic, you so reactionary to each little thing he does.

Beomgyu helps you palm his dick before he finally relents, too horny out of his mind, shoving your hand down his pants, making you feel his hot dick, so sticky and wet, it's lewd. "'Move your hand baby, c'monnn. Good girl." He groans, trying to guide you to a speed he finds fitting.

You start getting the hang of it, your hand jerking off his dick without help even as you're practically dumbed out with Yeonjun's tongue working at your sex, trying to purposefully make you lose your mind.

“Pussy so good doll, so good.” his words muffle against your core and it sends a vibration that has your pace falter.

Suddenly, Yeonjun detaches, making you feel terribly empty, and horrible because you were sure you were close. Before you could complain, your eyes widen at him unbuttoning his jeans, dropping them to the floor to have his cock flinging out of his boxers. He gives it a couple strokes, breathing heavy as he stares at your pussy. Wet with his spit, messy. He groans, biting his lips raw and you’ve just never felt so much as a prey until now. “Gonna fill you up soon, don’t worry doll.”

“Pay attention to me too,” Beomgyu whines, kissing your neck again, the space under your earlobe, his teeth grazing against your skin, just begging to have your attention. “Unfair if it’s only him.” he breathes, kissing and kissing and kissing, until he decides to move up to your lips, taking you up a wind as you jerk his dick off faster.

His whines and mewls melt into the sloppiness of the kiss and god is it the hottest thing ever, shit.

Yeonjun basically breaks the kiss by pushing Beomgyu off of you again, and if you had half the mind to think, you would’ve caught the irritation radiating off Beomgyu at Yeonjuns constant cock blocking.

You can’t think now, not when Yeonjun’s lining his dick up with your hole, feeling his hot tip prodding and your pussy fluttering around nothing to suck him in. “Ready? Relax yourself so it’ll feel good, ‘kay?”

You nod, humming.

“Words princess.”

“I’m—I’m ready Jjunie.”

He gives you a crooked grin, fingertips digging into the plush of your hips.

You try, you really do, you try giving them both an experience but the more Yeonjun pushes himself in you, the slower your hand becomes until you finally let go, breathing heavy at the inexplicable feeling of just…fullness. When he’s flush and snug against your core, completely inside you, he relishes, he stays there, eyes fluttering closed with his face so, so close to yours.

And he whispers to you, words Beomgyu can’t possible hear even if he wishes to, and even words you could’ve missed if you weren’t so in tune with every single sense that you’re feeling right now.

“Wish he wasn’t here when I could finally have you.”

You’re driven over the edge, not even given the time to process, before he’s drilling his dick into you—in then back, slowly before he’s building up to snapping his hips, having you gasp in shock at each thrust. You let the stray tear run down, hell, at this point you’re giving all autonomy of your body to the two boys right now, you’re not in control of anything anymore.

“Tight, so tight and warm,” he groans, getting faster, “Shoulda prepped you more, huh? Fuckin’ tighter than a virgin, can barely move.” He laughs breathy.

You just nod, nod at whatever filthy shit he says, tightening your grip on the couch, squeezing your eyes shut at how the pain just bleeds into the pleasure. You’ve never had it like this with your past boyfriends, it never felt like this.

Suddenly, you feel something hot poking at your cheek which spurs you to open your eyes. Your eyes damn near almost bulge out at Beomgyu’s size, cock insistently trying to move past your lips.

“Want your mouth, please, fuck.”

Can you even take that in your mouth?

He doesn’t wait for your contemplation, that’s not Beomgyu’s thing. He does it anyway, managing to slide his dick in your mouth, not even letting you get used to it like Yeonjun had even when he’s a lot bigger, pushing all the way in. He throws his head back, groaning curses as you gag around his length, breathing restricted.

“God you’re so hot like this, princess. Taking my cock so well,” he growls, moving his hips to fuck your mouth. Your eyes water, burning as the taste of him overpowers your senses— all of that paired with Yeonjun’s rhythm getting rougher and more frantic has you lose yourself in ecstasy you don’t think you can handle.

You think you might just faint.

“Have you always been like this? So good at sucking cock, slutty throat just waiting to be stuffed with dick?” Beomgyu rambles filth, losing himself faster than Yeonjun, looking down at you with so much hunger. You return his gaze, blinking up at him innocently, as if to disagree. You’re not slutty, you aren’t.

But that seems to spur him on a completely different direction, like something snapped inside him, cursing loudly as he ruthlessly starts fucking into your mouth. Your mind clouds, dizziness setting in as you feel Yeonjun attach his lips to your nipple through your flimsy top, sucking harshly, making a mess of your shirt with his spit.

You garble around Beomgyu’s dick, trying to say something but it only comes out intelligible and like complete nonsense, it’s humiliating.

“God, you’re sucking me in so greedily, want me to fill you up with my cum so bad, huh?”

Yeonjun slaps your ass and you jolt again, snot and mascara running down your face. He starts kneeding your cheeks, snapping into you rougher, and somehow deeper, you fucking lose it. “You want it so bad, right? Say something baby, or I won’t give it to you.”

You nod, mouth still stuffed with Beomgyu’s cock, who he isn’t intent on stopping any time soon.

It’s enough for Yeonjun you guess because before you know it, you feel hot substance shoot up, filling you to the brim with his cum, still pumping it in even as your orgasm washes over you. You’re beyond overstimulated, especially when Beomgyu cums around the same time, his hot load forcing its way down your throat.

He holds your head against his abdomen, groaning the more he defills you. “Fuck if you do that I might just fall for you,” he growls, voice down octaves, fixating his eyes on how your throat gulps down his cum like it’s water at the Sahara. The taste is so strong, you start coughing up some of it out when his dick flops out of your mouth sticky, finally regaining your breath, gasping for air in large amounts, your cunt spilling Yeonjun’s seed onto the couch slowly, dribbling down to the floor to make a mess.

Beomgyu suddenly pushes Yeonjun out of the way to slot himself between your legs, kissing at your pussy.

“Beomgyu, don’t, can’t—stop, too much-” you try reasoning but he doesn’t listen, that brat. He just starts going at it, lapping at the cum spilling, his lips glistening with the wetness, alternating between kissing and licking your cunt. “‘Course you can baby, you can take it.”

You bite down hard on your lips, lightheaded as you look down at the man ravaging your pussy and cleaning you up at the same time.

To hell with that ‘nothing’s going to change’ bullshit promise, something definitely changed tonight and you can’t put your finger around what.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the heavy weight of guilt (part one)

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, age gap (reader is 25 though), married!rafe (but not to reader), aged up!rafe, cheating, cheating fetishization, female receiving oral, brief mentions of pregnancy but reader is on birth control, recorded sex, semi dub con in sense of rafe doesnt know hes being recorded

part one / part two

“tell me again.” you moan out, back arching off the bed as rafe pounds into you, as if the act isn't enough.

“you're better than her.” rafe grunts out. there's no point denying it, not when he keeps coming back for more, abandoning his wife to make dinner for herself why he claims to be busy, but the only thing keeping him away is burying himself in your cunt.

“tell me.” you continue, eyes squeezed close as his cock stretches you.

“you're tighter than her.” rafe knows what you want to hear. anything that confirms his feelings for you and not his pleasant wife.

“i know.” you moan out. it's not the first time you asked rafe, and it certainly won't be the last.

“ill leave her for you.” it's not the truth, and both of you know it. the only way that rafe would ever leave is if he gets exposed. he can't ruin the perfect image of his life, the family he poses with for christmas cards and kids he sends away to daycare or boarding school so he doesn't have to grapple with the fact that they're actually his.

“yeah?” you smile up at him, your eyes wicked. “leave her so you can fuck my young pussy every night?”

in truth, you're not even that young. you're 25 years old, but it's a big gap between rafe.

you're certain that's why his wife would never suspect him to be cheating. probably thinks he's past his prime and can't get it up easily, but that's just when he tries to sleep with her. when with you, rafes hunger is insatiable.

“cum in me. make me pregnant like your stupid wife.” you beg out. you're on birth control, but the thought of stopping, of refusing to swallow that little pill, has you excited.

“fuck!” rafe shouts out, spurring his hips even faster, pounding into you until his cock swells and releases, ropes of cum spurting inside of you, warning you from the inside out as rafe grunts your name repeatedly.

he's worried about slipping up if he sleeps with his wife. imagining he was fucking you instead of her. maybe turning her face down so her mop of brown hair is the only thing he can see, reminding him of your soft curls he loves to tug on.

“eat me out.” you tell rafe, commanding him. he may be older, but you're the one in charge of the situation, the one that seduced him into sleeping with you in the first place.

he felt so guilty after that he almost drank himself to death, but still came crawling back a week later, dick painfully hard.

rafe pulls out and plugs your hole with his finger, just like he used to do to his wife when trying to get her pregnant, but only because as soon as her tummy swelled it meant he could stop sleeping with her.

the marriage wasn't a completely loveless one, but they both knew what joining the two most powerful families in the outer banks meant. at least as far as he knows, his wife has been faithful throughout.

his finger inside you is different. as he slides to his stomach between your legs, it keeps his cum from dripping out, but more importantly, allows him to quirk his finger up and press against the gummy spot that has your eyes widening as you gasp.

rafe smiles up at you briefly, the sounds of your pleasure like the sweetest melody, before diving into your pussy.

he misses your taste on his tongue whenever he has to spend a few nights away as he obsessively licks and sucks at your clit. he's learned what you like best, what makes you cum the hardest and fastest.

moans of his name fall from your mouth, louder than you normally would to make sure they're picked up as you reach a hand down, pushing through his messy hair, still slightly wet with sweat from the exertion of fucking you.

rafe looks up at you, your bare chest moving up and down with every heavy breath, pert nipples on display as your mouth falls open as he sucks at your clit.

“close.” you warn, feeling his finger inside of you move even faster.

only a few more strokes until you let out a loud shout, cumming to screams of his name as rafe licks you gently through your high, feeling your clit pulse against his tongue.

rafe pulls away quickly with a sigh, always feeling the heavy weight of guilt seconds after getting you off.

“you should just leave her, rafe.” you sigh as he stands from your bed, quickly grabbing his clothes to get back to his house.

“i can't. it's not that simple.” rafe says. you've been through it all before. the prenup, the status, the judgment. all reasons he can't leave.

“fine.” you huff, standing up as he heads towards your door, not bothering to get redressed yourself. “don't bother coming back then.”

rafe looks at you with hurt in his eyes, partially for you and partially to his wife, knowing it's not fair to either of you.

“hey.” rafe says softly, pressing a kiss to your lips. “ill see you at my lunch break tomorrow?”

“fine.” you say again, prompting another kiss from rafe before he flees.

you wait until you hear the front door open and shut to turn to your dresser, picking up the teddy bear and looking into the hidden camera in its eye with a smile on your face.

“sorry, mrs. cameron.” you say with a dark chuckle.

[knowyourplace-fool]

halo! new follower here! i like your yandere!ex!bully!Eren x Reader ♡_♡ can I ask for a continuation of it? where y/n is on her pregnant phase and up until the child was finally born. like how would Eren treat her? bcs ik for sure y/n would drop out on her college T_T

⚠️: NON CON, Forced Pregnancy, yandere!eren...

DARK CONTENT! DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERED EASILY!!

-> sorry for the wait, life's been hectic

-> yall got me fucked up. The eren smut tag be so dry nowadays

-> part 1

The last few days, you've been feeling uneasy

Eren's been avoiding you ever since that night he stormed into your house and fucked you unconscious

You desperately want to talk to someone about your feelings but can't due to:

1. lack of friends... scratch that, you don't have any friends

2. Your mother doesn't give a flying fuck about you

3. Eren... The person who is causing you to feel this way

You can't put your finger on it, but it's a gut feeling that something bad is going to happen

Nonetheless, you can't just wallow in your bed all day so you get up to get ready for your 12pm lecture

Everything seemed normal until you started to feel nauseous upon your arrival at school

You thought maybe it was because you hadn’t ate anything in the morning, so it’s just empty stomach nausea

But no.

The nausea was then followed with a pang of dizziness and before you knew it, you collapsed onto the floor.

Waking up in a hospital bed and being met with emerald eyes was not ideal

It was unfair how pretty he was. How could someone look like a prince from a fairy tale be so ruthless and cold?

His hand reached to touch your cheek, gently caressing it. You can’t remember the last time he touched you so gently like this.

“I’m gonna go get the nurse to make sure you’re stable.” He spoke is a calm, gentle tone. Despite all the shit he’s put you through, you couldn’t help but feel safe, wanted and loved when he spoke to you in that moment.

He left the room and you took the chance to sit upright and look at your surroundings. There was a fruit platter, a teddy bear and some flowers on the table.

How long have you been out for??

Panic began to settle in, but luckily Eren and his father walked into the room. Right, his father was a doctor.

After some small talk, he did a quick checkup and said that there’s nothing to be concerned about. He got up and paged a nurse before leaving you and Eren alone again.

“Am I able to go home now? Your dad said I’m fine.”

“Not quite yet. There’s something that we need to tell you.”

The door opens and a machine is pushed into the room. The nurse wheeled in a sonogram?

“What do you need that for?”

“To check on how your little bean is doing sweetheart.”

It looked like a vampire sucked all the blood out of you. You went pale. Is this what your gut was warning you about?

Instantly, you begin freaking out. Thrashing around, trying to get up and away from this hospital, away from this city, away from this life and more importantly, away from him.

Eren holds you down on the bed and tried his best to keep you calm. He knew your reaction wouldn’t be pleasant, but you couldn’t possibly despise him this much, right?

“What is she talking about? I- I can’t be pregnant! I’m too young. Please god, this is not happening. Why me?” You begin sobbing, as Eren holds you close to him, sitting on your bed and pulling your body onto his.

“Could you give us a moment please” eren cleared his throat and eyed the nurse as she left and closed the door behind her.

It was like a switch went off in him and he grabbed your jaw tightly, pulling your face close to his.

“Stop fucking crying. You’re embarrassing me. You’re the one who fucking caused me to do this. You kept trying to leave me without a reason. Even though I pleaded with you to stay, to give me another chance to fix my mistakes. But you didn’t. I know the reason why you broke up with me is to whore around. Like your mother who doesn’t even know who your dad is. Now unlike your whore mother, this baby has a father. And I have no plans on abandoning my child because I don’t want them to turn out like you. So sit up straight and let her take the ultrasound. You’re ruining what’s supposed to be a happy moment for first time parents.”

He roughly let go of your jaw and called the nurse back in while you sat upright again and wiped the tears away.

Eren lifted your gown to expose your stomach and pulled up the blanket so you weren’t exposed down there. The cool gel was spread on your stomach and before you knew it, a small bean was presented on the sonogram screen.

Your heart began to soften up after realizing that you were growing a baby in your stomach.

But the tears wouldn’t stop. You ended up turning away from the screen and closing your eyes, trying to figure out what you’re going to do.

After the nurse left to print out the pictures, Eren helped you get dressed so you could finally leave this depressing place.

The car ride was silent. You had the bouquet of flowers resting on your lap while you played with the ultrasound photos with your fingers

You noticed eren was headed back to his place so you cleared your throat and asked him to drop you off at your place.

“I’m not gonna leave you alone. Not when you’re pregnant with my child. We’re gonna be staying at my place so I can take care of you. We also have to search for a house to settle in before the baby’s arrival.”

“Eren, all of that isn’t necessary. I’m still in my first trimester.”

“Even more reason for you to stay with me. The first trimester is always the riskiest. And I’m not taking that risk.”

“I can’t just up and leave everything, Eren. My lease isn’t up until July and I have a job too.”

“I don’t care. I’ll pay whatever I have to, and break the lease.”

Panic began to set in

Tears started forming in your eyes and the palms of your hands became clammy

The idea of being tied to Eren for the rest of your life made your heart pound in your ears and your stomach churn

You’d be signing your freedom away

You wouldn’t be able to go to school, or have a job

You’d be stuck at home as a house wife, like he’s always wanted

You couldn’t let that happen

no no no no no

It was a stupid, impulsive decision

But you were desperate to get out of his car and stay away from his place

So you blurted,

“What if it’s not yours?!”

It was the straw that broke the camel’s back

I know I didn’t answer this request to the full extent, but tbh if I did, you’d have to wait an additional 10 months.

[chilling-seavey]

In The Middle (gr63 + pg10)

↳ A/N What came over me when I wrote this?? Nothing but a dire need to want content of my two favourite men in my favourite decade tbh. Entirely self serving but I hope you enjoy ;) Would love to hear your thoughts

↳ Summary: The summer of 1985 had your time filled with two handsome men who, with each, you had a non-exclusive friends-with-benefits relationship. They were completely unaware of the other’s existence in your life but that’s what added to the thrill. Once you faced a few close calls where they almost discovered your cheeky little secret, you decided to lay all your cards on the table and see if you could have the best of both worlds on the same night

↳ Pairings: Friends with Benefits!George x Fem!Reader, Friends with Benefits!Pierrex Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 31.5k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, drinking and intoxication, smoking, MMF threesome, double penetration, anal, protected sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), face fucking, male masturbation, fingering, finger sucking, spanking, spitting, face slapping, hair pulling, degradation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dumbification, nipple play, restraining, choking, edging, praise, dirty talk, overstimulation, taking pictures, subdrop.

London, 1985

“Fuck.” Pierre’s low breathless chuckle against your cheek fell warm across your flushed skin. 

Nestled in the crook of his arm amidst his tangled bed sheets, you reached a hand up to brush through the side of his frazzled hair and you pulled his lips onto yours for an off-centered kiss. With his arm around you, he gently rested his thumb against your jaw to guide you in again for more, easily parting your lips with his own to mould into sloppy tongue-led kisses. The sounds of your laboured breaths filled his warm bedroom, wrapped up together to linger on the last few seconds of your euphoria. 

“Holy shit.” you smiled out of his filthy kiss, turning your head to the ceiling straight above you and letting your hand rest on his chest, right over his rapidly beating heart. 

“Uh huh.” Pierre smirked, reaching his free hand up to rake his fingers through his hair. 

He was naked at your side and his sweaty skin was pressed right up against yours, limbs entangled in whatever twisted position you had both fallen into once you finished your usual routine of lust without love. It was textbook by then and after a few seconds to catch your breath, you were shifting under his arms and his bedsheets and sitting up. 

He easily let you get up and you traipsed across his bedroom floor to find your clothes that were scattered on various surfaces. You started to dress in the familiarity of Pierre’s poster lined bedroom, snatching your bra off his silver stereo that was sitting atop his dark wood dresser and finding your underwear on his window ledge. From his bed, Pierre watched you dress with his arms tucked behind his head and his sheets only barely covering his lap, his bottom lip captured by his teeth. His eyes followed you as you walked back and forth to find your clothes one article at a time and it brought a small smile to your face. 

“Take a picture,” you jabbed teasingly as you buttoned your jeans, “it’ll last longer.” 

“Don’t tempt me.” Pierre cocked his head in the direction of the small table beside his bed that held a Nikon camera at the ready. 

“Need I remind you of the various Polaroid pictures I have already given you?” you countered smoothly behind the fabric of your blouse as you pulled it over your head. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Pierre tisked, “You’re like my own little centerfold.” 

“Only yours,” you smiled back at him as you knelt up on the end of his bed and then crawled towards him. Then, as he held his hands out to you to guide you onto his lap, you added cheekily, “for today.”

Pierre’s mouth fell slack into a shocked and yet entirely amused gape and yet his blue eyes shone in the late night light of the city streaking in through his window, only breaking into a smile at the soft giggle that fell from your lips. His hands squeezed your hips before warning you lightly, his rich French accent stirring warmth in your stomach, “I don’t think after the way I had you screaming my name not even two minutes ago you have any right to claim that you’re not all mine, cherie.”

You just smiled down at him from your rightful spot on his lap and you pulled his face in for a few messy open mouthed kisses. After a few seconds, you pulled away from his lips and gave his cheek a little smack, “I gotta go.”

“Okay,” Pierre gave your bum another slap as you climbed off his bed, “Get the fuck outta here.”

You draped your purse over your shoulder and gave him another passing smile, “I’ll call you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

And then you let yourself out of his flat and out onto the night stained streets of London. 

It was a routine you knew well since running into Pierre that one spring afternoon in the downtown shops. He was a stranger then but one who matched your banter easily and had impeccable fashion sense and you found yourselves navigating the aisles and skimming through the racks together. He spoke about his job and how he moved to London from France for a job in the motorsports industry - sending words your way that you didn’t quite understand like ‘aerodynamics’ and ‘transmission’ - and he was trying to network with any of the local Formula 1 teams. It was all quite impressive, but maybe he had been laying it on a little thick. When he had finally invited you back to his flat for drinks, you had silently anticipated how the night was going to end. 

From that night on, it seemed that your every interaction ended with the two of you in a mess of sheets and sweaty limbs, either in his bed or yours (and the odd time in the back of his car). It all just seemed to work. He made it clear right off the bat that he was by no means looking for a relationship to which you easily agreed; no-strings-attached, no emotions, and completely non-exclusive. The two of you promised to keep your sexual encounters as nothing more than the fulfilling of a natural humanistic desire. And, God, was he good at it. 

You swore no other man could make you come as hard and as many times as Pierre could. 

Well, maybe no other man except for George.

George was your prized possession you kept in your back pocket, a sworn secret, and you counted your lucky stars that somehow you had run into each other because almost every girl in England - and maybe even all over Europe - would have killed to be in your position. 

The world knew him as one-half of the infamous Williams Formula 1 team, while the tabloids - and you - knew him as someone completely separate from the sweet smiled persona that he portrayed in interviews. Headlines were often plastered with various rumours of what George got up to behind the scenes; what girl did he have under his arm tonight? Surprisingly, none of the tabloids got their claws into the existence of you yet. 

You couldn’t even remember how you met George although you were sure it was that club in the depths of London that he always liked to pop by when he could. It was some heat-of-the-moment drunken night that ended up with you taking him back to your apartment until the early hours of the morning, the entire thing a bit of a haze. Neither of you ever really spoke to it either but somehow, when the time was right and he was between race weekends, you’d end up hooking up every chance you could. Oftentimes it was at your apartment (due to him still living with his parents when back in England, regardless of his high standing in the motorsports world) or - in rare cases - the bathroom of whatever club you were attending. You were sure he had other girls in other locations every time he would end up racing somewhere around the world but you didn’t mind it in the slightest. He kept coming back to you, after all. 

The summer of 1985 claimed to be your shameless era of this rotating duo of men at your door and you managed to balance them expertly. Although both relations were without the label of being exclusive, you still enjoyed the thrill of not telling one about the other. By mid-summer, you were probably getting dick almost every second night on a consistent basis, and you never felt better about it. It was a routine that worked effortlessly for all three of you to the point where it was almost easy for you to keep Pierre and George from being aware of each other. 

Pierre would often call you up one night to invite you over as his apartment seemed to be your usual go-to. It was often once he got home from work and needed some sort of distraction from the chaos of the day. He was definitely worth the trek to the adjacent neighbourhood. Pierre never called you over two nights in a row - he never wanted to look clingy and desperate, of course - but that just made for the perfect time to seek out George at his favourite downtown club. 

George would never tire of seeing you, even unexpectedly. He lived a more spur-of-the-moment lifestyle than Pierre and that reflected into your so-called relationship. He was more of the kind to just show up at your apartment unannounced, sunglasses on in some weak attempt to hide his identity from any passersby. 

That being said, maybe you shouldn’t have been surprised to see the lanky brunette leaning against the brick wall of your building when you turned the corner that evening. He was bathed in the warmth of the street light and it cast his long shadow across the sidewalk and onto the empty road. At the sight of you, he pushed himself away from the wall and tipped his sunglasses down his nose despite the late hour it was. 

“Hey.” he said coolly. 

“Hey yourself.” you answered with a faint smile as you drifted past him to the front door of your flat. 

“Where were you?” he asked. 

“Does it matter?” you countered cheekily, stepping up onto the front stoop to have a bit of height over him and you leaned on the stone railing. 

George shrugged, “No.” 

“I was out with a friend.” you fibbed before turning it back to him, “Have you been waiting out here long?” 

Another shrug, although his passiveness was brushed aside by the way he was staring at your lips, “Not really.” 

You obviously knew his intentions for being there and especially at such a late hour but after the few months you had known George, you came to realize the fun in the game of it all. Leaning into the railing a little more, you were even closer to him, tauntingly close, and his face naturally turned towards yours. 

“Well,” you whispered, eyeing the way he licked his lips as if anticipating your kiss, “you’re gonna be waiting longer. I’m too tired tonight.”

And then you stood up straight again and stepped up another stair as George sighed heavily and slumped against the stone railing. He stared up at you with playful disappointment but it was a game you both played well - it was the thrill of the chase. You found it fun to string George along a little - the race car driver who got everybody he pointed at - whereas you could never say no to Pierre. They were so alike in a lot of ways and yet so different all in the same. 

Your little fib wasn’t entirely a lie since Pierre really did wear you out that night and you couldn’t imagine putting out your best work for the second time in a few short hours…but George didn’t need to know that detail. 

“Come on,” George tisked and pulled his sunglasses off all the way to give you that sweet blue-eyed stare under the porch light of your building, “I came all the way out here.”

“And you’re going to be going all the way back.” you whispered down to him from two steps up.

You stared at each other for a few seconds before George sighed and retreated a pace or two, fiddling with his sunglasses in his hands. He glanced at you again, giving you a once over, as he slid a hand in the front pocket of his plaid trousers under the long matching jacket. That look he gave you was the same one he used on you to get you to take him home that first night, but you weren’t budging. 

“I’ll call you.” you told him the same thing you had told Pierre, keeping your proud upper hand. “You at Tramps tomorrow night?” 

At the mention of his usual club, George smiled to the sidewalk with a small shake of his head in disbelief, his soft brown curls dancing around the nape of his neck as he did so, before he was looking back at you, “Of course.” 

“‘Kay.” you took another step up, “Then I’ll see you there.” 

He watched you reach your door before calling out, “And what am I supposed to do tonight?”

Standing in the doorway of your modest building, you replied down to him with a cheeky smile that seemed to only get you into beautiful trouble, “You have those Polaroids I gave you. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” 

And then you disappeared inside, leaving him alone on the dark London streets. 

As usual and as promised, you picked out George in the crowded club the following night, amongst the haze of cigarette smoke and chaos of drunken strangers and thudding music. Having put him off the previous night, you didn’t waste a second before bee-lining right for him in the centre of the packed dance floor with sweaty bodies moving as a singular mass. You spent the better part of three hours together there, drinking and dancing, and wasting your time at a table out of the direct noise of the music kissing rather than talking. Sure, he had a public image to withhold, but when you got your hands on each other, it was to hell with that. 

It was nearing 2am when you finally stumbled out of the club together and out onto the eerily vacant streets of Northern London. A few other venues along the main roads housed little pockets of lively nightlife but outside of the drunken crowds, the world felt eerily silent. The ringing of your ears when faced with the silence out of the hours spent in the club was familiar and the alcohol in your veins had you a giggling mess as your non-exclusive ‘date’ had you backed up against the brick wall around the side of the building. 

You had mumbled something about asking if you should go back to your place as he trailed sloppy kisses down your neck and, in the haze that surrounded you, you could barely make out his slurred reply being something along the lines of your apartment being too far. But then suddenly you were walking up the front steps of his family home at 3:00 in the morning and he was hushing your drunken giggles as he unlocked the door and pulled you inside by the hand. This was uncharted territory. 

The black and white cat sitting on the stairs in the moonlight meowed at you on your way past but you paid no mind, trying to focus all your tipsy attention on not making too much noise and waking his family. Turning left at the top of the narrow staircase, George’s room was directly ahead and he led you inside quickly before shutting his bedroom door effortlessly silently as if he had been sneaking in late like this for months. 

His childhood bedroom felt almost too small for him at twenty-five and you swore his entire room was the equivalent of a closet, barely able to fit his single bed in the corner by the window and a small dresser by the one-door closet directly in front of the entry. The motorsports posters and photographs that covered the walls were not much unlike Pierre’s bedroom too although George had the addition of a shelf of karting trophies and various framed pictures from his race wins as a boy. That being said, the way he decorated his room was the least of your concerns as, like usual, your attention was taken to each other and the urgency that came with the ridding of clothes. 

In your clumsy, drunken, hazy state, you barely remembered the way the moonlight bathed the small room as you rode him on his narrow bed. His hand was clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet as you always had a tendency to get loud and this was no longer within the privacy of your apartment. His parents were asleep in the adjacent room at that, right through the thin wall that the bed was up against. 

The riskiness of it ended up being a perfect reason for George to smother your face in his pillow as he took you from behind, his hand tangled in your hair to pin you down face first so the uncontrollable whimpers that fell from your lips were muffled by the down-filled pillow. With your arms wrapped around it tightly, you gladly let him have his way with you, unbothered and unconcerned by the faint creak of the mattress and the obvious slick slap of your sweaty skin together. The wonder of how loud you actually got would be something to be dealt with the following day. 

You never usually stayed the night with either of your two guys - it was just easier to leave quickly to avoid the hassle of any lingering feelings or small talk. But, with it being nearly 4am and in an unfamiliar part of town now, your drunken and exhausted body ended up falling asleep in seconds under George’s arm, smushed up close in his small single bed. 

Come morning, a knock at the bedroom door startled you awake and George stirred from behind you, shifting under the sheets with a sleepy sigh against your shoulder and his arm stayed heavy around your middle. 

“Time to get up, pumpkin.” a lady’s voice said from the hallway, “You don’t want to be late today!” 

George rolled away from you - only slightly to keep from falling off the narrow bed - and he directed to the door, “Yeah, Mum, I’m up.” 

“I’m making breakfast when you’re ready!”

Her receding footsteps left the hallway and headed down the stairs and you giggled softly even as George groaned faintly and pulled his arm back to rub his tired eyes. 

You teased quietly, “Morning, pumpkin.”

“Fuck off.” he swatted your shoulder in half-annoyance before asking quietly, “Why are you still here anyway?”

“You let me stay, don’t you remember?” you tisked, shuffling over to face him instead of the wall, and you tucked your hands under your cheek, “What a shit host you are.”

“Alright-” he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling at your teasing. 

“I’m such a good fuck that it got you turning domestic or something.” you shrugged. “Wanted a little snuggle last night.”

George looked over at you close at his side, “I’d kick you to the curb right now if my family weren’t awake and around.”

You knew he was just playing and so you reached over to ruffle through his messy dark brown hair, “Momma doesn’t know her perfect racer son is bringing home groupies?”

George grabbed your wrist to stop you, reminding you seriously, “You’re not a groupie.”

With a stagnant smile across your face, you just stared at him and let your hand settle down against his bare chest, “What am I then?”

He kept your eye contact for a few seconds before finally answering, “A really great friend.”

“Emphasis on really.” you chuckled. 

“Yeah,” George laughed lightly, “Such a lovely pal.” 

“Best buds.” you added. 

The two of you were still laying right up close together with how small his bed really was, legs a little intertwined and arms having no choice but to go around bodies in the limited space you had. Your hushed conversation was easier in such close proximity - especially as you could hear his father walking around in his room through the wall. You certainly didn’t want to get caught. 

“Are you back at Tramps tonight?” George asked you, as if he were already impatient to hook up again even before you left.

“I might. Will you?”

“Yeah. After Silverstone.”

“Oh, right, that’s today.”

“Yeah, and we have to be at the circuit an hour early for additional preparations. Anything to try and get a win. We haven’t won once this year yet.”

“I’m sure you will today.” you assured him easily. 

George couldn’t answer you before the footsteps coming up the stairs captured his attention and with speedy reflexes and a very strong awareness of his immediate family, he pulled the blankets right over you just as his mother came walking right in. 

“Mum, do you ever knock?” he snapped. 

She ignored him with a casual, “I just finished ironing your suit for today. I don’t want you creasing it before you have to go so please be cautious.”

“Okay.” George huffed, bunching his sheets to try to make it look like it was only him in his tiny bed as he watched her hang his plaid suit and matching trousers on the hook on the back of his door, “Thanks.”

“Who were you talking to?” she asked. 

“Myself.” he answered stiffly, “Bye.”

“Alright, alright. Hurry up, now.”

At the sound of the bedroom door closing again, George removed the sheets from over your head and you bit back your grin at him at the close call. 

But he just rolled his eyes with a huff and pressed the heels of his palms to his forehead, “I seriously need my own flat.”

George managed to sneak you out while his family was busy sitting down for breakfast in the dining room, giving you the chance to hurry down the stairs together and he ushered you right out the front door. You just managed to give him a fleeting kiss and a whispered wish of good luck before his father was calling for him from across the quaint house. Without a look back, you walked down his driveway in last night’s dress with your heels in your hand, turning the corner onto the sidewalk to head for the train station in the centre of his neighbourhood. 

It wasn’t long before you were back in your building and as soon as you unlocked your front door and stepped inside, your attention was drawn to the ringing of your phone. You hurried to shut your door and your keys and shoes were dropped on the kitchen counter on your way towards the corded phone on the wall. Snatching the receiver off the hook, you answered with a quick, “Hello?”

“Hey,” the voice replied, crackling slightly through the connection, “It’s Pierre.” 

He usually called you but this time it managed to take you by surprise, especially since it was morning and he only ever called after work. Not to mention you had just returned from George’s in last night’s dress in some sort of walk of shame, desperate to keep your secret as your second lover called so unexpectedly. The recent overlaps between your two men were getting a little too close for comfort. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. “You don’t usually call this early.”

“I came by your place last night but you weren’t home.”

“Oh? Sorry, I was out with a friend.” you half-fibbed, resting back against your counter, “I didn’t expect you to want to see me two nights in a row.” 

Pierre chuckled softly through the phone and the warm, low sound had your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He countered your statement smoothly, “Why not?”

“It’s not your usual routine. I’d like to think I know you well enough by now.” 

“I didn’t think I had a usual routine.” 

“You do. And you never just drop by. What changed last night then?”

“Well, I was in your neighbourhood and I couldn’t stop thinking about the other night so I thought I’d try my luck and stop by and see if you were available.” 

“I see.” you smiled across your kitchen, “You were thinking about me that much?”

“Oh, come on.” Pierre laughed lightly, “Don’t be coy. You know very well that I think about you a lot. You make it very difficult to not think about you.”

You pursed your smiling lips and pressed your luck, “Well, what exactly were you thinking about?”

“Look at you; wanting the dirty details at not even eleven in the morning.” he tisked through the phone. “I don’t think I want to tell you after you basically stood me up last night.”

“Oh, please!” you laughed, “You can’t call it ‘standing you up’ when we didn’t even have plans. Should my days and nights revolve around waiting by the phone for you, Pierre Gasly?”

“Oui.” he answered cockily, the smile evident in his gentle voice, “Don’t I make it worth it?”

You sighed at the steamy memories that flashed before your eyes and the thoughts of the previous night with him lingered at the forefront of your mind too, smiling through your answer, “Yeah.”

“I can make it worth it tonight too, if you’re available.” 

“Mhm?” you turned to lean forward over the countertop on your elbows, falling into a lustful haze over what he was insinuating. But then the awareness that you had already promised George your attention that night halted your dreamy state before you could get too ahead of yourself. Your eyebrows narrowed for a moment in thought as you stared at the kitchen backsplash, debating your options, torn between two. 

Pierre spoke in your silence, “Is that a yes?” 

You played a little hard to get with him, loving the game and the chase that came along with it, “Are you not at work right now?”

“I’m alone in the lunchroom. Had to sneak away to call you…think my balls might explode if I don’t fucking see you tonight.”

“This sounds like blackmail.”

“Just the truth.” he teased, “Miss you so bad. Miss your body so bad.”

“Is that so?”

“Let me see you. I’ll make it so worth your while.”

You liked playing a little hard to get but you knew that regardless of what you said or did, by the end of it, you always managed to get what you wanted. You stayed silent for a brief moment, pondering, offering him a soft ‘hm’ in thought that had him sighing exasperatedly through the phone. The idea that rose in your mind brought a sly smile to your face and you twirled the spiraled phone cord around your fingers as you offered to him, “Did you want to come to the club with me tonight?”

“Oh- yeah, that could be fun.” Pierre answered, slightly taken aback by your suggestion to spend time with him outside of bed. 

“Yeah?” you licked away your grin, “Should we say 9:30 then? Tramps…do you know it?”

“Yeah, a few of my mates have been to that joint. They say it’s good.”

“It is.”

“I can stop by your place for 9:30 and we can head over together if you want rather than meeting there.”

The flutter in your heart was unfamiliar and you rubbed your palm across your chest to try and ease it as you answered him casually, “Sure, okay.” 

“Alright.” Pierre’s smile was obvious in his voice, “Wear something sexy.”

“Why? So you can take it off me later?”

“If you’re good.”

“Aren’t I always?”

He chuckled lowly, “See you tonight.”

You closed your eyes to try and picture his smile in your mind, him standing at the phone in the lunchroom of his job, only wanting to talk to you and no one else. There was no way you were deprived by any means and yet you still craved him so strongly from just hearing his voice and his risqué little confessions. You could never be completely satisfied for any longer than the duration of one of your nights together with either young man - you were constantly wanting more. Maybe more was what you were striving for in your fleeting spur-of-the-moment idea to invite him to the club that George was expected to be at that very same night. In a breath, you answered him softly, “See you.”

This was either your craziest or best idea yet. It was still undecided. Even as you walked down the stairs into the crowded club with Pierre at your side, a sliver of your mind was worried that this would go all wrong and you’d end up without either of them. You just had to remind yourself that both pairs of you had agreed to not be exclusive. You were doing nothing wrong. 

You passed your jackets over to the coat check clerk before following the music through the archway into the main space of the club, guided by the neon lights that were designed in swirling patterns across the ceiling. The loud music was familiar to you, rattling the worn walls of the London underground club and the floor buzzed with the motion of dancing strangers. Your hand naturally fell into Pierre’s as you weaved your way through the crowd towards the bar to get your first drinks of the night. You started with a shot each and then ordered your normal drinks - and he paid for both, even though you insisted otherwise. It wasn’t a date, after all. 

Nursing your glasses, you found yourselves an empty bar table and Pierre spoke about his work a little and the ongoing projects, keeping the talk surface level and light since you never met up for in-depth conversations. That wasn’t about to start then and there, that was for sure. Once you finished your first drinks and he returned to your table with refills for the both of you, you let your eyes skim the crowd as you sipped. 

“So how often do you come here?” Pierre asked loudly over the upbeat music, standing close to you at one of the small round standing bar tables. 

“About twice or three times a week.” you answered without looking at him, your attention too focused on skimming the dimly lit moving crowd for any sign of that long brown hair as you cuddled the cold glass in your hand. 

“How’d I not know you were such a socialite?” 

You finally looked at him and answered smoothly, “I mean usually when we’re together, not much chit chat is going on.”

Pierre chuckled faintly behind a sip of his own drink before licking his lips and agreeing, “I suppose that’s true.”

“Do you dance?” you asked. 

“Huh?” he leaned in closer to hear you over the music. 

You set a hand on his shoulder to ask again closely, “Do you dance?”

“Not well.” he replied. 

“Me neither.” you laughed before setting your glass down in exchange for a grasp of his arm, “Come on.”

Pierre put his drink on your table alongside yours and let you pull him into the chaos of the dancefloor. You were familiar with some basic moves but it wasn’t very difficult to just let the music move you. No one cared how ridiculous you might have looked - they were all too drunk to care anyway. So you held Pierre’s hands and you shared a small part of the dancefloor together, moving and grooving to the upbeat funky songs. 

You spun around together, almost tripping over each other with what unskilled dancers you were, but it was a mess of enjoyable glee and as Pierre tugged you closer by your waist, you let yourself fall into him. Your arms slung around his shoulders and his hands greedily rubbed down your waist and over your ass, ignorant to the strangers pressed up around you as your lips were drawn together without second thought. Still swaying to the music together - more than lucky you weren’t stepping on each other’s toes in the process - you made out filthily in the middle of the sweaty and crowded club. 

Bumping and dancing strangers knocked into you but you weren’t fazed, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair to pull him closer to taste more of his tongue in your mouth and the light scruff of his facial hair against your cheeks. He held you against his chest in a familiar embrace - a practiced dance of your own - and you felt the faint vibration of his moan into your kiss behind the rhythm of the music that surrounded you. You sucked on his tongue with insistent desire between sloppy kisses, hands all over bodies among sweaty strangers and, for a moment, you forgot that you were waiting on George to arrive.

“Putain,” Pierre swore as he broke away from your kiss with a tilt of his head and a heavy sigh, “I wanna take you home already.”

You giggled and leaned in to kiss him some more, sharing a few more impolite open mouthed kisses before pulling away again to answer him, hands sliding down his chest, “We just got here though. We don’t want to leave just yet.”

Pierre stared at you down the bridge of his nose, pressed up close to you in the middle of the crowded dancefloor, and his expression was shadowed by the horrible club lighting and the dancing streaks of neon light that rained down from the ceiling, but you could read the desire on his face so easily. His hands slid up your waist and down your forearms, licking away the taste of you from his lips as he pitched, “Wanna go to the bathroom?”

“No.” you answered, “I want to make you wait for it.”

Pierre laughed humorlessly, “You are unbelievable.” 

You soon found yourselves back with your drinks and migrated to a table with chairs to rest your feet after your attempt at dancing. Your legs were tossed over Pierre’s lap, draped down between his thighs, and his hand rested on your thigh almost too high up in your public setting. If you were any other girl, he’d be way past annoyed at your stringing him along and he would have long since left by now - but you were no other girl. You always made his patience worth it. 

Although your attention was focused on Pierre, you couldn’t help but glance across the crowd every now and then, silently awaiting your second guest. But it turns out Pierre was unexpectedly ahead of you at that. 

“That guy keeps looking over at us.” he nodded his head towards the bar. 

You turned your head in the direction of the bar, looking through the less dense section of the crowd on the margins of the club, only to land your eyes on the lanky brunette leaning against the bar top on his elbow. He was in a white button up and those plaid suit pants that his mother ironed for him that morning, his gaze unwavering in your direction. 

Clueless Pierre spoke again, “Oh, no way. I think that’s one of the guys from the Williams team.”

You played coy, “You think?”

“Yeah. I know what the drivers look like. I swear that’s him.”

You didn’t answer his rambles or acknowledge the way his thumb rubbed along your thigh, too busy making eyes at George across the club, your teeth sunken into your bottom lip to try and hide your forming grin. 

Pierre kept going, snapping his fingers on his other hand, “Not Rosberg…what’s the other guy’s name?”

“Russell.” you answered without thinking. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.” Pierre nodded without taking his eyes off the man in the corner of the club, “I swear he’s staring at us.”

This was your perfect segue, “Want to meet him?”

Before Pierre could ask, you were already standing up and grabbing his hand to pull him to his feet after you. He tried to protest but his words were whisked away by the noise of the music and the crowd and you dragged him along the outskirts of the dancefloor to finally fall to a stop at the bar. George’s eyes followed you shamelessly, his flat expression unreadable, and he eyed you up and down once you stood beside him. 

He was resting on his right arm on the bar, his left hand housing his drink, and you stood in front of him with Pierre just a step behind you. You couldn’t help but feel like you were nearly buzzing from a strange mix of nervousness and excitement and as George lifted his drink to his lips to sip, waiting for you to speak first, Pierre shifted in place. 

“Hey.” you greeted coolly. 

“Hello.” George replied with a slight cock to his head, “Who’s this?”

Pierre sensed the slight tension from the moment you approached the young man at the bar and he stayed a step behind you as if shielded by your confidence. But you were unfazed as you turned slightly so your back was facing the bar and you could easily look between them, “George, this is Pierre. Pierre, George.”

Like professionals, they reached out to shake hands briefly before George was speaking more to you than anyone, “You know, when you asked me if I was coming tonight, I figured it was because you wanted to see me.”

You rested your elbows behind you on the bar top, “I am seeing you now, am I not?”

George’s eyes flicked away from your face to look at Pierre, “I suppose.”

Pierre’s expression furrowed for a moment as he processed the strange encounter going on amongst you three and, if nothing else, the way George stared at you was somewhat of a dead giveaway. He looked at you too and you glanced between them innocently, waiting for one of them to talk first. 

Pierre took the initiative, “So, how do you know each other?”

“We met here, actually.” George answered for you, speaking loudly over the music of the club, “Few months ago.”

Pierre nodded and lifted his drink to sip from. 

“And you?” George asked. 

“At the market a few weeks back…got talking…” Pierre drifted his gaze to you again as he pushed the boundaries around this stranger with a small sly smile, “then there wasn’t much talking going on after that.”

You gave his arm a playful swat, unaware of the way George’s eyebrows raised at the comment behind a long sip of his drink. 

“So you’re sleeping together?” he asked bluntly, setting his empty glass on the bar. 

“Yeah.” Pierre answered, almost protectively. 

George’s gaze snapped right to you at that answer, expression almost offended and completely surprised. 

You merely giggled and lolled your head to the side as you stared back at him, “What’s with the dagger eyes, George? Come on…not like I’m the only girl you’re seeing.”

Pierre’s head turned quickly to you as well, “You’re sleeping with him too?” 

“Yeah, so what?” you looked at him, “We said we’re not exclusive.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Pierre shifted in place, his words fading out.

The guys looked at each other at the same time and you glanced between them and their unreadable flat expressions under the neon stained shadows of the loud club. They stood on either side of you, George a few inches taller than his counterpart, both just as equally close to you, and it almost felt surreal being with them at the same time. Your heart was racing in your chest and nothing had even happened. 

“Who else?” George finally broke your silence amidst the noise. 

“Just you two.” you shrugged innocently, laughing faintly, “I’m not that much of a slut…damn.”

“And you asked us both to come here to meet you for what reason exactly?” Pierre questioned, leaning his left arm on the bar beside you, head cocked to the side expectantly. 

You licked away your grin and looked away from the both of them to face forward towards the dancefloor almost shyly, not quite wanting to speak your idea out loud. So instead, you shrugged, and scuffed the toe of your shoe on the concrete floor despite your smile, George’s black loafers on your left and Pierre’s black sneakers on your right. But with you not looking at them, the guys shared sly glances and knowing smirks at what your shy silence was insinuating. 

Pierre’s hand on your face startled you slightly and he took your cheeks in his hand to pull your face in his direction so you could look at him, and he ordered you seriously, “Say it, cherie.”

George stepped closer at your side and brushed your hair over your shoulder before dragging his finger down your neck to raise shivers across your skin in his wake, “We’re listening. What do you want?”

You shifted in place, biting your bottom lip as you stared into Pierre’s eyes under his hand, confessing behind the thudding music of the club, “I wanted to take you both home tonight.”

“To do what?” George pressed. 

Pierre’s grip loosened on your cheeks so you could look at George instead as you answered him, “So you can fuck me.”

“This was your whole game, huh?” Pierre taunted, “Luring us here just to corner us into a fucking three-way?”

“Do you not want that?” you looked back at him. “Because I can just take George here home instead.”

Pierre frowned and responded quickly, “No, no. Don’t do that. This could be…fun. And I’m not passing up my opportunity for a night with you.”

You turned to George, “And you?”

“Yeah, what the hell.” he shrugged with a smirk, “Haven’t done this kinda thing since Monte Carlo in ‘83. About time I give it another go…and with the loveliest girl in London at that.”

“No need to butter me up, George. I’m already set on taking you home tonight.” you chuckled. 

George was always one who knew what he wanted and who got what he wanted, so he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing your chin in his hand to pull your lips on his. He had been waiting for it all day, after all, and your teasing was only making him that much more impatient. Not to mention seeing you nestled up with another man only to find out it was all a part of some sick little fantasy of yours. Who could blame him for not being able to keep his hands off you for a second longer? 

Pierre shifted at your other side, looking away from your kiss at first to scan the crowded dance floor instead behind a sip of his drink, but then he was looking back at the two of you, figuring he was going to be seeing a lot more as the night progressed. So he let himself watch for a moment under the flashing neon lights of the club, eyes lingering on the hint of another man’s tongue helping itself to your mouth and the way your fingers tangled in the soft waves around the nape of his neck, pulling him into you. Then, Pierre was nudging your arm, urging you away from your kiss.

“Come on,” Pierre tossed back the last of his drink before setting the glass on the bar top, “let’s get our jackets and get the fuck outta here.”

“Meet you on the street.” George said, letting you slip out of his grasp, “Just gotta find my mates and tell them I’m leaving.”

George disappeared into the crowd to find his other driver friends whom he had come with while Pierre led you by the hand to the coat check. He stood almost protectively at your side, much closer than was even required in the tightly packed club, and when the attendant passed you your jackets, Pierre helped you drape yours over your shoulders. The refreshing nighttime air of downtown London filled your lungs as you stepped out onto the sidewalk and Pierre moved towards the curb to call a cab. Although it was still summer, the evenings had a tendency to get a little chilly and you were thankful for your jacket as you waited for your taxi and the third member of your little group. 

Even without the thudding of the loud club music, your heart was still pounding against your ribcage, in near disbelief that your plan was headed into full swing. One look at either of them and you were burning with desire, already way ahead of yourself. In the privacy of the darkened city street, any passersby too drunk or distracted to pay any mind, you slid a hand down over the front of your skirt to press against your aching cunt. 

A figure sauntered up beside you and you didn’t need to look to know it was George. He eyed you for a second before speaking, “Haven’t even left the premises and you’re already touching yourself. Haven’t even laid a hand on you yet and you’re already touching yourself.”

You took your hand back to fold your arms across your chest, glancing over at him playfully, “Shut up.”

His finger was hooked in the back of his jacket that was tossed over his shoulder, looking so casually suave as the nighttime breeze ruffled through his brunette waves. He stared at you right back, big blue eyes hazy in the neon light of the club’s exterior signage above you, and you looked away first just as the taxi pulled up to the curb. 

“Merde. Finally.” Pierre yanked open the back door and gestured the two of you over, “Come on.”

George walked around the opposite side as you climbed into the middle seat, forcing you to be sandwiched between the two men as Pierre got in behind you. The two rear doors were closed, sealing you all in, and you leaned forward to tell the driver your address. When the driver pulled away from the curb and you settled back in your spot, both Pierre and George were looking at you. You couldn’t deny the sly little grin that was inching across your face and although it was exactly what you wanted, to be squished in the back of a cab with the two of them together, you couldn’t help but feel a little shy. 

Pierre set his hand on your thigh, just above your knee, and he teased at the hem of your skirt with his fingertips, “Cat got your tongue now, cherie?”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this quiet.” George added from your other side, trailing his index finger down the length of your arm. 

You were so attuned to the both of them there and everything felt warm. Your hands were folded on your lap but you slowly unclasped them to set one on George’s leg and then one on Pierre’s, not straying much farther than just above their knees as you answered them softly, “I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” George pressed, his blue eyes nearly analysing your profile expressionlessly, and his finger reached up to ghost over your jawline. 

Your hands slid a little farther up their legs and Pierre’s other hand wrapped around your wrist to caress your forearm as you answered, “Tonight. What we’re gonna do.”

“Whatever you want to do.” Pierre replied coolly. 

“Where’s the fun in me telling you what to do?” you countered in a fit of bravery, glancing over at him with a smile you tried to bite back. 

Pierre’s eyes flicked past you to exchange a silent glance with George and then you, too, looked at George. 

“You both know my limits.” you continued quietly, trying to not be overheard by the taxi driver as you glanced between them again, “And I can always say stop.” 

“You really just want us to have our way with you, don’t you?” George’s eyebrows raised in amusement. 

“Fucking slut.” Pierre added from your other side. 

You licked away your grin as you face forward again, staring straight out the windshield at the passing streetlight stained blocks of London that passed you by. Your hands gave their thighs a little squeeze but didn’t spare them another glance. In your peripherals, you could see the way the two of them looked at each other across you as if sharing silent conversation and then suddenly, their conversation was verbal. 

“Is she always this easy for you?” George asked him like you weren’t even there, despite the way his fingertips danced across your knee and teased under the hem of your skirt. 

“Usually.” Pierre answered almost proudly, “You seem surprised.”

“She tends to make me work for it a little more. She just loves the chase. Plays coy.”

“Kinda like now…wanting to see just what we’ll do to her despite all the ways she has probably already imagined this?”

“Mhm,” George’s hand slid farther along the inside of your thigh although you kept your knees tightly together, “A plan like this certainly doesn’t come to fruition in only an evening.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you kept your stare straight ahead, playing clueless to the way they talked about you, got acquainted, and the way they caressed your thighs and slowly inched up your skirt just enough to tease you. 

George finished his statement, “She’s definitely been thinking about it for a while.”

Pierre’s hand helped itself up your skirt, his slender fingers sliding between your legs to knead at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, tainted by the warmth of your body and the lust that grew within you as he spoke lowly, “Looks like she’s finally getting what she wants.”

You couldn’t help but look down towards your lap to get a glimpse at how their hands disappeared up your skirt. They weren’t doing much as of yet but their warm, purposeful caresses of your thigh had you burning for them more and more, feeling like if they didn’t touch you soon you might have been sick from the anticipation. So you parted your knees slightly, just enough to give them the hint that you were theirs to touch if they saw fit; that it was exactly what you wanted. 

Although they noticed your move, they didn’t give into you right away. Pierre’s warm chuckle from your right had you licking your lips as you stared at their hands in your lap and he spoke across you to George, “I think she wants more.”

You couldn’t help the playful “shh” you habitually replied with, shifting in place under their hands. 

“She’s already squirming for it.” George added, his eyes focused on your face. 

They spoke quietly so as to not be heard by the driver, sharing whispers past you back and forth as their hands caressed your thighs and his fingers teased your most sensitive spots without giving into your lustful desires completely. George leaned in and left a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw, so gentle that you could feel yourself throb up your skirt, and you shifted again to try and lessen the ache that grew inside you. He kissed you again a little farther down your neck as his palm rubbed down your thigh to your knee and right back up before giving your flesh a tender squeeze. 

Pierre leaned in on your otherside, leading with his tongue right up the side of your neck to the sensitive spot just below your ear. The shiver that it caused had the both of them breaking into sly smirks that you could feel against your skin. A few more kisses from the both of them and you were arching against the leather seat of the taxi with a soft huff to try and shift away from their ghostly touches, closing your legs again tightly as your fingers grasped at the fabric of their pants on either side of you.

“She can barely handle this.” Pierre chuckled lowly.

“Look at her.” George tisked from your other side, “Can hardly contain herself.”

“I can’t wait to see how she looks when we both get inside her at the same time.” 

Pierre’s blunt statement had you biting your lip harder, attention darting over to him. He was sitting so closely at your side that when you turned your head to look at him, your noses were almost touching and you could feel his breath. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The world felt like an alcohol-induced crazy dream.

“Is that what you want?” George asked from your other side, drawing your gaze over to him on your other side, “You want us both inside you? Is that why you cornered us out here?”

You nodded.

“Say it. Say that you want us both inside you at the same time.”

You couldn’t speak for a moment with how stunned you were, dumbly staring at him like a deer in headlights. George’s hand lifted from your lap to wrap around your throat, his lips only millimetres away from yours, capturing you in place. 

“We’re not going to do what you want if you don’t obey us.” Pierre told you sternly from your other side. 

Pierre spoke so closely but your gaze was locked on George’s big blue eyes, held in place by his hand around your throat, and you licked your lips faintly just as the taxi pulled up outside your apartment building, in perfect time for you to answer them in a hushed whisper, “I want you both inside me.”

Pierre’s hand slid further up your inner thigh and he gave you a proud squeeze, “Good girl.”

You followed Pierre out of the taxi as George tossed a few bills at the driver for payment before he was following quickly after the both of you. You waited for him at the steps of your building, making sure both of them were within arm’s reach before you were letting yourself into the elevator lobby bathed in the fluorescent flickering light across the ceiling. 

Waiting for the elevator was near torturous as you three knew that you must remain composed while still in such a public setting regardless of the fact that there was no one around at such a late hour. Regardless, you were all too attuned to the feeling of them standing so close on either side of you as if they were guarding you, claiming some sort of protection over you, and your insides stirred with imagination of what was waiting for you once you got upstairs. 

Even in the elevator, the tension was cramped amongst you in the tight space. You could feel the heat of their bodies against yours, the fabric of their clothes, and their fingers trailed over your hips, your arms, your neck, as if testing the waters of where they were wanting to touch you. It was shiver worthy, addicting, making your heart thud against your ribcage in lustful anticipation. 

The key was nearly trembling in your hand as you unlocked your apartment door, so aware of the two men standing beside you that you almost forgot how to properly function. All you wanted was them as if it was your only reason for living at that moment. The door couldn’t close behind the three of you fast enough. 

Your darkened apartment was lit only by the street lights streaking in through your living room window, leaving the three of you amongst shadows as you nearly tripped over each other farther into the apartment. Your purse was dropped aimlessly on the kitchen counter with your body facing the both of them as they moved in towards you like you were prey. As your back hit the edge of the counter, you were trapped between it and them and your hands naturally reached out to grab onto the front of their shirts to guide them closer, nearly sharing breaths through slightly parted lips as your gaze flicked between them. 

You had this whole idea for how you were going to get them in the same vicinity but it was apparent that was as far as you got within your planning. What the hell were you supposed to do now? Who was going to make the first move? As much as you loved feeling both of them so close to you, you were completely unaware as to what your next step was. This was entirely new uncharted territory. 

“God, look at you,” Pierre’s hand raised to the side of your face and the pad of his thumb ghosted across your parted lips, “you’re so fucking clueless.”

George took his jacket from where he was holding it over his shoulder still and he dropped it onto the counter beside you as he spoke, “Dumb little girl couldn’t even fully develop her plan before diving right in.”

They knew you too well. They could both read you like a fucking book. It was obvious that you could hold no secrets with either of them and this was only the living proof. Habitually, affected by the control they so easily held over you, you tugged at the front of their shirts a little harder, forcing them a half step closer towards you until you were completely sandwiched back against the edge of the counter. Everyone was so close together and you only had to turn your head a microscopic amount to look between them, feeling their breaths on your face and their eyes drinking you up in your darkened apartment. 

Pierre, George, Pierre, George, Pierre, George- How were you supposed to choose who got the first ounce of your attention? 

Pierre, with his hand still holding your face, took that responsibility himself as he grew tired of the lingering tension and pulled your lips on his. You melted into him so easily, eyebrows furrowing a moment as you fell into his familiar kiss, and right away he was parting your lips with his own to introduce a hint of tongue. You let go of the front of his shirt to grab the back of his neck instead to make him kiss you harder while still keeping George’s nicely ironed shirt under your insistent grip. 

Without the distraction of his jacket anymore, George’s hands were focused only on you, sliding up your sides of your perfectly tailored dress as he watched you kiss another man right in front of him. Your fingers twisted in the soft fabric of his shirt and when you broke away from Pierre for a moment, your head was naturally turning towards George instead and he moved with you without instruction, taking your lips with his effortlessly. 

Pierre’s hand moved from your face to the back of your neck as if guiding you into kissing another man. His eyes analysed your every slight motion and was attuned to even the faintest little moan you let slip into George’s mouth when his tongue met yours. Your apartment was a silent harmony of your shared heavy breaths and deepening wet kisses, accentuated only by the sound of faint brushes of hands over clothes. So innocent, so tempting. 

Pierre was always the bossier of the two as you had come to realize over the months of sharing late nights with each of them so he didn’t hesitate to grab your chin and force you away from George when he was ready for a turn of his own. You barely had a second to lick away the cocky smile on your face before he was shoving his tongue in your mouth and shutting you up with his lips. Your arm tossed around his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer while your other hand let go of George’s shirt to wrap around his waist instead, urging him towards you some more as well. 

George’s full lips dusted over the shell of your ear just enough to send shivers down your spine at his ghostly touch and warm breath before he was nipping at your earlobe and then leaving a slow open mouthed kiss to your neck, all while Pierre was still kissing you. Your legs nearly gave out from under you, already feeling yourself soaking through your panties under your dress, unable to hide the hungry moan that tumbled from your lips and against Pierre’s own. You burned for the both of them, feeling as though the temperature in your apartment was that of the summer heat, and your dress suddenly felt extremely suffocating. 

“I need-” you were barely able to get the sentence out as the moment you separated from Pierre, George was pulling your lips on his impatiently. You gladly kissed him back for a few seconds before your hands were blindly drifting to the front of their shirts again and you pushed them both an arms length away from you. You were already breathless and flushed, way past the point of horny, and you licked your lips before trying your statement again, “I need to get out of this goddamn dress right now.” 

George cocked his head in the direction of your bedroom, “Come on then.”

You followed behind them as they both turned for your bedroom, the three of you crossing your moonkissed hardwood floors towards the partially open door opposite the small kitchen. The two men only stopped when they both tried to go through the opening first. Stopping, they looked at each other flatly for a split second. You didn’t have a split second to waste as you pushed right past them and grabbed their wrists on your way to fully yank them through the doorway together and into your familiar bedroom. 

Once inside, you grabbed the first one you turned to when you rotated 180° to face them which happened to be Pierre. As you walked backwards farther into the room, your hand found the back of his neck and his hands went to your waist, pulling you right up against his body as you breathed into each other’s open mouths, lingering on that anticipation before the kiss. His lips ghosted across yours, taunting you, before finally capturing your bottom one between his two in a pornographic kiss. 

George followed after you as he hurried to unbutton his white collared shirt, his attention more focused on you than his buttons as his fingers stumbled over each one. Your arms tossed around Pierre’s shoulders as your body arched into his, lips meeting and parting messily while his fingertips pressed into your hips over the fabric of your dress. After a few seconds you were reaching a hand out towards George and he let you lead him closer to join, gladly accepting your kiss as you broke away from Pierre again. You kept an arm around the both of them - making sure the space between you was as limited as possible - and George’s hand drifted down your waist to grab a handful of your ass. Your fingertips teased at the popped collar of his open shirt before trailing down his exposed chest blindly, your attention taken up by his lips and tongue as you purposefully pushed the fabric off his shoulders and he let it drop to the ground. 

Pierre drifted at your side to stand behind you instead and his hands draped your hair over your shoulder so he could reach the top of the zipper on your dress. He gently pulled at it while his lips gravitated to your neck, feeling the shivers rise across your skin under his slow sensual kisses. You moved with him to help him slide your unzipped dress down your arms and to your waist while you were still hung up on George’s heavenly lips. Pierre took his time undressing you, letting his hands explore your familiar body while he kissed your neck and shoulder, groping your breasts over your bra or squeezing the flesh of your hips - he always knew just where to touch. But it was George who took the initiative to grab the fabric of your dress that was stuck around your waist and he pushed it farther down to let it fall to the floor where it pooled around your ankles. 

“Let’s get you out of this.” Pierre’s voice against the shell of your ear rose shivers down your arms as his experienced fingers unclasped your bra effortlessly and you moved with him to let it fall from your arms and onto the floor with your dress. 

Then, in a smooth motion, you were pulling your lips away from George to tilt your head back over your shoulder to get more of Pierre, moaning softly into his mouth as he kissed you again. His hand slid up around your throat, holding you in place, taking what he wanted from your lips and tongue for a few seconds before he, too, was breaking away from you so he could pull off his own shirt. The pile of clothes on the floor seemed to grow larger by the second but that was the least of your concerns as your attention was too captivated by the two brunettes on either side of you. Your hands trailed down each of their bare chests, feeling their familiar warm skin and slender bodies that truly felt like they were all yours and only yours to touch. 

Pierre’s fingers ghosted up your waist and he pinched one of your nipples as he spoke lowly to the room, his accent thick against your ear, “I think our pretty little slut should get on her knees for us.”

Our. For us. You could have absolutely swooned. Maybe the giddy little smile that came to your face was a reaction enough, regardless of how you tried to bite it back, keeping your eyes downcast as your hands rested greedily against their chests. 

“All shy now, are you?” George’s hand rested under your chin to tilt your head up, forcing your bashful gaze to focus on them. “Such an indecorous little girl at the club…now look at her.”

“Can’t even look at us.” Pierre tisked. 

George’s hand shifted to grab your cheeks, “Her face is so flushed. Bet she’s absolutely soaked for us already.”

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that involuntarily slipped from your lips, making the two young men smirk proudly. 

“Yeah?” George taunted, gently smacking his hand against your cheek once, “We haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already a whiny mess.”

Pierre took a half step closer and his fingers tangled in the back of your hair, giving your head a tug backwards just to prove they were in control before he spoke right against your cheek, “Just wait until we’re fucking finished with you.”

You could barely get out a breathy, “Please.”

“Come on then,” George coaxed, “on your knees.”

Never being one to say no to either of them - and certainly not when they were both looking at you like they were going to fucking devour you - you sank obediently to your knees amongst the mess of discarded clothes on the floor. The sound and sight of them unbuckling their belts simultaneously in your face was like angels singing and you clamped your thighs together tighter to smother the ache that radiated within you. You were so terribly impatient, hands reaching up to help guide their pants down as if they weren’t undressing fast enough.

The high-end fabric of George’s plaid slacks felt soft under your one hand and your other tugged at the rough denim of Pierre’s jeans at your other side until they were both stepping out of their pants. With the three of you left in only your underwear, your attention was narrowed in on only the two young men in front of you, feeling the way your stomach churned with near excitement and you were biting your lip until it was almost raw. 

Despite the way words had seemed to abandon you at that point in the night, your shyness certainly didn’t apply to your sense of touch as your hands slid up their thighs greedily. Two perfect men standing tall before you with your invitation to touch them however you pleased, grazing your dainty fingers over their hairy thighs and finally over the front of their boxers. It was nothing you hadn’t done before, hadn’t seen before, hadn’t risked before, allowing you to feel no hesitation as you felt them up over the thin fabric that separated your palm from arguably your favourite parts of them. 

Over the summer, you had been subconsciously comparing them to each other and as you swapped between them almost nightly, it was easy to start to find what was unique for each of them - in what they liked and how they looked and how they reacted to your touch. You weren’t surprised that they were both already incredibly hard, allowing your fingers to attempt to wrap around the shape of both of them through the fabric of their underwear, eyes shifting back and forth between them like a kid on Christmas morning. Oh, who to unwrap first?

Thankfully, they took that indecision into their own hands as they both shared some sort of silent agreement to drop their final piece of clothing at the same time, revealing themselves to you proudly. You truly and honestly grinned, entirely blessed to have two hands to touch both of them at the same time, habitually licking your lips as your eyes darted between their two perfectly beautiful cocks held so tenderly in your hands. You swore you were the luckiest girl in the damn world. 

Yes, it was nothing you hadn’t seen before, however seeing them both at the same time right in front of you was absolutely thrilling. George was overall bigger and you knew that subconsciously from your summer escapades between the two but Pierre had a length to him that was unmissable. With a hand still around each of them, you leaned in towards George to give him a teasing lap of your tongue along the underside of the tip, urging his hand to fall naturally into your hair as you leaned in again for another lingering lick. But then you were turning to Pierre, just having to turn your head a bit and he, too, was right in your face. 

Your tongue dragged right up the underside of his thick cock and then swirled around the tip, eyes staring up at him to gauge his reaction to your teasing touches. The lick of his lips was indication enough and when you pulled back from him, you pursed your lips to let a plentiful drop of spit fall onto the head of his cock. Your hand that was still around the base slid up to slick your palm in spit so you could glide easier around the soft warm shaft. Then you turned to George and did the same to him, allowing both of your hands to stroke them at the same time as your eyes drifted back and forth between them. 

After a few seconds, you were moving back in to take the head of George’s cock in your mouth and you sucked on it lazily, letting your hand around him do most of the work. Then you pulled away to turn back to Pierre and give him that same treatment of hand and mouth for a few moments. When you pulled back from him, you sat back on your heels for a moment with a spitty grin on your face, watching your hands around each of them at the same time, all yours to do with as you pleased. 

“This is incredible.” you breathed. 

You had thought you said it in your head but the low, warm chuckles that came from the two men in front of you gave clear indication that you truly said it out loud. You weren’t embarrassed as they had both heard much worse things come out of your mouth since you began seeing each of them and, instead, you shuffled closed on your knees and let your mouth wrap around George’s dick again. 

Leading with your tongue, you kept your jaw slack to keep your teeth out of the way, only going down about half the length as your hand tended to the rest. In steady time, you bobbed your head along with the pace of the strokes of your hand, caressing him with tongue and cheek. You moaned around him softly, eyes blinking up at him with your mouth full of dick, and with his big blue eyes staring down at you in return, his hand slid into the back of your hair again.

“Suck it harder.” he ordered. 

You never wanted to disappoint either of them so you did as told, hollowing your cheeks on each up stroke to really suck on him snugly in your mouth as you pulled back. Your hands kept matching paces on the both of them, even if your attention wasn’t directly on Pierre at the present moment - he was definitely watching, however. George, selfishly, really started to try and pull you deeper on him until you were sitting back, letting his dick fall from your mouth with a wet pop. 

Pierre grabbed your cheeks and pulled your head towards him, setting his other hand over yours around his cock so he could tap it against your spitty lips and make you open up. You stuck out your tongue and he slapped the head of his dick against it a few times before you took the initiative to sink your mouth down on him yourself. His groan was heavenly and you had you stretch your jaw a little more to fit him comfortably in your mouth without the interruption of teeth but he seemed to be appreciative of your efforts. 

“Good girl.” Pierre praised lowly, still holding the base of his cock even as you took him in your hand and mouth and he watched you intently, very aware of your other hand still tending to George right beside him, “This what you wanted? Just wanted to take two dicks like a greedy little slut?”

You could only reply with a muffled “mhm”. 

When you pulled off of him a few seconds later with a lewd pop, you gave George a purposeful tug to silently urge him a half step closer and you rewarded him with a wet kiss and a little suck. But then you were glancing back at Pierre who was only millimetres away and you tugged him a little bit closer too so you could guide both of them into your mouth at the same time. The both of them nearly choked over their breath in surprise, staring down at you with stormy eyes of the sea, shoved up together in your mouth. Logically, you couldn’t fit more than the tips in since the angle was naturally a little tricky but you worked them with your tongue and those sweet moans of yours to really make it worthwhile. Half of the time it was all about the show. 

“Putain.” Pierre groaned, pushing his fingers through your bangs to get your hair out of your face and he grasped the back of your head. 

“Fucking cockslut.” George said through his teeth as he grabbed a handful of your hair at the nape of your neck.

With both of them holding your head, you were forced in place but not like you would ever want to stop anyway. Your hands stayed wrapped around the base of each of their dicks, keeping them in your mouth, letting you slobber all over them until your spit was dripping onto the floor and your messy pile of clothes you were knelt on. 

The lust was too strong for them to care that they were touching each other, too spurred on by the sight and sound of you on your knees for them and taking two dicks in your mouth at the same time. Your tongue dragged between both of them back and forth across the sensitive spots under the smooth heads, earning their fingers to grip harder at your hair. When you pulled off them to try and breathe for a split second, your eyes nearly shone at the sight of them standing stiff in front of your face, glistening in spit, and you dipped down to drag your flat tongue right up the underside of the both of them simultaneously. 

After the stretch on your jaw from taking the two of them at once, you went back to the modest one at a time, feeding Pierre’s cock in your mouth back down to halfway as your hand stayed around the base. You kept those shallow bobs of your head going, smothering your moans with a stuffed mouth, and your hand’s twisting strokes kept him nice and hard against your tongue. 

However, your half-assed attempt at a blowjob wasn’t getting past either of them and, with his hand still gripping your hair, Pierre started to pull your head deeper on him, demanding firmly, “Gag on it. I know you can take more than that.”

You dropped your hand from his cock to let your mouth get deeper, struggling to take his impressive size farther against your tongue until it hit the back of your throat. Your soft gag had you pulling back a little to keep a more respectable depth going. 

But George had other plans from your other side as his hand in your hair shoved you deeper again, making you gag violently around Pierre’s cock as he ordered sternly, “Come on. Choke on his fucking dick.” 

Your hands grasped Pierre’s thighs to keep yourself steady as you were forced deeper on him, both of them taking over your head to move you as they pleased, getting more of those filthy wet gags from your throat as your eyes burned with tears. It was nothing you would ever complain about since you would choose them over air any day. 

When you finally had to break away for a gasp of air, they let you go, both of them staring at your flushed face and the way you had thick strings of spit trailing down your chin and onto the floor. Heaving for breath through a small cough, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and then reached for their dicks again, eager to keep going. Pierre’s palm smacked down against your cheek and his fingers squeezed your face to get your mouth to open so he could spit against your tongue before shoving your head towards George. 

“You wanna be treated like a slut, don’t you?” Pierre taunted. 

You felt as though you were in a complete haze, running on adrenaline stemmed from pleasure, and you barely answered him with an acknowledged hum before you were feeding George’s dick back into your mouth. After being forced to take Pierre’s, it was a bit easier now although you still gagged around George’s impressive length as he reached the back of your throat. 

His hand tangled in your hair as he spoke down to you, “Want us to use you like you’re some stupid whore?”

Your moan around his dick was taken as affirmative and his hips nudged towards your mouth in an instinctive thrust, trying to meet your motions. You grasped onto his thighs and let your jaw fall slack into the deeper bobs of your head. 

Just then, Pierre set his hand on the back of your head again and forced you all the way down until your nose touched the dark hair that dotted the base of his cock, encouraging George with a firm statement, “Fuck her throat.”

Knowing what was coming - since having had plentiful experience with the both of them - you blinked your teary eyes up at George as both of his hands held your head and he started to thrust into your mouth. Your fingernails dug into his thighs as tears burned your vision and made it hard to keep looking at him, your throat gagging and constricting around him in the filthiest wettest sounds as he had his way with you. 

“Oh, fuck.” he moaned tightly, handsome face screwed up in ecstacy. 

“That’s it.” Pierre stood right beside you, pumping his cock with his fist as he watched you turn into an absolute mess on the driver’s dick, his tongue darting out between his lips before his teeth were sinking down into the bottom one. 

George’s fingers were tight in your hair as he yanked you into his every thrust like you were nothing more than a toy. It wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in that position with either of them, letting him take over all your senses at once until the rest of reality fell away into the ringing of your ears. That had you tapping out on his thigh and he made sure to let you go so you could catch your breath and let your senses come back to you. 

The moment his dick fell from your mouth with bubbling strings of spit still connecting it to your lips, you were coughing loudly despite the biggest grin that was plastered across your face, blinking away your blurring tears. You moved back in to kiss his tip and then turned to give Pierre a little lick too, resting your warm hands on their thighs to take a second to catch your breath and just admire them from the floor. And underneath your sore knees, George’s once perfectly ironed plaid trousers were a wrinkled and spitty mess. 

Pierre’s thumb slipped past your lips for you to suck on as he directed his question to the man beside him, “How wet do you think that got her?”

George chuckled knowingly, “Fucking soaked, probably.”

Pierre stepped aside and pointed to your nearly made double bed behind them, directing to you, “Get on the bed.” 

You pushed yourself up from the floor with an obedient, “Yes, sir.” 

As you walked between them to climb onto your bed, George’s hand smacked your ass on your way past and you flipped around to face them as you scooted farther back on the mattress. That ear-to-ear grin never left your face, especially as you watched them join you on the bed, George on your left and Pierre on your right. Resting on your forearms behind you, your legs were outstretched across the mattress with only your thin lace panties sitting snug around your hips, displaying your body for the both of them who were entirely familiar with each inch of your skin. 

Even the few seconds you sat there motionless as they settled beside you were torturously impatient and your hips seemed to roll against nothing in desperate humanistic craving to get some ounce of friction between your legs. So you reached down yourself, sliding your hand over your underwear to rub your clothed clit a little, but you barely got your hand on yourself before Pierre was yanking you away by your wrist. 

“Did we tell you to touch yourself?” he warned. 

“Mm,” your head dropped back towards the ceiling impatiently, “no.”

“Does it ache?” George asked from your other side, his accent thick with lust as his fingertips ghosted over your hardened nipples.

“Yeah.” you exhaled.

“Yeah?” Pierre nudged your knee to the side to force you to spread your legs wider, “I bet it does, dirty girl.” 

You stared down your body to watch his hand trail up your inner thigh and then down the other, not giving you the satisfaction of his touch where you craved it most. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in that heavy anticipation, watching his hand touch your thighs and your knees and your shins and your hips and even across your stomach and up your chest, urging an impatient whine out of you. Meanwhile, George’s fingers were pinching at your nipples before his mouth followed suit, plush lips wrapping around one for a teasing suck that had you falling back flat on the bed with a strained moan from your throat. Your wandering hands had a mind of their own, one sliding up the side of George’s face and into his soft brown waves while your other wrapped around Pierre’s bare bicep almost pleadingly. 

George pulled away from your chest with a soft pop and his tongue glided up your neck before his lips were locking with yours. You moaned pleasantly into his kiss and your fingers tightened in his hair, holding his mouth on yours as your tongue nudged against his insistently. After a few seconds, Pierre’s hand was teasing the waistband of your panties and he linked a finger right through the two leg holes so when he pulled his finger up, the fabric was pulled taut over your clit. You broke away from George’s lips with a soft groan, impatiently trying to nudge your hips up against Pierre’s hand. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. Want us to touch you?” George taunted down to you. 

“Yes, Georgie.” you purred angelically, batting your lashes up at him and his handsome face, lifting a hand up to reach out to stroke his bare chest and the faint hair between his pecs. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Pierre asked, tugging at your panties a little more so the tight fabric rubbed against your clit. “How long have you laid in this very bed and made yourself cum to the thought of both of us just having our way with you?”

“I don’t make myself cum,” you answered smoothly, draping your arms above your head lazily, “You two do it for me.”

The two of them laughed in realization of your spoken truth, the warm sound bringing an honest grin back to your face. 

Pierre tugged harder at your panties to really get the taut fabric nestling between your lips, “You’re such a good girl.”

George elaborated as his hand drifted down to your body to apply a bit more pressure to your clothed clit with his fingertips, speaking directly to you as he did so, “A good girl who just wants us to treat her like a bad girl, huh? Like you’ve done something wrong?” 

“Yes, sir.” you breathed, squirming against your bed under their unwavering stares. 

“Like lying to us while you were out fucking the other behind our backs?” George added as he slowly slid his hand farther down between your legs, following the thin fabric of your panties linked tightly in Pierre’s finger.

You had no reply for him, too focused on his hand disappearing between your thighs and you lifted your head up from your pillow to try and watch with bated breath. Pierre’s hand let go of your panties and instead his slender fingers wrapped around your throat, pinning your head down against your pillow again under his snug grasp. But you were pulling him down by the back of his neck after you, forcing his lips on yours in a breathless kiss as George slowly traced the hem of your underwear right down between your spread thighs. 

“You’re absolutely dripping��even your thighs are wet.” George breathed, dragging a finger along your inner thigh to touch the faint shimmer of wetness that had leaked from the protection of your underwear. The fabric itself was absolutely ruined just to show how turned on you already were and the simple action of him dragging three fingers over your clothed pussy had your hips nudging up against his hand and you moaned into Pierre’s mouth. 

Then, George’s hand moved to slip down the front of your underwear, giving himself permission to touch you without the barrier of pesky fabric. Your gasp had Pierre’s hand tightening around your throat and his tongue pushed against yours, forcing his control over you even if he wasn’t the one touching you. The sounds of your sloppy kisses were equal to the lewd wet caresses of George’s fingers gliding over your leaking pussy, rubbing you slowly, tauntingly, smothering his fingertips in your messy wetness until they were covered. 

Your hand wrapped blindly around his bicep as your other arm was tossed around Pierre’s shoulders, still kissing him breathless, and your legs habitually opened wider as if silently permitting George to touch you more. He seemed to take to your invitation as he took his hand back just long enough to push your damp underwear down your legs and they were tossed to the pile of clothes on the floor at the foot of the bed. The cool air of your apartment hitting your wet cunt made you shiver but his fingers were on you again in an instant, warming you up with the friction of his touch. 

You broke away from Pierre with a choked moan and his lips found your neck instead, kissing you slowly under your ear, his facial hair tickling across your skin, while his hand moved down from your throat to your chest, tweaking at your nipples with warm touches. George’s hand was still between your legs and he glanced back at your face again while he rubbed across your pussy before slipping two fingers inside you. His eyebrows raised in time with the blissful parting of your lips, his attention focused on the wavering expression of your face as you stared at each other lustfully. 

“Good girl.” he whispered softly, his voice as smooth as butter. 

You barely had to make a move to reach for him before he was leaning down towards you on his own accord, locking your lips with his in a filthy kiss. The unkempt hairspray-stained brunette curls at the nape of his neck always called to your fingers and you laced your hand in the halo of styled brown hair to gently tug on. It was Pierre’s kisses on your neck that rose shivers down your arms although the heat that flushed across your body was thanks to the steady nudges of George’s two fingers inside you. They were a pair to be reckoned with it seemed - but you had figured that from the moment you met each of them individually. 

Your bedroom welcomed your soft moans at their presence, egged on by George’s generous fingers and his kisses that swallowed up your audible praise. Pierre lifted his head from your neck and you shuttered at the graze of his touch over your clit, breaking away from George’s lips.

Although Pierre moved towards you like he was going to take his opportunity, he didn’t, and instead he let his fingers circle at your swollen clit as he spoke right to your face, “That’s it. You’re gonna let us have our way with you, huh? Make you feel so fucking good.”

He swallowed your whimper up with his lips like it was dessert, dragging his tongue against yours to taste the sweetness of your pleasure. George was right there as well and you only had to turn your face away from Pierre the slightest amount to be able to take kisses from him too. With their hands between your legs and sharing the responsibility of bringing you into that heart-racing euphoria, you went between their lips in turns, pulling at hair and the backs of necks as if you couldn’t get enough of them. 

Both of them were tucked right up close to you on either side, gladly sharing in your kisses until you had to take a break to breathe, your gaze drifting down your body to their hands between your legs. As if sharing the same mind, they both sped up their fingers a little more, forcing a tight groan from your throat as your head fell back against your pillow. 

“Give up control to us, cherié.” Pierre whispered against your cheek, “Let us take those stupid little thoughts from that pretty little head of yours.”

And then he was disappearing from your side and shifting down the bed. 

George took his fingers out of you and the momentary lack of touch had you whining in displeasure as they situated themselves. Pierre shoved your legs apart wider and he slid down onto the mattress between them so he could spit right onto your pussy before his fingers were sliding right through it and back up. He slapped three fingers down on your clit, making you startle, and with a cocky smirk against your inner thigh, his blue eyes staring up at you, he gave you a few more smacks. 

“Holy fuck.” you squeaked, stretching one arm out across the sheets to grasp at the fabric while your other hand wrapped around George’s bicep. You knew exactly what was coming and the way Pierre’s hand wrapped around your thighs and yanked you closer to him in the middle of the bed had you biting back an anticipatory smile. Once his tongue dragged right up over your pussy, your head was falling back with a beaming grin to the ceiling, “Yes.”

You had come to learn over the summer that they each had their strengths and it was a genuine fact that you could never get enough of Pierre’s mouth. In fact, many nights, he would go down on you until you were shaking and begging him to stop. He always just wanted one more orgasm out of you and maybe that’s what kept you going back and what kept you opening your legs for him. This was no different as he licked at your pussy and peppered open mouthed kisses over your glistening thighs and he suckled on your lips to make sure he was covering every last inch of you with his mouth. 

“Oh my God, Pierre.” you whimpered, draping your arms above your head. 

His large hands groped your flesh where your thighs met your ass and he spread you open to permit his tongue between your lips, lapping at the sweetness that dripped out of you before finally dragging a straight shot right up to your clit. You gasped hard, back arching off the bed slightly, and you choked out his name to the ceiling. 

George, still sitting naked at your side, collected your wrists in his one large hand and kept your arms pinned above your head, ordering firmly, “Be a good fucking girl for us and hold still.”

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip to try and contain yourself despite the way Pierre was repeatedly stroking his full tongue over your aching clit. You swore your entire body was sizzling, hungry and pulsing for some sort of release of all that pesky pressure building inside you and the moans that tumbled messily from your lips were only proof of that. 

George’s hand was still pinning your wrists down to your bed but his other was aimlessly stroking his cock as his gaze was focused on the way Pierre went down on you, finding it incredibly hot to watch the way you spread your legs for another man despite that twinge of jealousy inside him that he wasn’t often familiar with. So, instead, he shuffled closer to you on his knees and let go of your wrists so he could pull your face in his direction and rub the head of his cock over your lips. 

“Open.” he said lowly. 

You took a breath before parting your lips and letting him push in his dick, your eyebrows furrowing slightly as he filled your mouth all while Pierre still tended to your clit in perfect wet strokes. George caressed your cheek with his warm hand and brushed your sweaty hair back from your face as he thrusted shallowly into your mouth so your cheek bulged slightly from the head of his cock. Your eyes fluttered shut through a soft moan, blindly moving a hand to wrap around the base of his dick to help keep him steady in your mouth while your legs draped over Pierre’s shoulders to pull him closer. 

“You’re such a pretty little slut.” George cooed, trailing his fingers through your hair. 

You tried to focus on him but Pierre’s mouth ravishing you between your legs was making any other task intensely difficult. Pierre wrapped his entire arms around your thighs to yank you closer to his mouth, holding you in place, and his nose brushed across your clit as his tongue nudged inside you again. You moaned messily around George as your other hand reached down to tangle in Pierre’s messy brown hair, helping yourself to nudge your hips up against his mouth some more. 

When you pulled away from George’s cock for a moment to breathe, your hand picked up the slack in messy strokes slicked up from your spit while your head lifted up from the bed to look down at Pierre. Pierre’s blue eyes were already looking right back up at you from between your legs with half his face hidden as he smothered himself in your pussy, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs that were nearly wrapped around his head. The breathy moans and whimpers that tumbled from your lips were nearly involuntary and your head dropped back against the bed with the strong growing pleasure coursing through you. 

George rubbed the head of his cock across your swollen lips, urging your mouth to open and he slipped inside again. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as he took up your mouth in shallow thrusts and you tried to be good for him and give him all that you could at that angle. He seemed to take that upon himself though as his hand tangled in the back of your hair and his hips nudged a bit harder into your mouth until he was reaching the back of your throat and making you gag on his dick. 

“Don’t take your mouth off it.” George told you lowly, holding you down on him with your nose nearly touching the dark hair that dotted the base of his cock. 

You gagged loudly around him, tears blurring your vision and leaking down your flushed cheeks, and your hands pressed pleadingly against his thigh and his abdomen even as he gave you a few more shallow thrusts behind nearly pitch perfect moans. A few seconds later he was pulling right out, letting you heave a gasp of air as you coughed through the spit that drooled down your chin right at the moment where Pierre slipped two fingers inside you, forcing you to choke over your breath. Your hand kept stroking George’s cock while Pierre’s tongue found your clit again and he pressed warm wet kisses over it before taking it between his lips to suck on while his fingers nudged inside you strongly. 

“My fucking God-” you choked out, writhing against the bedsheets. 

George slapped his hand down against one of your bare breasts and then the other before finishing with a third smack to your cheek and then he was reaching down to grab your ankle and he yanked your legs open. With your legs forced apart, Pierre’s tongue had more direct access to your clit and his fingers were shoving into your sopping cunt at that perfect angle that tore the breath from your lungs. In fact, as he drew you closer, you habitually held your breath, limbs tensing as that intense warmth coiled tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach. 

George’s hand smacking against your cheek again startled the air into your chest, forcing you to squeak out a pitchy, “Fuck!” 

“Are you gonna cum for another man right in front of me?” George taunted from beside you, groping your breasts one at a time and pinching your nipples just to add onto your already intense sensations.

You couldn’t do anything else but nod feverishly with a pitiful, “Uh huh.”

“Yeah? Wanna cum on his mouth?” 

Your fingers tightened in Pierre’s hair, yanking him closer as his tongue and fingers worked in sync to finish you off, your eyes screwing shut as you body trembled, meaningless words tumbling from your lips, “Yes, yes, yes-”

“Good girl.” George’s hand wrapped around your throat while his other kept a snug grasp on your ankle to keep your legs spread wide for Pierre’s tongue. His blue eyes focused on your flushed face as he spoke to you with a lust that weaved itself through each word within his thick London accent, “Show me what an insatiable little whore you are and cum on his fucking mouth.”

Your mouth fell open dumbly, glazed eyes rolling back as your body shuttered against the sheets and bursts of pleasure took over your body. You could hardly recall crying out Pierre’s name through your moans as you struggled to get your senses about yourself, trying to turn away from his mouth that cleaned you up with an eager tongue. He would have easily stayed down there to make you cum over and over but he didn’t want to be selfish about it - there was another person involved after all. 

So, instead, Pierre shifted up from between your legs, speaking down to you with that unmissable smirk of his, “What do you say?” 

“Thank you.” you whimpered, letting him capture your words with his mouth in a filthy kiss. He still tasted like you and your arms tossed around his shoulders as you sucked on his tongue, trying to get his naked body against yours by your leg wrapping around his waist until he was slipping out of your arms just as quickly.

“Switch.”

Your head turned to George as he dictated the next move with a cock of his head and Pierre generously moved off the bed entirely, giving you room to take the initiative to rotate yourself 90-degrees so you were laying across the mattress at the ready for your other handsome suitor. George helped himself to your bedside drawer where he pulled out the half empty box of condoms and took one out to set between his lips as he situated himself on his knees between your spread legs. 

“Who says you get to fuck her first?” Pierre said with a playful edge to his voice. 

“I’m the original, in case you forgot.” George countered with a sly smirk, “I think I get priority.” 

Pierre was right on the reply, “Shame she had to find a second man to properly satisfy her then.”

“Okay, okay.” you hushed them with a soft chuckle, “Don’t go and fight over me now.” 

George ripped open the condom with his teeth as his narrowed eyes stayed directed to Pierre who was standing on the other side of the bed. You couldn’t see Pierre from how you were laying with him standing above where your head was, but that was fine since the sight of George rolling on the condom was highly intriguing to you. Despite the generous way in which Pierre finished you mere moments before, you still had that pesky ache that throbbed between your legs as you watched George prep to take you in the middle of your bed and so you reached a hand down to rub your fingers over your messy pussy impatiently. You slid two inside you for a moment, slicking them up in your wetness before taking them back out to spread your lips apart for him, taunting him silently. The low groan that fell from the Brit’s chest had you biting back your cocky grin; only more so as he shuffled closer to you on his knees so he could nudge the protected head of his cock right between your spread fingers. 

Your eyes were focused down your body to stare, waiting for him to push inside you, and when you looked up at his face, you spoke to his stormy blue eyes with a whispered, “Please.”

The sly smirk that pricked at his lips was reply enough and no sooner was your weak request spoken was he slipping inside you steadily. Your hands slid up his bare body and over his chest with a strained moan at the initial stretch that was much more intense than Pierre’s fingers had been. And when your fingers tangled in the back of his luscious brown hair, you pulled him in for a sloppy tongue-led kiss and met him halfway, sharing hungry moans into each other’s mouths. 

Pierre watched for a moment from his spot at the side of the bed, having a perfect view right down your body to watch you get fucked by another man when your kiss broke apart. You were a fan of watching too; lifting your head up from the mattress to stare down between your spread legs to see how your pussy stretched around George’s perfect cock and accepted every last inch of him. Your hands wrapped around his biceps as he rested on flat hands and straight arms on either side of your body, starting to thrust greedily into you. 

“Fuck yeah.” you breathed, your hushed encouragement laced with a pretty whimper. 

From above you, Pierre’s hand was taken to his dick and he couldn’t help but give himself haphazard pumps to try and rid that seemingly ever present ache. The sounds alone were enough, finding his head spinning from the creamy wet squeltches of your cunt and those lewd sounds of skin on skin in rhythmic succession. It was human nature; who could blame him? 

Your head fell back against your mattress with a whine, skin flushing hot from the pleasure that burned within you, and your hands drifted from George’s arms to his shoulders with a quivering, “My God, George, fuck.” 

Both men never failed to make you feel like heaven, knowing exactly what to do and how to do it to bring that dopey pleasured expression to your face. George’s precise curling strokes were no different, only being pulled into you harder by your legs wrapped around his waist. He seemed lost in you, moving one hand higher up the mattress to press beside your head as a rich moan fell from his chest, keeping the consistent snap of his hips against yours. 

“Yeah, gimme it.” you pleaded with a voice that sounded like you were fighting tears. “Please, sir.”

Pierre’s hands on your arms startled you and suddenly he was yanking you closer to the edge of the bed towards him. George shuffled after you right away and he guided your legs up towards your chest as he pushed back inside you and picked up where he left off from his knees. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you were at that perfect height for Pierre to slap his hard cock against your face and you couldn’t help the surprised giggle that passed your spitty lips. The two men smiled themselves at your sweet enjoyment with George still nestled deep inside you and Pierre then helping himself to your mouth. You kept your hands wrapped snugly around George’s biceps as he held your thighs back towards your chest, giving himself a perfect little hole to thrust into. And with your head hanging off the side of the bed, Pierre wasn’t much different in the sense that he, too, was shoving messily into you, taken by the warm wet confines of your mouth. His groan when he hit the back of your throat was nearly muffled by your gag and out of instinct your nails dug into George’s skin. 

“Take it.” George ordered, staring down at you beneath him and the faint bulge in your throat that appeared with every one of Pierre’s thrusts into your mouth. He stayed steady himself, pushing into your pliant body, his familiar hands pressing strongly into the backs of your thighs to literally hold you in half. 

You couldn’t stay like that for long with Pierre’s cock blocking your airway as you gagged around him messily, trying to be good for him, with his balls nudging against your face with his every shallow thrust. When he pulled out of your mouth again, you gasped almost violently, desperately pulling air into your lungs as your own spit smeared across your cheeks from the head of his cock. It was hard to catch your breath, however, when George was fucking it right back out of you, not slowing down for a second. You could feel tears burning your eyes from how good it felt and your chin tucked down to your chest to watch between your spread legs with an expression of pure screwed up pleasure. 

Pierre crouched down by your head that was still hovered over the side of the mattress, whispering right against your ear, “Look at you taking that fucking cock like such a good little slut.”

You only whimpered in reply, not tearing your eyes away from the lewd scene before you. George moved one of his hands from your leg to tangle in the back of your hair instead, keeping your head up just like that so you truly had no choice but to watch as he fucked you. So you held your legs back on your own, pulling them back and open wide with your hands on the backs of your knees. 

“That’s it,” Pierre praised against your ear as the intensity from George had your bed creaking faintly underneath you, and he reached down to grope your breasts in his hands at the same time, “spread those fucking legs for him. Letting him fuck your pussy like you’re some stupid toy…having us take turns using you. Can’t get enough dick, can you, cherié?” 

All you could whine out was a blubbery “no” in reply as your eyes raised to George’s face again. 

“Fuck.” he groaned tightly at the sight of your expression, “Look at that sweet face.” 

“George...” you whimpered up at him. 

“Fuck, yeah, gorgeous.” he said through his teeth, starting to speed up his thrusts a bit more as he stared right into your eyes, head still cradeled in his hand as he cooed down to you, “That’s my girl.” 

Pierre’s hands on your breasts pinched at your nipples as his lips found your neck, trailing slow open mouthed kisses across your warm skin in time with his rough touch. Then he was sliding his hands farther down your body and past the curve of your hips and between your spread thighs and his right hand dipped down to let his fingertips graze over your clit. The soft squeak that slipped from your throat had him smiling against your neck and he nipped at your earlobe before letting his fingers start to rub precise circles over your swollen clit, matching the pace of George’s thrusts almost perfectly. 

“Oh my God.” you moaned out, trying to toss your head back habitually but George’s grasp at the back of your neck prevented you. Instead, your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you were forced to watch as you held your legs open wide by your own free will, tears brimming with pleasurable tears as the whimpery moans tumbled helplessly from your mouth and you could barely get out a trembling, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Should we keep going?” Pierre taunted against your ear. 

“Yes!” you answered hurriedly, “Yes, please keep going. Please don’t fucking stop!” 

“Yeah? Think you deserve that?” Pierre’s fingers rubbed faster at your clit, his other hand pinching one of your nipples again, and then he was looking up at George and directing to him, “Think she deserves to cum again?”

You tried to plead with him with your eyes but before you could even give a proper attempt, he was pulling right out of you. At almost the same time, Pierre took his fingers away, leaving you with a smack to your cheek as he stood up again. You writhed in frustration against your bed, George’s sudden distance allowing your head to fall off the edge of the mattress as you cried out pathetically to the ceiling and your hands pressed between your legs. 

As if ignorant to your whining, the two men shifted their positions, casually speaking their game plan into existence starting with George’s question, “Wanna turn her over?”

“Yeah.” Pierre knelt up on the bed too and he took that time to roll on a condom.

You didn’t even need to move on your own as George maneuvered you how they wanted you with near ease, grabbing your arm and yanking you over onto your stomach. He then grabbed your hips and guided your ass up, forcing you to be bent at the waist and he leaned down to spread your cheeks and get a quick taste of you himself. You groaned into the sheets and pushed back against his mouth, your eyes fluttering shut, but no sooner did he start was he pulling away and giving your ass a smack to let Pierre take over. 

“Tastes good, huh?” Pierre chuckled. 

George licked away his cocky grin, “Fuck yeah.” 

“Maybe we should turn her that way?” Pierre gestured to the headboard. 

“I was gonna stand in front of her.” George countered casually. 

“Oh, yeah, okay, that works.” Pierre agreed as he shuffled up behind you on his knees. 

“You’re teaming up on me. This isn’t fair.” you said lightheartedly, trying to look back at them over your shoulder. 

“Isn’t that exactly what you wanted?” George argued lightly as he got off the bed and walked around to stand in front of you. 

You had no rebuttal since he was entirely correct so you just smothered your smile into the crook of your arm as he took off the condom, letting it drop to the floor to be dealt with later so his entirely natural dick could press up against your lips. From behind you at the same time, Pierre was slipping the protected head of his cock between your sopping pussy and he nudged it teasingly against you a few times before finally guiding himself inside you. 

Your fingers grasped onto the edge of the mattress at the pressure that he pushed across your hips, stretching you around his cock, and his hands on your hips guided you back into him until your ass pressed against his pelvis. With your trembling moan, George took that opportunity to angle his dick against your mouth and you naturally let your jaw fall slack to welcome him in against your tongue. Pierre’s lazy testing thrusts had you moaning around George greedily and your eyes fluttered shut contently, entirely entrusting of the both of them. 

Pierre’s hands kneaded the flesh of your hips and he groaned warmly as he pulled you back on him more until there was absolutely no space between you, sheathing himself completely inside you. Your body burned for more attention, desperate for more of anything, and you couldn’t help but instinctively start to fuck yourself back onto Pierre’s cock yourself, ultimately making you start to suck George off at the same pace. George’s fingers trailed through your hair over the crown of your head, pushing your bangs out of your face politely so you could have free reign of his cock in your mouth - and so he could get a better view of it. With your tangled hair draped over one shoulder, your mouth could take to him freely in back and forth strokes made by the way you pushed your body back on Pierre at a steady pace. 

With a sharp slap to your ass, Pierre announced matter-of-factly, “Fucking slut.”

You could barely offer a sweet moan in reply before he was grabbing your hips again and starting to fuck you himself. Your fingers tightened around the edge of the mattress, trying to keep your mouth tending to George but the pleasure that tore through you had you freezing up. So he took it upon himself to thrust into your mouth in return, taking to the other half of your body in shallow possessive strokes. You gagged around him messily, drooling down your chin and onto the bedsheets, your eyes blurring tears from the combination of the both of them. 

The slick sound of Pierre’s skin clapping with yours filled your modest bedroom and as he fucked you harder, it only grew louder and more intense. You couldn’t help but naturally try to move away from the strength of it, turning your head away from George to hide your face in the sheets with a strained whimper, your body writhing against the mattress. 

But Pierre stopped just long enough to yank you back into place, ordering firmly with another spank, “Keep your ass up.”

“Sorry-” your words were cut off as he grabbed a fistfull of your hair and yanked your head up, forcing you to gasp out the rest, “sir.”

With your hair in his one handed grip, he was in complete control of you, keeping you at his mercy as he pounded into you from behind. His free hand came down hard against your ass, leaving a blushing red handprint on your flesh that he made darker with another slap. You swore you were drooling from it, eyes glossy with pleasure, trying to focus on George’s shimmering caramel skin right in front of your face. 

George’s fingers trailed over your lips and he slipped two into your mouth for you to suck on, speaking to the room with a tone full of hushed surprised realization, “My God, I love watching you get fucked.” 

You moaned around his fingers, teary eyes raising to look up at his face as Pierre’s grip on your hair kept your head back. George pulled his hand back, his fingers glistening in your spit, and he started to stroke his cock in purposeful strokes, staring right back into your eyes. You couldn’t help the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you stared back at him, your expression wavering with each aggressive thrust from the man behind you. Pierre’s hand coming down hard against your ass again had you flinching.

“Ah- Fuck, Pierre!” you blurted out. 

“Yeah?” he slowed just long enough to give your hair a yank again, “Don’t just lay there. Suck his dick.”

George took over for him with his hand in your hair and he shuffled himself a bit closer to the edge of your bed to guide your mouth back down on him. Once he was nestled back in your mouth, Pierre was picking up the pace again to find a more sustainable but just as strong intensity that had your eyebrows furrowing. Brushing your hair over one of your shoulders before taking it in his fist in a makeshift ponytail, George was staring down at you with the very definition of lust across his face. 

“Good girl.” he praised richly. 

With your elbow resting on the mattress, you reached your hand up to wrap around the base of his cock and help to guide your movements, moaning around him warmly even as he started to thrust into your mouth a little more. You could hardly see behind the tears that pricked your eyes thanks to the both of them completely taking you over, but you let the rivers of pleasure carve their way down your cheeks without a single complaint. 

As George nudged against the back of your throat, Pierre let out a stiff groan from behind you, squeezing your hips as he spoke aloud, “I can tell when she gags on your dick because she tries to push me out.” 

You whimpered, half embarrassed at how they were always so aware of your every slight reaction, but you couldn’t focus on much else with each of them stuffing you full from either end. They took up all of your senses, all of your thoughts, all of your desires, until you were a nearly incomprehensible, hazy, drooling mess between them. You were so muddled in pleasure, in fact, that you weren’t even aware they had spoken their next move out loud until they were pulling out of you at the same time and you were left with aching emptiness. 

“No-” you barely whimpered out, glancing over your shoulder as Pierre pulled off the condom and then shifted his position on your bed. 

George then joined you too, being tossed another condom from Pierre in the process, and then he was nudging your hip, “Stay just like this but face the top of the bed there, gorgeous.” 

On quivering limbs, you shifted yourself ninety-degrees to face towards the headboard on hands and knees and, ultimately, where Pierre was situated. He was resting on his knees in front of you, his glistening dick in hand, and you couldn’t help but press a fleeting kiss to the tip. He smirked down at you and tucked your hair behind your ear while you kept yourself bent at the waist for George who was rolling on the fresh condom behind you. 

“That’s it.” George breathed, shuffling up closer behind you to angle the protected head of his cock between your legs, “So willing to just let us fuck you in every position we want, huh?”

You wiggled back on him with a sweet, “Mhm.”

“Yeah,” he praised lowly as he pushed inside you steadily with a soft groan, “Good fucking girl.” 

“Oh my God.” you moaned shakily, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he started to thrust into with ease, “Fuck, you’re so fucking big.”

George’s hand came down in a sharp spank against your ass before he was grabbing a handful of your flesh and tugging you back into his every consistent stroke, blessing your bedroom with the sound of his slick skin colliding with yours. With your forearms on either side of Pierre, his dick was right in your face, and you smothered your involuntary whimpers by wrapping your lips around it and sinking your mouth right down. Pierre’s fingers tangled in your hair and from his position on his knees in front of you, staring down at you as your mouth worked on him messily and you drooled down your chin. You shifted in front of him to reach him a little better with the opportunity to wrap your hand around the base of his lengthy cock.

But then George’s hands slid from your hips to the dip of your waist and he pressed the heels of his palms into the small of your back, telling you firmly, “Arch your back.”

You forced yourself deeper for him, bent in half right down against the mattress until your cheek was caressed by the wrinkled duvet. Your fingers clutched the fabric in white-knuckled grips, eyes fluttering as your chest moaned beautiful symphonies from his precise strokes and the way he hit in all the right spots that you swore you were seeing stars. Pierre’s hand pet your hair out of your flushed face before giving your cheek a faint smack, watching your hazy expression as you were fucked by another man. 

“George-” you whimpered shakily, trying to look over your shoulder at him. 

Without hesitating, George pointed towards the direction of your bedside table and directed to Pierre, “Pass me that?”

You could hardly get your eyes to focus on anything of sustenance to know what he was requesting, too drunk on his dick to think of much else. But as Pierre shifted from in front of you to reach towards the cluttered surface of your bedside table, he clarified, “The camera?”

“Yeah.”

“George-” you pleaded, nearly melting into your mattress. 

As he situated the camera in his hands behind you - while still keeping his precise thrusts going - Pierre maneuvered himself in front of you so he was sitting properly on your bed and resting back against the pillows and headboard, leaving his legs parted on either side of you so you could nestle right between them. Your arms naturally went over his thighs and his dick was right in your face again but you let it rest against your cheek for a moment as you lingered in that haze of pleasure. 

“Look at me a sec, sugar.” George requested. 

Pierre helped to pull your hair over one shoulder as you looked back towards George, your natural expression being picture-perfect and the sound of the shutter and a burst of the flash in the dimly lit bedroom. 

“Beautiful.” George complimented as the polaroid printed from the base of the camera and he gave it a little shake before tossing it aimlessly onto the bed. Still nestled inside you all the way, he gave you a few more haphazard thrusts before lifting the camera up again to peer through the viewfinder, angling it down to get that perfect shot of your body bent over before him. He kept you there with a warm, “Just like that.”

Another click of the shutter and burst of flash and a second polaroid picture was dropped onto the bed beside you to develop. You blinked away the colourful shapes that floated in front of your eyes thanks to the interruption of that sudden bright light, turning your head back to face Pierre’s lap and his fingers scratched through the roots of your hair gently, silently guiding your mouth towards his achingly hardly cock. 

“One more,” George encouraged, watching through the camera lens, “Put his dick in your mouth.”

You reached a hand over to wrap around the base of Pierre’s cock and you guided it towards your outstretched tongue, pausing there a moment for the photo opportunity until the flash went off again, encapsulating the both of them on either side of you in the most erotic way in a polaroid picture. 

“Good girl.” George praised. 

His praise in that sweet accent of his had you melting into a cheeky smile, sliding your arms farther across the bed on either side of Pierre’s lap so your face was nestled right in his lap and your mouth took as much of his cock as you could. You moaned happily around him, warm from praise and affection, truly not wanting to be anywhere else at that moment. 

“Our own little centrefold.” Pierre tisked, his voice low and deep with lust, watching you suck lazily on him as his fingers trailed through your hair. “Little fucking exhibitionist slut.”

“Mhm.” George tossed your camera onto the bed alongside the polaroids to give you his full attention again and the warmth of his large rough hands caressing your hips and your ass made you groan around Pierre’s cock. Then, with another spank, George was picking up the pace again, fucking you selfishly into your bed and, ultimately, right into Pierre’s lap as he spoke down to you in a taunting coo, “Poor thing can’t seem to ever be satisfied.”

You pulled off Pierre’s dick with a pitchy whine and a thick string of spit still connecting you, pushing yourself up onto your hands instead for a new angle as you fucked yourself back into George’s motions. Pierre took over with his hand himself, keeping his gaze focused on your euphoric expression as you were taken by another man right in front of him. 

“That’s it.” he exhaled with a lick and a bite to his plush lips, “Merde, you take it so fucking well.”

Your palms were still pressed flat to the bed on either side of his lap so you were basically face to face, although your attention was more so towards the man behind you at that moment. Face screwed up in pleasure and tears brimming in your eyes, you were a moaning, whimpering mess, and your sounds were only countered by the slick clap of his skin with yours and the creak of your bed beneath you. 

“Fuck, George!” you cried out shakily, “Right there, right there! Fuck!” 

“Yeah, take that dick, baby.” Pierre praised through his teeth, using his free hand that wasn’t pumping his cock to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and fingers. 

One look into Pierre’s pretty blue eyes and all that pleasure was building up inside you faster and faster, acting as the catalyst to bring you right to the edge by just a glance. He kept you focused on him like that, forcing you to stare into his eyes, helped only more so by George’s hand yanking at your hair to keep your head right up. 

“You gonna cum for us again?” George taunted from behind you as he kept his strong pace going.

“Yes, sir.” you squeaked out. “Please let me cum.”

“Such a good girl with good fucking manners.” Pierre cooed as he took his hand from your face just long enough to give your cheek a few smacks. “Keep making these pretty fucking sounds of yours.”

“Oh, please.” you whimpered loudly, melting into a blubbering mess of moans and whines that were incomprehensible. The slick erotic clap of skin on skin fought with the volume of your noises, making a lewd symphony in your dimly lit bedroom with your sweaty body captured between the two men who had you in the palms of their hands. They weren’t quiet either; the sounds of their panted breaths and handsome groans going right between your quivering legs.

Pierre’s fingers squished your cheeks snugly to keep your glossy eyes on his while George’s fist in your hair kept your head up and your body in just the right position for him. He was giving you every last inch in quick succession, absolutely having his way with you, and the tears that streaked down your cheeks were born from nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure. His name fell from your spitty lips like second nature since your brain could hardly make sense of any proper sentences, letting a stumbling chant of his name fill the hot sticky air between you. 

And as your euphoria rose to its peak, you squeaking out a warning, “I’m cumming-”

George gave you a hard spank as you fell into waves of pleasure under his control, your body tensing on your quivering arms, and you fell perfectly silent for a moment, gaping dumbly without tearing your eyes away from Pierre’s firm gaze.

“Good fucking girl.” Pierre praised you strongly directly to your face as his right hand kept stroking his cock, “That’s my good little slut; cum all over his fucking dick.”

You gasped out of it, heaving for air as your limbs trembled, and you finally tore your attention away from Pierre so you could look back towards George and reach a hand back to grasp his thigh and slow him down.

“O-Oh my God.” you whimpered, wincing as he pulled out of you and left you with another little smack to your ass. 

“Look at you shaking.” George chuckled warmly, “I didn’t even do much.”

“Mm,” you pushed yourself away from Pierre so you were sitting back on your knees in the middle of your messy bed, thighs visibly vibrating, “you know just what I like.”

George’s hand wrapped around your throat and he pulled your head back just enough to get his lips on yours. You shared a few breathless tongue-led kisses before he was breaking away to retrieve your polaroid camera from across the bed before it could risk being broken. Pierre took that opportunity to adjust himself in front of you to keep himself leaning back comfortably against the headboard and pillows and he grabbed your wrist to guide you towards him.

“C’mere. I want a turn.” he demanded. 

You tucked your hair behind your ears, unable to lick away your giddy grin as you shuffled closer to him on your knees and straddled his lap carefully. Your skin was glistening in sweat, leaving you in a faint glimmer that his hands caressed over longingly as he pulled you into his arms. Dipping down to kiss his plush lips, you let him adjust you blindly on his lap until you could feel the head of his cock against your warm swollen pussy, taunting you with the risk of feeling him raw. 

“Here.” George’s voice tore you away from Pierre’s lips and you watched as he tossed him another condom from your half-empty box, sharing a teasing, “These are gonna be gone by the end of the night at this rate.”

Pierre didn’t seem bothered by the reminder of contraception and he caught it with an amused smirk to his counterpart and then ripped it open with his teeth, all while keeping one hand around your back to hold you close. Your fingers scratched through the back of his brunette waves, impatiently waiting for him to roll it on himself - and keeping your sudden lust-fueled desire to just skip the hassle of condoms all together to yourself. His tongue dragged across one of your nipples as his arm around your waist guided you closer, mingling your sweaty skin with his spit as he slid the protected head of his cock between your lips and nudged it against your sensitive clit.

Your hips jumped naturally at his teasing touches and you felt him smile against your breast before he was easing you down onto his dick. Your mouth fell open habitually, head tilting back just a little as the breath caught in your chest for a moment, and you sank down on him easily after plenty of warm-up. Pierre groaned lowly, his lips wrapping around your other nipple to suck on, and his large hands groped your ass and pulled your hips right up against his so you were flush together. 

After a brief second, you tucked your hair over your shoulder and let your hands rest on his chest as he broke away from your breasts to look up at your face properly. Keeping that unwavering eye contact, you started to rise up and then sink back down on him in slow curling motions that had his eyebrows furrowing slightly, his lips parting in the sweetest expression. And the sound was unbelievable, that lewd wet squelch of your pussy taking him all in, wrapping around him so snugly.

“Mm, my God, you’re so fucking creamy.” Pierre chuckled lowly, licking away his grin, “I can feel it through the condom.”

“You’re welcome.” George piped up from the foot of the bed, taking his second to just watch.

“It was a joint effort.” Pierre retorted lightheartedly, punctuating his fact with a spank to your rosy flesh. You shared in his smile and leaned down for a kiss, licking your way into his mouth to earn a groan from his chest. His hands on your ass helped to guide your lazy motions, settling you into a steady pace to start to ride him properly on your quivering thighs. 

After a few seconds, you pulled away from his lips to meet his gaze with your hands on his shoulders and your bottom lip between your teeth. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself on top of him like that and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, taking what you wanted from him in lazy bounces with your tangled hair falling messily around your head like a voluminous halo. The sight of him licking his lips as he stared at you had your insides in a whirl, head falling backwards with a soft groan of pleasure to the ceiling, in a trance from the steady clap, clap, clap of your ass meeting his thighs in that dizzying rhythm. 

“That’s it.” Pierre praised you richly, “That’s my girl.” 

The mattress dipped slightly as George joined you on the bed again and he moved closer to smack his hand down against your ass. He himself was all too used to watching you like that from below so he took that opportunity to soak up the new angle, big blue eyes lingering on every inch of your glistening body. You couldn’t see him with how you were facing towards the top of the bed but you could feel him behind you, watching, his hand that wasn’t stroking his cock sliding down your spine. 

With a gentle push against your lower back, he firmly requested, “Show me.” 

You knew what he wanted as you bent forward at the waist and Pierre’s hands helped to drape your hair over one shoulder so he didn’t get a face full of it as you leaned over top of him. You rested on your forearms on either side of his head, trying to glance back over your shoulder towards the other man behind you. Pierre caressed your body with his large hands, sliding down to your hips and over the curve of your ass before he was grabbing two snug handfuls of your flesh and pulling them apart to really show off how you were nestled right down on him. Despite the shift in position, you kept pushing back on his dick in lazy motions, whining softly at the pressure that the length of him pushed deep inside you. 

George exhaled warmly from his front row seat, watching how you were wrapped around Pierre’s cock so tightly with your every motion, speaking lowly from behind you, “You’re so stretched out.” 

“Isn’t she?” Pierre took his hand back to give your ass a smack before he was sliding his palms up to your waist and gave your curves a squeeze as he flexed his hips up into you, “Such a perfect fucking pussy for us. Such a perfect fucking girl.” 

Your fingers grasped onto the sheets on either side of him with a groan from your chest, stalling your motions to let him take over for you. You stared down at him from your rightful spot on top of him, lip between your teeth, keeping your eyes locked on his. 

“Pretty little slut just wants to be used.” he cooed, gently nudging up into you in precise shallow thrusts and watching how your expression faltered. 

“Oh my God, Pierre-“ you whimpered softly and you pushed yourself up onto your hands on either side of his head. At that new position you could arch your back just a little more to help him find just the right angle inside you. Your mouth dropped open with a hearty moan as your grip tightened on the pillow over straight arms. 

Pierre pushed himself a little harder, thrusting up into you with a tight grunt of his own, keeping a strong pace just deep enough to kiss your g-spot head on every time. His hands gripped your hips tighter, unbothered by how George shifted across the bed and yanked open your bedside table again. You, especially, were ignorant to his move as you were so easily put back into that trance of pleasure by the control of his just as handsome counterpart. 

Your soft whimpers only spurred Pierre on and you grew louder by the second, filling your bedroom at the late hour with your euphoric gasps and squeals, chanting to the four walls and the man below you, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, right there!”

“Yeah?” Pierre spoke up to you through his teeth, “Does that feel good, baby? Feeling something so big in your tiny little pussy?”

“Fuck-“ you choked out, forcing your head to turn away as his vulgar words made his eye contact almost too overwhelming. 

Feeling George coming up behind you was expected and Pierre slowed for a moment to make sure you were all situated. You weren’t sure of George’s intentions at first until his lube streaked hand was smearing over your asshole and down to where Pierre was nestled inside you and back up again. 

“I think our girl has been so fucking good for us that we should give her what she wanted now.” George suggested. 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Pierre agreed, keeping his hands on your waist to hold you in place with you leaning over top of him on your hands still. 

You had tried anal with each of them only a handful of times total before but never in a circumstance like this so you couldn’t help the way your grip tightened on the sheets in uncertain anticipation. George’s full lips pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder and then another to your neck as he moved closer to angle the protected head of his cock between your full cheeks, right next to where Pierre was already nestled inside you. 

“You still want this?” George asked against your sweaty skin. 

“Yeah,” you exhaled, “so badly.”

“Use your words.” he coaxed as he nudged the head of his dick against your asshole. 

So you repeated the words they made you say out loud in the taxi, pleading to them both with an angelic whisper, “I want you both inside me.”

“Good girl.” George praised, sliding his left hand up your back to keep you bent over top of Pierre while his other hand carefully guided his dick to press a little harder against your tight rim of muscle. 

“Slow, slow, slow.” you hurried out in a half nervous panic. 

“Shh, I know.” he cooed easily as he started to push inside you the slightest amount, “I got you.”

“Look at me.” Pierre spoke from below you, urging your eyes to lock on his again, “There you are.”

He reached a hand up to set on the back of your neck to bring your forehead down to his, keeping you close with your eye contact unbreaking, giving you that slight distraction as George pushed inside you slowly. 

“You’re such a good fucking girl.” he spoke right to your face in a hushed tone, his voice laced with warm heavenly lust as you stared into his comforting blue eyes, “Our perfect fucking cockslut so willing to take both of us at the same time.”

“Mhm.” you whimpered out, trying to breathe through the aching stretch that radiated over your hips and deep inside you. 

“Gonna feel so fucking good. We’re gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

George gave your hips a gentle squeeze as he held you in place, “This okay?”

“Yeah.” you squeaked out. 

“Can you take more?”

“Gimme it all.” you answered easily. 

The two men chuckled warmly at your quick reply and George kept pushing into you, watching how your incredibly tight body took him in so snugly. His own warm groan was igniting, his large hand kneading the flesh of your hips as he eased deeper into you.

“There you go, that’s our girl.” Pierre cooed up at you, scratching his fingers along your hairline at the nape of your neck.

George added, “Just want every last inch so you’re completely fucking stuffed with dick.”

“I love it.” you blurted out shakily in reply. 

“Yeah?” Pierre licked away his cocky smile as he slid his hand from the back of your neck to wrap his fingers around your throat instead, “Fucking slut.”

Then, he gently pushed you away from him with that hand around your neck and eased you up into more of a sitting position on top of him but neither of you broke your intense eye contact. The slight shift had the both of them pushing against all the right spots inside you and your mouth fell open faintly with a soft moan, eyebrows furrowing, shifting ever so slightly in place to feel the heat of that strong pressure that burned within you. With your palms anchored on Pierre’s bare chest, you took a second to familiarize yourself with the newfound position and George’s tender hand draped your frazzled hair over one shoulder. 

“How’s that feel?” George asked from behind you, his warm breath fanning across your neck. 

“Mm,” you leaned back into him slightly and his lips pressed a slow open mouthed kiss to your shoulder as you kept your attention on the warm snug fullness from the both of them, “so fucking good.”

“Yeah?” George’s hand slid around your waist to dip down and gently caress your clit, urging your body to shutter under his ghostly touch. 

“This what you wanted?” Pierre taunted, tightening his hand around your throat. 

“Fuck yeah.” you exhaled, already starting to try and move on the both of them despite the scrunch of your nose at the intense stretch that radiated across your hips and deep inside you. Slowly and steadily, the initial discomfort eased into pure pleasure and as the seconds passed, your cautious movements could shift into needier rocks of your hips back onto the both of them with your nails pressing into Pierre’s pecs beneath you, scratching through the faint hair. 

“Good girl.” they both said at the same time. Despite their simultaneous praise, their attention was too focused on you to really notice or care, falling into the pleasurable sensations themselves of not only getting the privilege to feel you, but the added snugness that came with the second individual nestled inside you alongside themselves. 

George started to meet your motions on his own too, giving you gentle thrusts to ease you open a little more, keeping his slender fingers petting your clit in lazy circles to keep you distracted from any possible soreness. His lips were nearly magnetized to your neck and shoulder and his warm breath and soft groans of his own fanned across your skin and rose shivers in his wake, the sensations only made more intense by the way Pierre’s hand gripped the sides of your neck. You couldn’t help the pleading whine that fell from your lips as you rode both of them at the same time, taking your hands from Pierre’s chest to move to your own and you squeezed and pinched your breasts in your palms just to add yet another point of contact to your overwhelmed body. 

Pierre’s hand moved from your neck just long enough to give your cheek a sharp slap and your gasp took even you by surprise, only making him hit you again while his other hand squeezed your doughy hip as if to tug you back and forth on his lap with more intensity. The two of them sounded heavenly with their harmonious moans and panted breaths of their own, the two bringing music to your ears as you made them feel as good as they did to you. The world was hazy as you surrounded yourself with their pleasure, encouraging them with a messy tumble of whimpers from your swollen parted lips into the warm air of your bedroom. 

Once Pierre grabbed hold of your waist and started to nudge his hips up into you again, your hands dropped down to his chest to ground yourself, gasping out a pleading chant of, “Please, please, please, please-”

George grabbed a snug handful of your hair, mocking you warmly, “Please, please, please, please, what?” 

Pierre was right on his side with a taunting, “Want us to fuck you harder?” 

You nodded quickly, your messy curls falling over your face, “Uh huh.”

“Say it.” Pierre demanded without tearing his eyes away from your flushed face. 

George backed him up with ease, insisting to you firmly, “Say it. Use your fucking words and tell us what you want.”

You whimpered in reply, trying to arrange words in your head first to try and piece together a logical sentence before you stumbled out some slurred plea of, “Please fuck me harder. Please gimme more.”

“That’s my good girl.” Pierre praised up at you through his teeth, his hands tightening on your waist as he shoved up into you a little more, forcing a gasp from your chest. 

George took his hand from your hair to reach down to grab a handful of your ass and he pried at your flesh to open you up a little more without faltering his thrusts, permitting himself deeper as he gave you harder longer strokes that halted your air in your lungs for a moment. With his other hand, he smacked his palm down hard against your other cheek which triggered you to inhale sharply and your nails dug down into Pierre’s chest. 

“Yes!” you squealed, “Yes, yes - fuck!” 

With his feet anchored on the bed, Pierre kept his shallow thrusts up into you and shifted his hands so one was resting around your back and the other was pressing the heel of his palm into your lower stomach. The warm, tingling pressure it pushed through your insides literally had your eyes rolling and your toes curling and the lewd sounds that tumbled from your lips were completely involuntary. 

George suddenly grasped your arms and yanked them back, taking your hands from Pierre’s chest so he could straighten you up a little more and securely hold you in place. You never complained when they moved you however they wanted - well, most times - and this was no different since you had waited so long to be able to experience the both of them at the same time. You would gladly submit to either. 

With George’s tight grip on your biceps to secure your arms back, keeping you right up straight against his chest, and Pierre’s palm still pressing into your abdomen, you swore you were getting dizzy with it all. In fact, Pierre was witness to the glossiness of your expression and the withering expression that smeared across your face despite the sweetest sounds that you made for them. 

“Holy shit.” Pierre groaned through his firm focus to keep thrusting up into you. 

“You take it so fucking well.” George spoke lowly against your ear through his panted breaths, shooting shivers down your spine by the way his accent was thick with lust. His caramel skin pressed stickily to yours, entangled limbs of sweat and heat, his fingertips pressing indentations into your rouged flesh as his hips collided with your ass over and over again. It was a dreamy haze and you nearly felt out-of-body. 

Words had abandoned you in exchange for a mumbling, gasping, mess of whimpers and moans as the two men had their way with you. George shifted behind you slightly to get one foot flat on the bed for a better angle, letting your arms go so he could grab your hips again, and his thrusts were strong and deep and at such a pace that left you nearly drooling. With your arms free, you fell forward onto your hands again, pressing your palms flat onto the mattress on either side of Pierre’s head, arching your back a little more to keep the both of them hitting just the right spots. 

Pierre’s mouth wrapped around one of your nipples as you leaned over him and he toyed with it between tongue and teeth, moaning against your breast from beneath you. He grabbed your ass in two large handfuls to keep you spread for the both of them and you ended up slumping from hands to elbows on top of him. As the two of them worked to build that coiling pleasure within you, your pitchy moans were melting right into Pierre’s neck as you wrapped your arms around his head in desperate need to cling onto something. 

“That’s it, cherié.” Pierre cooed against your ear, smacking his hand down hard against your ass, “Give it up for us.”

You sunk your teeth down into his toned shoulder, smothering you uncontrollable noises as they both fucked you from either side, keeping you rightfully in the middle of them. George’s hands pressed into the small of your back to keep you ached just enough to keep them in all the right places and you were nearly sobbing into Pierre’s neck. 

“You gonna cum for us, gorgeous?” George taunted breathily. 

“Yes, sir.” you replied squeakily, knowing if you didn’t use your words they would make you waste more time by trying again. Instead, you force your nonsensical brain to try and piece together as many pleas as you could, mumbling your words into Pierre’s neck, “I’m gonna cum so fucking hard for you. Please, please, please don’t stop!”

“Is our good fucking girl gonna cum on both of us?” Pierre egged you on against your ear, his voice strained slightly as he kept the effort up to keep thrusting up into you. 

“Yeah, she is.” George continued, keeping a stone grip on your hips so he was nearly yanking you back into his thrusts, “Come on, baby. Come on.”

Arms wrapped entirely around Pierre’s head, you were a squealing mess against his neck with your teeth leaving indentations in his skin and a slick shimmer of your spit behind, rushing out a pitchy chant as you grew closer and closer exponentially, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-”

“Fils de pute, you’re getting so tight-” Pierre said through his teeth, not slowing down for a second, “Let it out for us. Come on.” 

As it reached that impossible precipice, your entire body tensed right up and you flew one hand out to slam flat against your headboard with a silent gape into Pierre’s neck. Your body shuddered violently between them, letting the intense waves of pleasure overtake you until your vision went spotted for a few seconds and the ringing in your ears had the world falling away. They had you quite literally vibrating with euphoria and as your senses came back, you gasped through your orgasm with a quivering moan that nearly echoed between your bedroom walls. 

“Good girl!” George praised loudly from behind you, still keeping his pace going despite the way your legs were quivering. 

“Putain.” Pierre groaned sharply and pulled his hands back from your ass to push at your hips. 

You barely had a second to get your senses back before George was following Pierre’s lead and pulling out so they could flip you right over onto your back against your bed. Panting and shuttering, the moans that fell from your lips were warm and full of bliss and as you blinked yourself back into reality, you watched them both come up on either side of you on their knees. Condoms off and their dicks in your face, you habitually opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, blindly grasping onto their thighs on either side of your head as they finished themselves off too. 

“Look at you.” Pierre groaned behind the slick sound of his hand pumping his cock, “So fucking ready for it.”

“Want our cum all over your fucking face?” George taunted, his motions mirroring Pierre’s on your other side. “Our gorgeous fucking cumslut.”

You nodded dumbly, scrunching your eyes shut in anticipation, clenching your trembling thighs together from the aftershocks of your intense orgasm only made worse by the sight of both of them directly above you like that. Mere moments later, Pierre was coming first by only a second or two, the first thick spurt landing right across your tongue as he moaned prettily through your bedroom. George matched his timing almost perfectly, sharing in the privilege of streaking your face in thick shots of white, a few reaching up to your messy hair and almost getting in your eye. 

There was so much of it from the both of them combined that you were almost covered in it but that fact just brought a grin to your face, keeping your eyes closed as you blindly wrapped your hands around their dicks and guided them into your mouth one at a time to lick clean. One of them had his hand in your hair, both of them moaning and panting handsomely, praising you honestly, touching you all they could as you tended to them generously. The other smeared his hand through the mess across your face and then shoved his fingers in your open mouth to make more of a mess of both cum and spit and then slapped his hand down hard against your cheek. 

“Holy fuck.” you giggled. 

“Stay there.” Pierre said before shifting slightly from his spot beside you. 

You couldn’t open your eyes given the amount of cum that was streaked across your face and over your closed eyes but you trusted them. The click of your camera shutter gave his idea away and you held your hands in front of your face with a bashful laugh. 

“Pierre.” you scolded lightheartedly. 

“What? You look incredible.” he protested. 

“Really, really sexy.” George agreed before adding, “Was this all that you wanted?”

“Yeah.” you smiled, licking your lips from the salty substance that they claimed you in. 

George's gentle hand then touched your face, a start comparison to the roughness from the rest of the evening, and he started to wipe your face with a tissue, “Here you go.”

“What a gentleman.” you giggled, although you took the tissue from him to do it yourself. 

Pierre set the camera and developing polaroid on your bedside table before slumping back against your headboard with a heavy sigh, draping his arm above his head as he watched you clean yourself up a little. You tossed the soiled tissue in the general direction of your trash can, too in need of a breather at that moment to care if it made it in on the first try. Pierre then reached back over to your bedside table and opened the drawer to pull out the box of cigarettes that was kept inside just for moments of drop-off ecstasy like this. He set one between his lips and then grabbed your lighter to light up before tossing the box and lighter towards George who was resting beside you with an expectant outstretched hand. 

As you were laid diagonally across your bed, you let Pierre pull your feet across his lap as he rested back against the pillows and headboard with his cigarette and he gave your calves a tender squeeze, sending you a little wink. George first set a cigarette between your lips for you and as you framed it between middle and forefinger, he lit it for you too. You tucked a hand behind your head as you took your first drag and let the nicotine relax your buzzing pleasure sensors, blowing out the first puff towards the ceiling. 

Silence lingered for a moment as the three of you came down from the euphoria of the night, each sharing in the guilty pleasures of a cigarette after sex and the lingering sensation of satisfaction that it brought. Pierre’s hand caressed your shin absentmindedly and George was resting back on his arm beside you, lost in your profile through the haze of smoke that surrounded you. 

“Well,” you broke the silence first, pursing your lips to blow another stream of smoke towards the ceiling with the cigarette balanced between your fingers, “that was the most incredible thing that I’ve ever done.”

Pierre chuckled warmly from the opposite side of the bed, “That was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”

George just let a faint smirk prick at his lips as he took another drag of his cigarette. With the dart between his slender fingers, he leaned down towards you to kiss your cheek and then your temple and then you turned your face to welcome a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked. 

“Mhm.” you pushed yourself up into a sitting position with your cigarette balanced between your lips and you reached a hand down to slide your fingers between your legs, smearing through the slick wetness that you were covered in right down to your thighs and over your aching muscles. 

“Sore?” Pierre asked. 

“Yeah.” you smiled over at him and plucked your cigarette from between your lips as you rested back on your other hand. “In a good way though.” 

His eyes flicked across your naked body as he pulled another drag from his cigarette before warning you lightly, “If you don’t close your legs I might end up going down on you right now.”

You shut your legs with a soft giggle, knowing you were way too sensitive to even risk another faint touch from either of them. George’s lips met your neck again, kissing down over your shoulder, and as the shivers he left tore down your spine, you curled away from him with a giggle and flopped into Pierre’s side instead. 

“So fucking sensitive, aren’t you?” George chuckled. 

“You two did a number on me.” you protested matter-of-factly as Pierre’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and he pulled you into him with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

George leaned over you two with one last puff of his cigarette before he was stamping it out on the saucer on your bedside table and left it there so he could have both hands free to tend to your feet in tender rubs. You smiled at him through your own cigarette, lifting your right foot up to help him get a better grip and he pressed his thumbs into the sole of your foot before pushing them up and outwards firmly. Your soft hum of appreciation was taken by Pierre’s lips on your cheek and he peppered a few chasté kisses across your rouged face as you stayed tucked up under his arm. The three of you were all still completely naked but after the escapades of the night, it was nothing you hadn’t all seen before and your attention was more focused on smoking and relaxing than anything else of salacious sustenance. 

Pierre put out his cigarette on the small saucer beside your bed too before he was looking back over to you and gently turning your head by a finger against your chin so he could kiss you properly. You only shared a few single kisses like that - far too tired out for anything more - and he left one more to your temple as you broke away and settled into his side again with a content sigh. George’s eyes were all on you as he kept massaging your feet generously and soon slid his warm palms up your shins and back down along your calves. 

“You’re an angel.” you spoke to him sweetly. 

“Anything for my best pal.” he winked. 

“Best pal that you just fucked up the ass.” you teased, “You do that with Mansell too?”

George scoffed in disgust at the mention of his much older Williams teammate with a, “Very funny.”

You giggled and gave him a gentle nudge with your foot against his chest. Then, you were passing over your burnt out cigarette to Pierre and he took the hint to stamp it out for you too. You thanked him with a fleeting kiss to his cheek before you were shifting out of his arms and getting up to climb off the bed with an announcement that you were going to the bathroom to clean up, stepping over the multiple discarded and well used condoms that littered the floor.

After a quick pee and sufficient time spent with one foot up on the counter and a damp cloth between your legs, you declared yourself tidied up and you emerged from your small bathroom and took the few short steps back into your bedroom. The two young men were back in their underwear and the condoms that had once scattered the floor along with their wrappers were nowhere to be seen. Your clothes were gathered and folded on your dresser in three neat piles and as Pierre arranged your bedside table and the polaroid pictures, George was distracted at your desk rifling through your few magazines. 

You smiled fondly at the scene and returned to your bed on which your once messy sheets were pulled somewhat neater, “Wow, you two are the full package - incredible lovers and you clean my room for me. Wanna move in?” 

“What, like some weird polyamorous throuple?” Pierre snorted before tossing the polaroids in your direction as he changed the subject, “Check these out.”

You gathered the four small pictures from the bed and glanced over each of them and how they had captured your night in the filthiest of ways, to be permanently saved as a physical memory. As you did, Pierre excused himself to get you some water and take his turn in the bathroom. 

From across your modest room, George spoke up with a magazine in hand and a proud smile, “You have my front cover issue.”

“Of course I do.” you boasted with a grin. 

He looked back down at the Motor Racing magazine that housed an on-track shot of his Williams race car in vibrant blue, yellow, and white, donning the crisp number 63 on the front in bold type. The subheading on the cover read George Russell; Williams Rookie Wins in Austria. 

Pulling him from his moment of reflection, you looked back down at the polaroids, “These are really fucking hot, Georgie. Come see.”

He set the magazine back down on your desk and strode over to your bed to join you, perching himself on the edge and he leaned in towards the middle to see the collection of tiny photographs spread out in front of you. Licking his lips at the sight that each frame held, he pressed his finger to one of them, “That’s my favourite.”

“Because I’m looking back at you like I’m straight out of fucking Playboy.” you snorted.

“Yeah? So what? I like it when you look at me like that.” he boasted with a shrug. 

When you glanced at him, he was already looking at you, only a few short inches away from your face and under his stare you licked away your bashful smile and looked back down to the pictures. But then, you were reaching out a hand to set on George’s arm, looking at him again in realization of what you had forgotten to ask when you first met up that night, “How was Silverstone?”

“It was fine.” George shifted in place to tuck his legs up on the mattress so he could sit more comfortably on your bed beside you, resting a hand behind you so he was still turned to face your direction slightly, “Had high hopes starting on pole today but had a shit start and I ended up retiring with a broken exhaust. Nigel was out too: clutch failure. Prost won.”

“I’m sorry.”

George shrugged, “Ah well. There’s always the next race.”

“You’ll get it. No doubt in my mind.”

You shared small smiles and then he leaned in to kiss your lips once. 

“Listen,” he cleared his throat a moment, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You nodded him on, suddenly feeling a little silly being completely naked in front of him when his tone shifted into something serious sounding. 

George set his free hand on your thigh, gently caressing your warm skin with his calloused thumb as he stared right into your eyes as he spoke his peace in a quiet voice, “I know that everything is hectic with my schedule and how I’m always traveling for races but I wanted to clear the air with you before I leave for Germany next week. I was wondering if we could kinda make this exclusive from now on?”

“This?” you questioned dumbly. “Yeah, you and me.” he went on, “You think I have all these girls but I really don’t. I don’t really have time for all that between traveling and training and races and whatnot. Honestly, you’re the only girl I’ve been seeing for a little while now and I don’t want that to stop but…I wanted to see if you were on the same page. I feel like after tonight, now is the right time to bring this up.”

Your mouth moulded into a small ‘o’ as you tried to process what he was saying and think of what you wanted to reply with. What he was pitching was big news and felt heavy on your mind. You were so incredibly into him but was going exclusive what you wanted? 

As if sensing your surprise and your hesitation, George gave your knee a reassuring squeeze, “You don’t have to answer right now. Just think about it and let me know, okay?”

You pulled a small smile and nodded. When he leaned in briefly, you accepted his quick kiss, just as Pierre returned, re-dressed, with a full glass of water for you. 

“There you are.” he said gently, passing the glass into your hand.

“Thank you.” you replied in a whisper, offering him a brief smile before taking a sip of water to moisten your suddenly incredibly dry mouth. 

George gave your thigh another squeeze before he was getting up, excusing himself to the bathroom too. You watched him leave and then let out a breath, worried to make one wrong move and blow up the two entirely fragile relationships you had going on with the both of them. Maybe bringing them into awareness of each other wasn’t the best idea…that realization was starting to settle over your conscience. 

“Did you want to get dressed?” Pierre asked you, “You might start getting cold.”

“Yeah, good idea.” you stacked the polaroids up and leaned over to set them and your glass of water on your bedside table but he was already a step ahead of you and brought over your underwear and a shirt for you to put on. You thanked him softly and shifted onto your knees on the bed to quickly dress. 

Standing beside you, watching, Pierre took that opportunity of momentary privacy to say his peace too, “So I’ve been thinking…”

Pausing with your head half in your shirt, you felt yourself tense, “Uh huh?”

“What do you think about doing this…you and me thing…exclusively?” 

Oh for fucks sake.

You tugged your shirt on all the way and then flopped onto your bum and rested back against the pillows and headboard with a sigh and a furrowed brow.

“Before you say no,” Pierre sat on the side of the bed, fiddling with his hands, “I know I’m no internationally known Formula 1 driver but I think what you and I have is really special. It can’t be something we just…ignore.”

It wasn’t often that Pierre got nervous - he was always so cool and collected and had a smooth wit about him that gave the impression that he knew he was above everyone else without being conceded. Maybe it was a little cute. But you just shook your head in amusement and then set your palms over your face. 

“I dunno.” you mumbled into your hands. “Do you need an answer now?”

“No. No, of course not.” he promised, “You have my number. You can let me know whenever. I’m not going anywhere.”

You dropped your hands to your lap with a sigh, “Okay.” 

He reached over and set his hand on your two and leaned in for a few quick kisses to your lips and one more to your nose before sitting back again, “Okay.”

“I’m just really tired.” you mumbled, “I don’t trust my brain to make any logical decisions right now.”

“That’s okay.” Pierre gave your hand a squeeze. 

“That’s partially your fault anyway.” you whispered.

His smile only widened and he scoffed playfully, “Well, I hope so. My job is not done until you’re nearly bedridden.”

“Okay.” you laughed lightly, “Cocky.”

Pierre just leaned in and pressed his smiling lips to yours, sharing a few quick kisses with you that made your stomach flip-flop. You raised a hand up to slide around the back of his neck and he dipped his face into your neck to kiss up under your ear, making you shiver and raise your shoulder up with a giggle. He nipped at your earlobe and then sat back again to look at you properly, taking a second to brush your frazzled hair out of your face as he stared at you for a moment. 

Just then, George was returning to your room in his plaid slacks back on and his fingers working on the buttons of his white collared shirt, announcing a casual, “I should go.” 

You knew he should too but part of you sank at his simple statement, possibly not wanting to admit that the night was over. You simply mumbled, “Yeah. It’s late.”

Pierre stood up from the side of your bed just so they could switch places. George leaned down to give you a quick kiss, “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

You nodded. 

He kissed your cheek before whispering against the shell of your ear, “Tonight was fucking incredible. You were fucking incredible.” 

You pushed your hand against his chest with a tisk, “Get the fuck outta here.”

George took a step back again, finishing buttoning his shirt. From your spot on your bed, you watched as he and Pierre shared casual pleasantries along the lines of ‘nice to meet you’ and ‘have a good rest of your night’ over another handshake. Then, George was gone and you listened for the sound of your apartment door closing and you distracted the slight emptiness within you with your eyes following Pierre around your room. 

But as you sat there for a few seconds, ignorant to whatever Pierre had just said to you casually, that heaviness inside you only grew larger until you were blinking back tears. Swearing under your breath, you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes and tried to calm yourself down and pull yourself out of this silly momentary depression. Pierre’s warm hand on your wrist guided your hands away from your face and you were met with his worried expression, concern filling his sweet blue eyes.

“Hey,” he cooed, “what’s wrong?”

“Can you go get him?” you asked shakily, letting your request tumble from your lips without realization from your brain that it was something that was on your mind, “Don’t let him leave yet.”

Pierre didn’t even reply before he was hurrying out of your room and across your modest apartment and you heard the sound of the front door open but not close. Embarrassed, you hid your face in your hands again with your knees curled up to your face in the centre of your bed, only privy to the faint muffled voices from the general direction of the hallway. Then, you heard the front door shut and two pairs of feet were hurrying across your floorboards and then the mattress dipped on either side of you as you were framed by the two young men.

“We’re here.” George said softly, rubbing his hand over your back, “What’s going on?”

You sniffled into your hands, “I dunno, I just got really sad, I’m sorry.”

Pierre petted your hair and he promised you, “You don’t have to say sorry.”

“That’s my fault.” George said to you, “I shouldn’t have just rushed out of here until I knew you were okay. Not after such a crazy night.”

You nodded with a tremble to your bottom lip and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder to guide you in so he could kiss your temple. You kept your hands over your face even as he held you under his arm for a moment and Pierre shuffled closer on your other side to keep you equally comforted and warm. 

“Can you both stay tonight?” you asked ever so softly, almost unintelligible. 

“Yeah.” Pierre agreed easily, “Of course.”

“Sure, we can.” George answered at the same time. 

“We don’t do this.” you sniffled as you stated the obvious fact that came with your no-strings-attached relationships with the both of them. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Pierre kissed your head. 

“We’re not going to just leave you like this simply because spending the night is something we don’t often do.” George said with his hand rubbing over your arm as you shivered in only your thin t-shirt. 

“Let’s warm you up.” Pierre shifted away from you and started to pull back the sheets of your bed. 

George got up too to help you get under the blankets and tuck them up around you as you rested back against the headboard and then he was unbuttoning his shirt again and dropping it to the floor. Pierre dropped his jeans too and then joined you under the covers, right away swallowing you up in his arms as you shivered slightly and blinked away your tears. When George joined you in bed too, he brought with him your water glass that had been left on your bedside table earlier and he carefully held it for you to help you sip a little more. 

“Good girl.” Pierre whispered as you drank your water. “Finish that up for us.”

You took the glass from George to finish it yourself and when it was empty, he set it back on your bedside table for you. Despite the lack of words you had to fill the silent air time, your mind was whirling a mile a minute and especially surrounding the conversations that both men had with you back to back about what they wanted your situation to look like moving forward. If nothing else, this drop you were experiencing and the necessary care they knew to give you only made things feel much more complicated. 

But then you were sinking under the blankets until Pierre could tuck them right up to your chin and you turned to curl yourself into George’s side, wrapping your arm around his middle and resting your head on his chest. He slid his arm around you too so you were snuggled close and he kissed your forehead, making sure you were comfortable there and sufficiently wrapped up in limbs and blankets. Pierre scooted right up beside you and brushed your hair from your face gently, lulling you to sleep quickly in the safety that the both of them brought to you. 

The haze of the morning settled over your consciousness as you blinked yourself awake in the comforting familiarity of your bedroom. Your aching body had you wincing slightly as you roused and you shifted to stretch out the soreness in your muscles despite the arm that laid heavily around your middle. You glanced over to see Pierre still fast asleep beside you, breathing calmly, long lashes resting on pink cheeks, and his permed brunette hair in a wild mess atop his head. 

You sniffled casually as your stuffy nose was a reminder of your few tears shed the night before and the stinging of your eyes was of any indication of a hangover and the remanence of your momentary wallows in the middle of the night. Pressing the heel of your palm to one of your eyes, you winced through the discomfort that the morning brought and tried to piece together any recollection of what exactly had happened. The smell of bacon and eggs wafting from the kitchen certainly helped as it solved the mystery as to where your third member had disappeared to and that and the promise of painkillers helped to lure you out of bed.

Moving slowly so as to not wake Pierre, you made sure he was tucked back under the sheets before you slid into your slippers and pulled George’s oversized plaid jacket on to keep yourself warm within the air conditioned apartment and your limited clothing. Sure enough, George was in the kitchen cheffing away at the stove in only his boxers with your boom box radio playing quietly from the corner of the counter. He was whistling along to the pop songs as he tended to the sizzling bacon in the pan. 

The creak of the floor boards under your feet had him glancing over with that handsome smile and with the spatula in hand, he came over to greet you with a kiss to your cheek and a friendly, “Morning.”

“Good morning.” you replied quietly as you leaned against the counter and watched him return to the stove. 

“Feeling better?” he asked. 

“Yeah, emotionally.” you answered, “Thanks for staying. I know it was kinda weird…especially with three of us sharing the bed.”

“Nah, no need to apologize.” George assured you with a quick glance, “I’d never give up a night with you, no matter how many times I was pushed off the bed last night.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, “Did I kick you off?”

George laughed, “Only once or twice. There wasn’t much room…but that’s okay. As long as you slept well and are feeling more yourself this morning.”

“Just a hangover…and I’m a little sore.” you confessed and slid over to him at the stove, wrapping your arm around his bicep to whisper against his shoulder, “My ass hurts like a bitch.”

He licked away the smirk that played at his lips and he glanced over at you, “That’s too bad.”

You gave his arm a squeeze, “No hangover for you?”

“A small one…just powering through to make you a hearty breakfast.” he said as he looked back at the pan, carefully nudging the bacon around in the crackling grease. Then, he gestured towards the coffee pot, “Coffee is fresh too, if you want some. Helps take the edge off.”

“Thanks.” you sighed in relief and poured yourself a half cup in your favourite mug. 

“I gotta say, you’re quite the looker in that suit.” George complimented. 

You did a little spin in his plaid jacket, the lengthy tails whooshing out from your legs slightly, “Why thank you.”

“I was just wondering if it looks as ridiculous on me as it does on you.” 

“Oh, no.” you answered smoothly, “It looks far better on me.”

George sent you a pointed glare, “Ha, ha.”

You just hid your smile behind a sip of hot coffee and rested back against the counter nearby, giving him his space but still lingering close to get that fix of affection and attention you craved. It was so domestic and lovely and the back of your mind played your brief conversation from the night before on repeat, knowing that George was leaning more towards the concept of having you to himself. It didn’t necessarily mean to be his girlfriend but it was certainly a step towards that direction and you hadn’t given that concept any prior thought. 

But Pierre was in the same boat and you couldn’t imagine yourself just cutting him out that easily either. He was also incredibly special to you and you had a connection with him that was just as strong and passionate as the one you had with George. Oh, you were too hungover for this crossroads. You took another lengthy sip of your coffee. 

The creak of the floorboards had you looking over to Pierre emerging from your bedroom looking like he had seen better days. His hair looked like he had been struck by lightning and the alcohol-induced bags under his eyes were only made worse from the lack of sleep and when he rubbed at them, it just made his eyes red. But the sight of him still made you grin and you greeted him with a sweet good morning just like you had with George moments before. 

“Morning.” Pierre replied gruffly, slumping forward over the other side of the island from you, “I have a wicked hangover this morning.”

You offered out your mug, “Coffee?”

“Thanks.” he mumbled and took the mug from you for a small sip.

You left him with that mug to go pour yourself a new one from the coffee pot on the counter before returning to the peninsula counter. 

Pierre reached across the counter to tug at the sleeve of the plaid jacket you wore, earning your attention again, “How are you feeling this morning, cherié?” 

You smiled over at him, “Better. Thank you for staying.”

“Of course.” 

George began to plate the breakfast and, as he did, he spoke to the both of you, “So I brought in the paper this morning and there was a cover story that you might want to take a look at.”

You and Pierre exchanged slightly confused expressions but George gestured over to the table where the morning paper was waiting and the two of you walked over to lean over top of it and read the headlines. The one that caught your eye first only did so because of the large paparazzi photograph of George entering the club in his freshly ironed plaid suit and large framed sunglasses,

Formula 1: Russell bandages Silverstone DNF with menage et toi

“Holy shit.” you gaped, setting your mug down on the table a little too hard in exchange for the paper in your hands to get a closer look. 

Pierre, with furrowed brows, leaned over your shoulder to keep reading too, slowly vocalizing only the key few lines from the article printed in the fresh ink letters from that morning’s paper, “An anonymous source reported that Russell and his two companions were seen entering a taxi together where lewd touching and saucy whispers were shared in the backseat.”

George set the breakfast plates down on the table for the three of you as if unbothered by the public humiliation that came with the British tabloids slandering his image on the front page of the paper. He wiped his hands on the tea towel that was draped over his shoulder, watching the both of you for any sort of reaction as the three of you sat around the table. Pierre just kept re-reading and you finally looked up at him with an expression of absolute bafflement. 

“It’s gotta be the taxi driver.” Pierre scoffed, “Who else would have known what was going on in the backseat? Fucking pervert.” 

“This is bad, Georgie.” you insisted. 

“Nah,” he exhaled, “it’s just another dig that the tabloids publish about me. I’m just used to it now. Half of the things they write are complete ludacris anyway so what’s one more crazy story…if anything it keeps my name current.”

“It’s not fair on you.” you pressed.

“No, but what can you do? They’re going to say whatever they want. I’ve learned you just gotta deal with it and let it roll off your back. I’m more worried about what you two think.”

“I mean…it’s really weird knowing that this is about me. But they don’t have my picture or name so I don’t care, really.” Pierre shrugged, “Otherwise I’d be worried about my boss seeing.”

They both looked at you for your response next. 

You took a second to comprehend it all - the first time you were mentioned on the front page of the newspaper. Of course, it wasn’t by name or with a picture but you knew it was about you and it was a strange feeling; some sort of mix of embarrassment and pride. Hiding your face behind the newspaper, you attempted to hide your giggle but of course the guys saw right through you. 

Pierre snatched it out of your hand, “What are you laughing at, huh?”

“I’m mentioned on the front page of the newspaper like a real little motorsport groupie.” you beamed cheekily, wrapping yourself up in the excess fabric of George’s jacket you still wore. 

“For the last time: you’re not a groupie.” George tisked. 

“Well,” Pierre argued lightly in response, “what else would you call a slut who giggles excitedly at public attention like this?”

You grabbed the newspaper right out of Pierre’s hand just to smack him over the head with it in retaliation. George just chuckled into his bite of bacon.

The three of you eating breakfast together felt weirdly normal, as if you all had been friends for ages and that you weren’t in some weird friends-with-benefits situation with the both of them. As you ate and conversation flowed, you couldn’t help but see further intentions behind each of their actions or their words, trying to ignore their ulterior motives stemming from their individual pitches to you from the night before. You brushed the thoughts aside and tried to convince yourself that maybe they were just drunk and they didn’t even recall asking you to be exclusive. Maybe if you never spoke of it again it would just go away and life would continue on as is. You liked it as is.

When breakfast was done and the three of you shared the responsibility of cleaning up the kitchen, the natural progression of the late morning meant they would have to start to head out; George’s parents would be wondering where he was - he reminded you with an eye roll - and Pierre said he had an appointment at the bank to make. So they got dressed and you reluctantly gave George back his jacket and you stood with them in the foyer as they got their shoes back on and were ready for goodbyes. 

In only slip-on loafers, George was ready to go first and he stepped over to you to set a hand on your waist and he leaned in to kiss your cheek and then your lips before whispering just quiet enough for only you to hear, “Think about what I said, okay?”

The reminder of your conversation from the night before had your heart in your throat and you nodded dumbly in reply, earning another quick kiss. Then he was switching spots with Pierre who wrapped you up tightly in his arms for a squeezy hug that forced a breathy laugh out of you. 

“I will call you later.” he promised against your ear, “We should talk about what I mentioned last night.”

You clutched onto the back of his jacket for a second longer with your eyes scrunched shut as if in disbelieving frustration. But then he was pulling out of your embrace so he could slide his hand around the side of your neck so he could guide you in to give you a few quick kisses. 

Swaying the subject, you directed to the both of them as you followed them to the door, “Thank you for an amazing night.”

“Thank you for being such a gracious host.” George said lightheartedly in reply, stepping out into the hallway of your building. 

“Oh, any time.” you gushed with a casual lean against your door frame. 

Pierre laughed with a shake of his head and looked at George beside him, “We really just have great taste in women, don’t we?”

And, as if having known each other for years, George gave Pierre’s shoulder a friendly pat as they headed in the direction of the elevator together, “Indisputably.”

Some more pics that fit the vibes but didn't make the title images:

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[sam24]

Man on a Mission

Summary: Apparently, someone called Bucky's girl a whore. He has now made it his life's mission to find out who.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky sat at the kitchen island, eyes narrowed, leg bouncing, and the same scene from last night replaying in his head.

Bucky drew random patterns on your bare shoulder, his nose buried into your hair. You were being quieter than usual, but he knew you were awake as he could feel your hands fidgeting.

He didn’t want to press you to tell him about it, so he settled on making you feel as loved as possible, pressing kisses into your hair.

Suddenly, you broke the silence, taking Bucky by surprise.

“Buck . . . do you think I’m a whore?”

“Wha-” Bucky lifted his head immediately, trying to look at you. But you hid your face in your hands, turning away from him.

“God don’t look at me. Fuck, this is so embarrassing,” You groaned into your hands. “Forget I said that.”

“No, honey, look at me please,” Bucky gently pulled your hands down, cradling your face. “Who called you that?”

“No, no, no one,” You shook your head frantically. “I’m sorry, just forget I said anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, sweetheart, who- okay we’ll get back to that later. But you are not a whore, okay? No woman deserves to be called that in the first place. Who-”

“No, no one. I was just . . . I just randomly thought of it.”

Bucky wasn’t convinced, but he let it slide.

For now.

“Well, I don’t want you thinking these things about yourself.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Okay?”

You nodded, seeming relieved and a little surprised that he dropped it that easily.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was now the next morning, and you were at the gym with Natasha, which gave Bucky the perfect opportunity to figure out who to murder.

Steve walked into the kitchen with Sam trailing behind.

“Morning Buck.” Steve greeted. His head stuck into the fridge, trying to look past the shit ton amount of edible cookie dough you had made a couple days earlier.

“How come you didn’t come run with us, you lazy fat ass.” Sam teased, leaning on the island.

“Didn’t feel like it.” Bucky narrowed his eyes.

Suspect 1: Sam Wilson, The Most Annoying Bird Alive

Sam had a tendency to poke fun at people, but some might not take it as well as others. For example, when a barista burst out in tears last week when Sam joked about her being “all over the place” with all the orders coming in. (He came in with flowers the next day)

Bucky wondered if Sam had said something that was supposed to be funny, but you didn’t think it was and got upset.

A part of Bucky wanted to settle on Sam so he had an excuse to beat him up, but the more rational side of him realized that you had gone on one too many missions with him to think he was being serious about anything he said.

Tony then came in, holding a bunch of empty coffee mugs in his hand, practically throwing them into the sink.

“Bruce said my mugs were ‘taking up too much room’ in the lab,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Well why doesn’t he try being the goddamn genius backbone of this team.”

Bucky stared at him intently.

Suspect 2: Tony Stark, The Dick Who Can’t Set His Metal Rock Music Lower Than 98

Tony had a tendency to snap easily, especially when he was low on sleep (which was basically all the time). Everyone usually steered clear of Tony when he was moody, because he would most definitely say the meanest things, but not really mean any of it.

Bucky tried to think if it was logical that Tony would snap at you and say something. However, he came to the conclusion that even if Tony had said something, you had known him for too long to take his sleep-deprived words to heart.

“What are you looking at, Winter Schnitzel?” Tony challenged, noticing Bucky staring at him.

“Nothing.” Bucky replied, his stare shifting over to his best friend, who was grinning in amusement, but still trying to find something to eat that wouldn’t give him diabetes.

Suspect 3: Steve Rog-

Bucky stopped himself, almost laughing at himself for thinking Steve would ever call a woman a whore.

Even though you always kept the fridge full of random items you would make, Steve would never say a single bad thing about you.

For now, Bucky was stuck.

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

6 hours later, and Bucky was still stuck.

You and Peter were out (God knows where), which was another perfect chance for Bucky to think.

But the problem was he couldn’t think of anyone.

Everyone in the compound adored you, so Bucky couldn’t figure out who the hell would deliberately say something to make you upset.

He dragged his shoes across the floor, cursing Steve in his head for making him go on a “stroll” because he apparently looked “pent-up”.

There was no way in hell Bucky would walk around outside, so he opted to take a walk inside, using Mother Steve’s demand to his advantage to scout out potential targets.

He halfheartedly glanced around the floor, stopping when his gaze landed on you.

He immediately grinned, not caring about the fact he probably looked crazy, and started his way over to where you were.

You were talking to someone with a bag in your hand. Bucky remembered you saying something about picking up a dress from the store for your friend. Peter was next to you, and for some reason, puffing his chest out?

But, as Bucky got closer, he realized you were talking to Jacob, the little dickwad who couldn’t take no for an answer,

“How many times do I have to tell you? Get out of my way. I’m trying to get this to someone.” Bucky heard you snap, tuning in with his enhanced hearing.

Bucky stopped, trying to assess the situation and figure out if you would appreciate him stepping in or not.

He knew you didn’t need anyone to stand up for you, but his overprotective side rippled through his body, his jaw clenching and fists balling.

“Baby, stop acting- “Jacob was cut off with a sharp slap.

The little bastard was taken by complete shock.

Meanwhile, Peter was still trying to look as intimidating as possible.

“Jacob, what the hell is your problem? I’ve told you to leave me alone more times than I can count. How fucking thick is your skull?”

Jacob was about to reply, with probably something bitchy, but he caught sight of Bucky in the corner with the most murderous glare and stopped himself.

He instead looked down and stepped to the side, giving you and Peter room to go.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Beat it.” Peter growled in the most non-threatening way possible as you two left, giving Bucky the perfect chance to slide in before Jacob could hightail out of there.

“Barnes.” Jacob greeted, clearing his throat.

“Callaway.” Bucky’s blood boiled at how differently he treated other men than how he treated women. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect a lady?”

Before Jacob could reply, his equally dumb friend, Brody, walked past the two men.

“Damn, Jake. Barnes finally here to beat you up for calling his girl a whore?”

Bucky and Jacob both stared at Brody.

Jacob looked sickly pale, and Bucky looked calmly terrifying. Clear sign he was fucking enraged.

“Oh shit-” Brody finally put the pieces together, practically sprinting away.

Bucky turned back to face a petrified looking Jacob.

“So,” Bucky reached out, fixing Jacob’s tie and smoothing down his collar. “It was you, huh?”

Jacob tensed under Bucky’s touch.

“Chill pal, I just wanna talk.”

⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃⭃

A bruised cheek, wet underwear, and hurt ego later, Jacob’s talk with Bucky was over.

Bucky threw his feet up on the ottoman, but not before telling Friday to make sure Jacob was apologizing to you, as instructed by Bucky himself.

He patiently waited for you on the couch, a wide grin appearing on his face as you walked in and cuddled up next to Bucky, but not without pressing a kiss to his lips first.

Halfway through the movie, you turned to look at Bucky.

“Thank you,” You smiled.

“For what, doll?”

You turned back to face the movie, a smile playing at your lips. “C’mon. I know that was you. He would never apologize on his own will.”

Bucky laughed, turning you around once again to pepper kisses all over your face.

“I love you, my little smartass.”

“I love you too, pops.”

Mission accomplished.

[imwetforyourmom]

Can you write a fluff about Matt x reader, and he invites her to film a video for his personal channel introducing the reader as his girlfriend to the fans and answering some questions about their relationship.

meet her

warnings: fluff, swearing, kissing, just very slightly suggestive

a/n: y’all, be honest, does the cover photo match? green and brown? idk 😕

a/n 2: yall I dont have instagram and dont have any idea how the qhole questions thing works, so bare w me

~

“my girlfriend”

“hi everyone, welcome back.” matt says, looking at the camera, his lips parted as he thinks of what to say next and how he’d like the video to go. “as you know, i made a post the other week about having a girlfriend but didnt say who she was.” he spoke, taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves before continuing.

“i’d, uh, like to introduce you all to my-“ matt took in a sharp inhale, glancing over at his girlfriend, whom was silently encouraging him. “my girlfriend.” he finishes, grabbing his girlfriends hand and bringing her into frame.

“hi!! my name is y/n.” she says, waving at the camera, her voice enthusiastic with a grin on her face. y/n has been waiting to finally announce her and matt’s relationship. she’s been waiting patiently for matt to be ready, as much as she wanted to, she’d never do such a thing without his consent.

matt fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous smile on his face. he was ready to introduce the love of his life to the internet, he was always ready. he just wanted to make sure y/n and him would last long enough for it to be okay to tell everyone. he didnt want to show everyone his girlfriend just for them to break up a week later.

and he knew y/n would never leave him. he was sure of it, she’d proved it so many times before.

another thing he was nervous about, he didnt want anyone going and bashing his girlfriend, sending death threats or doxxing her. she meant so much to him and he didnt want to risk their love, the love he’d been desiring for years.

“we’ll be answering some of your questions.” he spoke up, clearing his throat and letting go of y/ns hand. he grabbed his phone from his pocket and went to his instagram, reading the answers of the ‘questions?’ thing he put up the other day.

y/n stared down at his phone, chewing on her cheeks in order to hide the growing grin on her face. she was just so excited.

“alright,” matt said, looking up from his phone and at the camera. “first question is,” he mumbled, his eyes scanning the letters. “how long have you been together for?”

“y/n and I have been together, for about, six or seven months now, I’d say?” he said, looking over to y/n for re-assurance.

“yep! best seven months of my life.” she replied in return, balancing onto one of her legs as she stood. her legs getting slightly tired. (she was still recovering from last night)

matt noticed this and pushed his chair out some so y/n could sit on his lap easily. he grabbed his phone and looked for anothe reasonable question. as he did so, he pat his lap, inviting y/n.

y/n took the offer and gently sat on him, leaning her back into his chest and her head on his shoulder. basking in the moment, sitting with her boyfriend and answering questions about their relationship. it was so nice and comforting.

“okay, another one says, ‘have you guys dropped the L bombs yet?’” he giggled, resting his chin on y/ns shoulder.

y/n giggled along with him, a big grin on her face. “yes, we have.” she answered, their giggles dying down as they read matts phone together.

“can I read a question?” y/n asked, leaning her head to the side some, resting her forehead onto matts neck to get a better look at his phone.

“sure” matt passed his phone over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and folding his hands together on y/ns thighs.

“are you dating to marry or dating to play?” y/n spoke, her eyes widening as she realized.

matt looked over at her in surprise, a light scoff leaving his lips. “what? i’m dating to marry. why the fuck would I date to play?” he looked over at the camera, raising his eyebrows.

“I probably should proofread these questions first” y/n chuckled, her hand coming down to rest ontop of matts. gently rubbing his hand with her thumb, comforting and assuring him.

“dating to marry” y/n answered shortly, her voice trailing off as she was already scanning another question.

“alrighty, this question is good, good as in like, acceptable.” she mumbled, perking her head back up and looking at matt through the camera.

“has your girlfriend moved in?” she read, a small grin growing on her face.

“not yet, but im planning on moving in, in about a..?” she looked over to matt for an answer.

“a month or two. she needs to pack her apartment up and etc” he replied, a chuckle slipping past his lips.

“alright you guys, thats all for today. thanks for watching!” matt finished off the video, letting y/n wave bye before he grabbed the camera and screamed in the lens, hearing y/n fall into a fit of giggles.

895 words

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @dollyspsychoxo @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @e1ias3 @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.

You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.

So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.

And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.

You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.

Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.

Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.

I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.

But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.

Date:

July 28th

Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.

He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.

The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.

He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.

He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.

Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.

It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.

Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.

It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.

He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.

Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.

He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.

How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?

Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.

He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.

Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.

So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.

Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.

He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.

His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.

Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.

He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.

You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.

He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.

Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.

It’s okay.

‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’

‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’

He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.

The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.

He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.

As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.

“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.

“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.

He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.

“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.

“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.

You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.

“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.

“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”

“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.

“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.

“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.

“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.

“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”

“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.

“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”

“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.

You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.

‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’

But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.

He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.

Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.

But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.

What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.

What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?

Diary Entry: July 28th

It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.

Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?

Research pays off. Always.

And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.

But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.

Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.

You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.

You even laughed for me.

It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.

In the flesh.

It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.

I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.

But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?

No baby. It’s how you said my name.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.

The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.

I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.

I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.

I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.

I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?

Diary Entry: July 29th

I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.

Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.

My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.

Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.

But god it’s so fun to imagine it.

You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.

I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.

Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.

God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?

It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.

Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.

(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)

Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.

Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.

Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.

But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.

I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.

Probably the latter.

Diary Entry: August 2nd

Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.

You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.

I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.

Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.

I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.

Bark.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.

I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.

But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.

I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.

I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.

Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.

Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.

This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.

Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.

The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.

The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.

Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.

Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.

Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.

He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.

The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.

He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.

A flirty little finger waggle and smile.

He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.

“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.

“You too!”

If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.

Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.

Diary Entry: July 8th

Grocery day baby, here I come.

I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.

It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.

I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.

It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.

I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.

I love you.

You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.

You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.

You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.

“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.

“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.

“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.

“You really don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”

“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.

Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.

“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.

“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”

‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.

What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.

You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.

True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.

“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.

“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.

“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.

He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.

“Oh, you-“

“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”

You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.

“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”

“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.

“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”

“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.

You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”

“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”

After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.

You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.

PART FIVE

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[sarahisslytherin]

𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐌 || 𝐁.𝐁.

summary: you’ve been receiving love letters from a secret admirer and you’re desperate to reveal his identity. contains: benedict being fucking adorable, fluff n’ angst! a/n: first part of this multi-chapter fic.

It was a day like any other. You woke to the humming of the maid, the hum-drum of life about the house. You rubbed sleep from your eyes as you reluctantly got out of bed. You selected your gown for the day after scouring through your wardrobe of various shades of pastel. You bid good morning to the servants as you made your way downstairs and joined your family for breakfast. There your mother urgently reminded you (as if you had forgotten from one day to the next) the importance that you find yourself a suitor, someone of good rank.

But you barely had any mind to pay her; for it was elsewhere, with another. You cut your breakfast short, unable to bear any more talk of suitors and marriage and a life without love. You were buttoning your coat when an angel descended the staircase. Well, it wasn’t truly an angel; only your lady’s maid, but the letter she held in her hand couldn’t have been any more sacred to you. She passed it to you and your eyes met hers, the looks you exchanged almost like those of two best friends trading gossip, or in this case, your own little secret.

You slipped the sealed envelope into your coat pocket before finally stepping out the door and down the front steps. Outside, London was alive and full of the colors of spring. Though you could’ve walked the streets for hours on end, you opted to head straight to the park and sat down on the nearest bench. You sifted through your pocket, pulling the envelope out. You couldn’t help noting that it smelled of lavender and cinnamon as you gently broke the seal. There, the words you had been waiting anxiously to read.

Dearest,

I dreamt of you last night. I dreamt of those eyes so deep I was tempted to swim in them. Of that laugh so melodious I was tempted to turn it into a symphony. Of the lips so sweet I was tempted to kiss them. Alas, I know not if I shall ever reveal myself to you. I know you must be dying to figure me out. But you must understand I couldn’t bear to be rejected by you. You drive me mad! When I am awake, you occupy my every thought, and when I sleep you visit me in dreams! I am a tormented man, but oh, how smitten I am with my torment! I clutch it to my chest and carry it with me wherever I go. How could I not? When it was you who gave it to me. Such a state of delirium is the one you have driven me to, simply by existing. Anyway, all this to say that I love you and always will. Write to me, my love. I’ll be waiting.

You pressed the piece of paper to your heart, beating faster than ever. You folded the letter back and let it fall into your pocket once more before starting for the Bridgerton house. It took every fiber in you to go on with this written affair for months on end without uttering a word to your good friend Daphne. But you felt it was something too precious, too fragile to speak of; like a creature as easily spooked as it is beautiful. 

This was what you repeated to yourself in your mind when you arrived at the Bridgertons’, and Daphne swore you had a glow about you only people in love wear. 

“Come now, who is it?” she teased as she delicately sipped her tea. “You must tell me!” 

You shook your head with a playful roll of your eyes. “There truly is nothing to tell, Daph. You must believe me.”

“Nonsense!” she poked on. “I wish to know the lucky gentleman who has you so obviously smitten.” It was then that the others entered the parlor. Anthony, with Kate on his arm, and Colin and Benedict following suit. “Fill us in on today’s gossip, sister.” jested Benedict as he lounged on the nearest chaise with his usual happy-go-lucky air. How handsome he looked today, his jet black hair shiny as ever, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“There’s nothing to share, you busybody.” Daphne scolded him lightly. “Mind your own affairs.” At this, Benedict shot you a cheeky look, one you couldn’t help but return. You wondered if your secret admirer was as handsome as he was, as sweet and boyish.

“Oh!” Daphne exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you! We are holding a ball this weekend! Isn’t that exciting?” You felt yourself light up at the news. Exciting indeed. Many things can happen at a ball, dances shared and souls intertwined, and perhaps a certain identity revealed.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl

[flowershines]

Break up sex

Hyung Line x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Angst, Breaking up, Breakup sex, toxic friends, drinking, miss communication, jealousy,

Heeseung:

For the past week things between the two of you became more complicated as both of you had work that took up all of your time along with loss of communication.

The topic came up before but not as a full break up, you both were saying how you needed to take a break. Which it was good when you got back together but your relationship had been spiraling and not getting any better.

Not wanting to break his heart you told him you didn’t think your relationship was going to work out as you told him that you always will love him and never wanted this to happen but it was for the best.

• “Please don’t do this to me Y/n.”

• “Need you, please.”

• “Can I have you for one last time?”

• “I’m hoping this isn’t the last time we do this.”

• “Fuck Y/n.” as tears rolled down his face

• “Can’t live without you.”

Jay:

“Why are you always hanging out with him?!” he questioned as both walked into the house, rolling your eyes, you looked at him “because he’s my friend and you act like I don’t hangout with you, I do. You just love to nitpick everything I do with him!” he glared at you as your tone had risen to what it was before.

This wasn’t the first time Jay had gotten jealous of your guy friend, you asked why he bothered Jay so much which he never responded with.

As the relationship continued you started to notice how he would never let you hang out with other guys except him and occasionally his friends, even then it was hard to hangout with them without getting glanced at every minute to make sure you weren’t looking at them.

“Why can’t I be friends with guys?” “Why do you want to be friends with guys?” “What do you mean? Men are like half of the population, you just expect me to not talk to them for the rest of my life?!” He stayed silent, “If that’s how it is then I don’t think our relationship is going to work out, it’s not that i don’t wanna be in a relationship with you. I do but I can't have you constantly controlling me.” his silence continued with tears rolling down his cheeks.

• “I will always love you Y/n never forget that.”

• “You can always come back to me, I’ll be here.”

• “I wish I could stay inside you forever.”

• “Kiss me one more time before you go.”

Jake:

Talking about your problems in your relationship with him easily turns into a screaming match, most of them had to deal with lying, work, jealousy, drunkenness and a lot of other stupid things that happened revolving around you both.

The most recent one broke your heart to even think about, that night Jake had come home drunk as he kept repeating your insecurities saying how stupid they were and then agreeing with all of them.

Not wanting to hear him anymore you went into your room and started balling your eyes out as you just couldn’t put up with arguments like these when he wasn’t even in the right state of mind ruining your time with the one person who you truly loved.

Leaving the house you had put him to bed and left a note saying ‘call me when you wake up, we need to talk.’

The next morning he did exactly what you asked, “Is everything alright baby?” “I’m coming over.” you hung up the phone and made your way over.

You explained to him how you couldn’t watch your relationship just ease away from every single fight you guys got into, not to mention him not being sober to even understand half of them.

• “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, even if I have to leave you. I just want you to be happy.”

• “I don’t want you to go.”

• “I can change, I swear, please let me fix this.”

• “If you ever need my cock in you don’t hesitate, please.”

• “You won’t even have to look at me when we fuck, I just wanna be there for you. Not some other man.”

• “You feel so fucking good, can kiss you forever.”

Sunghoon:

Going over with your boyfriend to his friend's house was never your idea of fun, they would always find ways to pick on you and tell you that Sunghoon was way out of your league along with saying that you don’t deserve him.

Bringing it up to Sunghoon was the worst part bro wanting to hurt his feelings or break their friendship but you were just confused and upset at the way they had treated you.

When you brought it up he told you that it was their way of joking, believing him you returned to their house days later and they kept saying hurtful things to you along with hitting you and more.

You were too nervous to bring it up to Sunghoon but when you finally did he was confused at your sudden change in emotion towards his friend, he didn’t understand where you were coming from.

Proceeding to tell him that you didn’t want him to pick sides and give him some space but that ‘space’ turned into weeks, one more week later he texted you that he was ready but as he told you that he wanted to stay friends with his friend.

You told him that was okay and will always be here if he changes his mind but you would not be putting up with that abuse anymore, leading to you breaking up with him.

• “Please come back if you need to.”

• “Can I fuck you one last time before you leave?”

He would fuck you as tears streamed down his face

• “I don’t know what I'm going to do without you.”

• “Can I kiss you?”

• “I love you, always and forever.”

[narislvr]

── simp!abby drabble p.2 ₊˚ෆ

,, cws? none. pure fluff ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ── 750 words.

,, abby x fem!reader ♡ / college au

ᝰ.ᐟ continuation of this post !! -> pt III

₊˚ෆsimp!abby who can't help but fall in love all over as you doze off in her arms.

──

abby's not the type to fall easily. whether it be from the fear of getting hurt or her own stubborn want to focus on building her career and herself, romance just hadn't been a critical necessity in her life. but in the rare chance she does, she falls hard.

she had convinced you to spend the night at her dorm room, her roommate had gone out for the night leaving the room to her disposal and what better way to end the night than to have you wrapped in her arms?

you had protested at first, not wanting to keep her from being well rested for the annoyingly early class she had the next morning.

but fuck, the way she looked at you with a pleading glint in her eyes followed by the gentle kiss to the corner of your lips as she promised this would only help her rest better, had you giving in with a defeated smile.

strong arms wrapped around your waist as she buried her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in the remnants of the soft vanilla scented body spray while you quietly spoke about something she wasn't entirely paying attention to.

not that she didn't want to pay attention.

she just couldn't.

how could she when the woman of her dreams was laying beside her? on her bed, back hitting her chest as you wore one of her old Bruce Springsteen t-shirts in order to not wrinkle the pretty top you had been wearing earlier. (in reality she just wanted to see you in her clothes, but she wouldn't admit it when you jokingly teased her about it.)

It just all seemed so surreal to her.

Like, how in the world had she gotten so lucky?

sure, she had always cringed at the "lesbians move fast" stereotype finding it rather silly and unsenseicle, but in that moment she completely understood why.

as your voice became nothing more than a sleepy mumble, abby couldn't help but imagine future mornings where you two would be in the same position in your shared bed, under the roof of your own house, a dog laying at the foot of your bed as she talked about her day, you humming in response as you turned to face your then wife, cutting off her ramble with a tired kiss.

was she getting ahead of herself? Oh definitely.

and yet she couldn't help but long for that future to come true.

she’d only known you for a little over five months, but she already knew she wanted matching stockings by the fireplace, stolen kisses under the first snow, the smell of morning coffee, your charming smile as you woke up beside her, and she hoped you wanted that too.

the thought of all that alone was enough to send her into a lulling sleep. the best she's had in a while honestly, and she'd use that the following morning with a playful "I told you so" as she poked fun at your earlier hesitancy of staying over.

──

"thought your first class was at seven, why the hell is your alarm on for five?" you groan, woken up by abbys morning alarm as you turn to face your equally tired and sheepish girlfriend.

"morning run, hon. It's a good way to start the day," abby would hum, placing a sleepy kiss to your forehead in apology.

there was no morning run that day however, as she instead decided to sleep in another hour and set another alarm to get ready for class later.

──

“text me when you get to your dorm, alright? I’ll let you know when i get back from my last class so we can have lunch together.”

“i will, don’t worry, abbs. see you later then?”

she would rather spend the day cuddled up in bed with you, but alas, she couldn’t be too greedy, so instead she nods. her hands come up to caress your cheeks gently, pressing yet another kiss to her forehead as she smiles down at you. she only pulls away as you tease her that she’s going to be late, and even then, it was begrudgingly.

as she leaves the building, she can’t help the dopey smile on her face as the cool winter air hits her skin.

god, you had her wrapped around her finger and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[1d1195]

I love your writing but I'm so mad at harry for that last traditional blurb. He never adequately explained why he ignored her for the entire function. He was a SHIT and she forgave him way too easily. There's no reason for him to ignore her for the entire night. None. She should've made him explain himself.

Traditional Extra VIII - BONUS

You're so right. I don't want to make any major excuses but to defend Harry it's not his fault. It was lazy writing on my part--I seriously just didn't write it because I didn't want to at the time and I was busy, etc etc. I read it back and noticed Harry's actually like barely in this part. I wanted this to be like entirely in her head sort of thing? Like she's worried and jealous. But she knows she doesn't need to be. She's well aware Harry was just busy. But you're right. He never talked about it and tbh it's very not-Harry of him in this story to let her let it go. But I do want to assure you it wasn't that serious! Like he wasn't meant to be THAT shitty. It was more like just business stuff and he was busy and couldn't make his way over. But you're def right, so I'm going to add another little scene here (especially because I'm def struggling to update today). I don't know if it will fix all of your concerns but hopefully between my little note here and the scene below, it will help!

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close to him as the music played softly from the band that was no longer packing up thanks to Harry's verbal and monetary encouragement. With her heels on, his lips were right at her hairline which was perfect for him. "Kitten," he hummed. His other hand held hers right against his chest.

"Hmm?" She sighed softly.

"Y'were too forgiving," he told her. "I ignored you all night," he frowned.

She shook her head. "You were busy."

"I know, but..." he sighed. "I kept seeing you. Little glances. Missed you so much. Wasn't nice of me."

"You had important business to--"

"My love," he left her hand without his on his chest and cupped below her jaw. He skimmed his thumb along her lip making her shiver. "You are more important than all m'business."

"I'm not mad at you, Harry. I'm mad I'm jealous."

"Did I make y'jealous?"

She frowned and shook her head. Tucking her face against his shoulder. Her eyes were still red-rimmed and stung from her tears. "No," she mumbled. "Not on purpose. It's me, in my head."

"Kitten," he coaxed a finger between her face and his shoulder and tilted her face back to look at him. "S'not the point," he reminded her.

She dropped her eyes to his shoulder again. "Why did you have to dance with someone so pretty?" She murmured.

He frowned. "I didn't think she was pretty."

"You're right she was beautiful, Harry."

He sighed. "Kitten," he tutted.

"You wanted to talk about this, Harry," she grumbled.

"Well, I keep expecting you t'act like me when m'jealous--"

"Well, I'm not insane, Harry. I would know I don't have to be jealous of my best friend."

He ignored her. "--but you're jus' making me sad, beautiful," he frowned again. "I adore you. You're brilliant, gorgeous, and the loveliest person I know." Her face felt flush because of his compliments. To an outsider, it probably sounded like she was fishing for them. "Y'seriously have no idea how lost I was without you."

"I do make the company better," she shrugged one shoulder smiling impishly. She loved deflecting. Harry knew that but he wasn't going to let her get away with it so easily.

"Kitten, I don't give two fucks 'bout this company, anymore. You make me whole," he promised her. "You make me feel like there's life outside the company. When m'at these events s'all talk and business. I missed you. I wanted t'know if y'liked the food. If the decorations were how you wanted. I wanted t'know what y'wanted me t'donate to the silent auction. I don't care 'bout anything I had t'talk 'bout because y'weren't by m'side," he explained. "And I should've jus' come t'find you and I didn't. M'a shitty boyfriend for that."

Her heart fluttered as he described all the sweet little things he wished he did. "Harry, you're not a shitty boyfriend."

"I made y'jealous."

She sighed. "Not on purpose, I just... get really insecure around pretty people who know more than me."

He kissed her forehead. "Do you know how many times I said my girlfriend would know that tonight?"

"Harry--"

"You are m'whole world," he promised her. "M'not kidding. You're intelligent and stunning," he scanned her face and then his gaze traveled further south. "Y'seriously think you're not sexy as hell in this dress? With all this going on?" He trailed a fingertip along the edge of her dress. Right against the swell of her left breast and dipping along the plunging neckline.

"Louis said it looked like there was a butt on my chest."

"It does look like there's a butt on your chest. S'unfair I didn't get t'see it up close 'til now." She giggled. "There she is," he sighed with relief hearing his favorite sound in the world. "I adore you. Only you. With m'whole heart. Y'have nothing t'be jealous of. Y'have every right t'be mad at me for ignoring you all night."

"I know you didn't mean to," she assured him. "Besides, I may have donated a lot of your money to the couples spa day in the auction. Probably more than it was worth."

He chuckled bringing her closer to him again so his lips could brush along her hairline. Peppering kisses along her skin. "S'probably impossible. And it was for a good cause."

"Yeah, I'll let you know how Niall and I enjoy it," her voice was full of teasing.

But Harry growled anyway. "S'bad enough he got t'look at your pretty dress all night, he is not going t'a spa day with you."

"A couples spa day."

"Last I checked, you and Niall weren't a couple."

"You're so sexy when you're possessive. Especially about Niall."

"If y'say Niall one more time, m'not responsible for what happens t'him tomorrow."

She giggled. "No need to punish Ni--him, when you could punish me."

Harry groaned. "How much was y'dress?"

"Uh..." she blushed. Worried he was going to be mad over the cost of how expensive it was for a one-time wear. "It was $900 but I actually am just renting it. I was going to return it because--"

"No, no," he brought his lips to her ear. "M'going t'ruin it and buy y'two more so I can ruin the next one too," he promised. She felt flushed, overwhelmed, dizzy, and completely turned on. "Cat got y'tongue, kitten?" She nodded silently against him. He chuckled. "Good. Let's go home and get y'out of this dress."

[ripdragonbeans]

Zeno's Paradox // modern!Aemond x reader (2/2)

•Aemond x Reader, Aemond x Floris, Jace x reader•

Summary: You and Aemond instantly clicked when you met at university. So why did he choose Floris instead of you?

TW (overall): afab reader, p in v, oral (f receiving), swearing, talk of violence, talk of losing a body part

Part 1

You and Jace had a plan for every day. Every morning you'd meet up with him at the cafeteria. He'd sit close enough to you that your knees would be touching. Any time you talked your heads would be bent down and close, giving the illusion of wanting to be only with each other and no one else. 

It took a few days but finally Aemond and Floris showed up one morning for breakfast. Seeing them hurt your heart. You looked at Jace and nodded.

“Let's go then,” Jace smiled. “I'm gonna say a joke and you're gonna laugh like it's the funniest shit you've ever heard.” He cleared his throat. “What's red and bad for your teeth?”

Oh gods.

“A brick!”

You looked Jace dead in the eye with absolutely no amusement. “Seriously?”

“Just laugh,” he whispered.

As you saw Aemond and Floris get closer you let out the biggest laugh you could muster, without it sounding fake, of course.

“Hahahahahaha!” There was pain in your eyes but you did your best to smile like it was the best joke you’ve ever heard. “Gods, I love your jokes.”

Placing your hand on top of his, you interlaced your fingers just as Aemond and Floris came up to your table.

Aemond looked at your hands then flitted between you and Jace.

“Is he bothering you again?” Aemond asked.

“No, why would you ask that?” You cocked your head to the side and moved closer to Jace.

“Last time we talked to him you were pissed beyond reason.”

“Well, things change. People change, Aemond. And I found myself wanting to get closer. He’s much nicer when you’re not around. He’s been a big help in my Eyes of the Seven class. Right, Jace?”

Jace smiled at you. “Yeah, and you’ve been helping me, too. Studying with you is one of the best moments in my life. And now I can call you mine.” 

He leaned in and kissed your cheek. You were watching Aemond closely. His face was neutral but you knew him and his eyes were angry. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“Well…congrats I guess. I'll see you around,” he ground out. 

Aemond tried to leave quickly but you held him right where he was. You weren't going to let him go that easily.

“You're not going to eat breakfast with us? It's a nice morning!” You offered. “Floris? What do you think?”

“Oh, let's eat breakfast with them, Aemy,” Floris pleaded.

Fucking “Aemy?”

Aemond was hesitant. “Fine.”

As the pair went off to get their food you and Jace talked quickly.

“First off,” you started, “that joke was stupid. Second, good call on the kiss. Aemond hated that,” you grinned.

“Hey, that joke was funny!” Jace defended himself. “I saw the way he was looking at you. It's been a long time since I've seen him that pissed. I don't know if Floris could even tell.”

“That just goes to show how much she doesn't know him. She shouldn't be with him, they don't compliment each other.” A beat. “I swear, Aemond hasn't been himself since they started dating.”

“I'll agree that he hasn't, at least the few times I've seen him. He's stuck to Floris’ side.”

“Love that,” you dead panned.

“We're back!” Floris sang.

“Great,” you said through gritted teeth.

“So, tell us how you two started dating!” 

Aemond sat down. “Yeah, how did you start dating?”

You looked at Jace and put a loving smile on your face. “He comforted me one night. I was having a really bad day, heard some terrible news, and he found me,” you moved your focus to Aemond. “He was there when no one else was and I'm so thankful for that.”

“We started hanging out more and the rest is history,” Jace pulled you in close and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

There was a tense silence. Aemond stared at you intensely trying to get a read on you. You put up your walls and gave him a shy smile. You nuzzled in closer to Jace.

“Aw, that's so sweet!” Floris broke the silence. “I know Aemy told you how we got together so I won't bore you with our story.”

Our story.

It hurt. It hurt so much. You felt like you were in a fucking Taylor Swift music video.

Jace looked at you and saw your face devoid of color. “You okay, babe?”

You coughed. “Yeah, yeah. Um, I think I just need to get to class. It's getting late, you know?”

“It's only seven forty-five and you haven’t eaten,” Floris tried to get you to stay.

“Yeah, and my class is at eight and I finished eating before you guys got here,” you tried to get away but she stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh, you and Aemond have that class together, right?”

Fuck.

“Yeah, we do, but I was gonna go ahead. He can stay here with you. He doesn't have to come with me.”

“Nonsense! I know you two haven't been able to hang out much since we started dating. He just always wants to be by my side,” Floris laughed and turned to Aemond. “Go on, Aemy.”

Standing there awkwardly you waited for Aemond to get up and join you on the walk to Psychology.

“Hey,” Jace tugged on your hand. “I'll see you after classes, yeah?” he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

Despite Jace being an asshole to Aemond in their childhood you couldn’t help but find a friend in him, especially now. The dating might be fake but the two of you have grown to care about the other.

“Yeah,” you offered him a small smile.

You turned and left the cafeteria with Aemond but as soon as you were outside you picked up the pace, hoping to lose him. If he really wanted to talk to you he'd catch up. When you thought he wasn't going to even try, you slowed down; believing yourself to be far enough away from him. But you heard his footsteps as you neared the classroom door. He grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.

“Can we talk about this?” he whispered.

You refused to look him in the eye. “What's there to talk about? You're with Floris and I'm with Jace, end of story.”

“Exactly! You're with Jace! Why would you even think of him?”

“Because, like I said, Aemond, he was there for me when no one else was.”

“What about me? Why didn't you come to me.”

“You were busy.”

“How could you know that? I haven't received any text or message from you since Floris and I started dating.”

“I didn't need to text you to know you were busy. I saw you. You and Floris aren't exactly discreet,” you spat out.

Realization hit him. “Are you jealous of Floris?”

“I never said anything about being jealous, I just said I saw you were busy. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to take my seat in the classroom.”

“Wait.” He grabbed your arm once more. “There’s nothing serious between me and Floris. We’re just dating.”

“It seemed pretty serious when you were eating her face.”

“You know that doesn’t mean -”

“Are you trying to explain why you haven’t been around me? Because if you are, you’re failing badly.” The anger you’ve been repressing began to bubble up. “Ever since you started dating her you’ve left me. All we do is sit next to each other in class. We don’t talk. You don’t say anything in class anymore, either. You got with Floris and left me, Aemond. You fucking left me.”

You pushed yourself away from him and headed to a different seat, already occupied in front, behind, and next to you. Being next to Aemond would give him more opportunities to talk to you. As much as you wanted to talk to him, you didn't want to hear about how great him and Floris have been.

While you weren’t sitting next to him, you felt his gaze on you the entire time. Even when the professor was talking about Zeno’s Paradox, one of his favorites, he was still focused on you. It was cruel, how Zeno’s Paradox was the main lecture for today. Two points will never be together, there’s too many halfway points to make it. There’s always halfway to go.

You refused to look Aemond’s way. He sat in his usual seat, the one next to him vacant. You hoped it hurt him a bit, not sitting next to you. The entire time he’s been dating Floris you’ve been discarded. It wasn’t even until today, after prompting from Floris, that he talked to you. Maybe he felt guilty for leaving you and didn’t want to see what happened to you as a result. If that were the case, he was being weak.

Class dragged on and on. While there’s infinite halfway points, according to Zeno, it appeared the same for this lecture. You groaned loud enough for the professor to call on you.

“I’m sorry my lecture is boring you. Shall we wake up and play a trivia game?” the professor asked the class.

That woke up the class. Everyone was always willing to play a game rather than listen to a professor drone on and on, despite this professor being a very animated one. Class finished up with everyone playing the game. You tried the same strategy for leaving the room as when you tried to leave the cafeteria earlier. Quickly.

You made it out the door and down the hallway, heading for your dorm instead of your next class. Skipping one class wouldn’t hurt your grade too much. Besides, you really needed to get away from Aemond.

“Hey,” a voice called out.

You picked up the pace.

“Hey!”

You closed your eyes and sped up again. You didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want to talk to him. Once you opened the door to leave the building you sped off into a sprint. Tears were coming and you couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t let Aemond see them, as well. So, you went where you could only think of. Jace’s dorm.

“Wait up! Please! I want to talk!”

You shook your head. So close. You could see Jace leaving his dorm.

“Jace!” you yelled.

Jace looked up to see you running at him full force. He looked confused but when he saw Aemond speed walking behind you, he instantly understood. Opening his arms, you barreled straight into him.

“He’s following me. He wants to talk, Jace, and I don’t know if I can do it.” Tears were streaming down your face now.

“Do you want me to make him go away?”

Do I really want him to go away?

You nodded your head yes. Just for once, you didn’t want to be near Aemond Targaryen.

Jace cupped your face with his hands. “I’m going to kiss you.”

“Okay.”

He leaned down and captured your lips in a gentle kiss. It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t awkward. It was simply nice. When the two of you broke away, you leaned your forehead on his.

“He’s just standing there,” he told you.

You pulled your head away from Jace and looked behind you. Aemond was there, watching you. You were close enough to see his shoulders fall but you could almost see something break inside him.

It was almost the end of the semester and nothing had changed. You and Jace were still “dating” and Aemond and Floris were still together. Floris would try to say hi to you and join you and Jace at meals but Aemond always pulled her away. It was clear he didn’t want anything to do with you.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Both of you were hurting, even though you didn’t know why he was. He should be happy. He was rid of you and had Floris.

“Hey, Jace,” you began. “I don’t think we need to fake date anymore.”

“You sure?” Jace looked at you with concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m just… I’m tired, you know?” Everything was tiring nowadays. “We leave for winter break next week. There’s no reason to keep it up,” you said mainly to yourself.

“...Okay. If you say so. Should we make a big deal out of breaking up?”

“Nah, I’m not eager for anyone to really care.”

“You mean you’re not eager for Aemond to care.”

You pinned him with a sharp look. “Shut up.”

“Look, as much as I’ve enjoyed pissing him off, it’s obviously doing something more to both of you. I know you and I didn’t get off on the best foot but I do care about you, as a friend, you know.” Jace took a breath. “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“It hurts. It hurts too much.”

Jace gave you a small smile. “You can do it. If anything, you can wait until after winter break; start new, you know?”

“Yeah, I like that idea.” You returned his smile with one of your own. “Thank you, Jace, really.”

You ended the semester without saying so much as goodbye to Aemond. You left quickly and quietly. Winter break wasn’t anything to be excited about. It was nice to be with family but that was it. Some old friends visited and they were able to help take your mind off of Aemond but he was always there. No matter what you did, all you could think about was Aemond. You wondered what Aemond was doing on his break. Was he with Floris? Was he with family? 

You still cried frequently. You’ve been crying on and off since Aemond chased you and you ran to Jace. The tears should’ve stopped by now but they haven’t. It’s gotten to the point where you expected yourself to cry almost every night. It was normal now. At least the second semester would be a new start.

Spring semester began and you hoped to turn over a new leaf. You found Jace after you moved in.

“Hey, stranger,” you greeted him.

“You look a lot better than when I last saw you.” He pulled you into a hug.

“I feel a lot better. New semester, new me, right?”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, yeah.”

The two of you continued talking, catching up on the month and a half you were away from each other. Jace spent his break with his family, his whole family, including his adoptive dad. Apparently his family was a little confusing as well. His mom had an affair with a coworker and she got pregnant with Jace, but it was all okay. The guy she had Jace, and her two other children, with died in a tragic fire but her husband was quick to adopt and love them all the same.

You and Jace decided to eat dinner at the cafeteria, as sad as the food could be. Joking around and laughing, you were having a great time. Until he showed up. Jace was in the middle of telling a story about Luke and Joffrey when he stopped mid sentence.

“Jace? What’s wrong?” You were confused.

Someone cleared their throat behind you. You turned around and froze. It was him. Aemond Targaryen.

“Hey, can we talk?” Aemond looked directly at you.

You glanced at Jace and he gave you a reassuring nod. “Yeah, sure.”

You stood, urging Aemond to follow you to a spot against the wall.

“So..” you started.

“I broke up with her,” the words flew out of his mouth.

“You - what?”

“I broke up with Floris. You were right, I was pulling away from you because of her and I didn’t like that. She never tried to get me away from you, she wanted me to still be friends with you, but I found myself being scared of that for some reason. Instead, I plastered myself next to her. I found, I don’t know, some kind of structure when I was with her? Order? It was nice but it wasn’t as nice when I was hanging out with you.”

“And how did… Floris,” you still hated to say her name, “take it?”

“She said it was okay, surprisingly.”

“And now?”

“And now I want to be with you. I fucked up. I fucked up so badly. I left you when I shouldn't have. Being scared of being close to you is no excuse for how I treated you,” he sighed. “And I want you, I really want you. All of you.”

“How do I know you're not going to leave me? I don't know if I could take you leaving me again.”

“You'll just have to trust me.”

“Trust you? Trust you with my heart?”

“Yes. And I will cherish it and take of you and I will always be by your side. Please.”

“...I'll think about it.” You had already made up your mind but he didn't need to know that right now.

“Well, what about you and Jace?”

“Me and Jace? We’re fine. We broke up, too. No bad feelings between us, just figured we’d be better as friends,” you shrugged. You weren’t going to tell him it was all fake.

Yet.

There was a comfortable silence.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Maybe you should ask me properly so you can get the full answer” you teased.

“Let me start over then,” he cleared his throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You already did but sure, go ahead.”

There was a twinkle in his eye. “Will you go out with me?”

You put a hand up. “You just told me you broke up with someone, found out I broke up with someone and you immediately want to fall into a new relationship?”

“Would it be new though? There was something between us when we first met.”

“Yeah, and then you went off to date someone else.” You rolled your eyes.

“I messed up, I know that now.” He took your hand. “Give me a chance, please?”

“Wow, I don’t know. I kind of like it when you beg. Do it again and maybe I’ll say yes.”

Aemond smirked and got down on his knees. “Please, go out with me?”

“I like the sight of you on your knees.” You leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Maybe I’ll ask you to do it again when we’re in my dorm.”

He looked up at you with hope on his face. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Yes, Aemond, I will go out with you.”

A smile broke out when he stood up and gathered you in his arms.

“May I kiss you?” he pulled away slightly to see your face.

“I’d be a little upset if you didn’t.”

You met him halfway, leaning up to capture his mouth with yours. It was soft but there was so much emotion poured into it. It was just like what you thought it would be. His mouth moved seamlessly against yours; it was pure bliss. Aemond’s hand went around your waist to pull you closer but was stopped by someone whistling and clapping.

You broke away from the kiss, leaning forward to rub the tip of your nose with his. You looked around for the source of the whistle.

There he was, Jace standing up and clapping. “Whew! You did it! Now get a room!”

You laughed and pulled Aemond away, taking him to your dorm building. As soon as you arrived at your door, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one a little harder than the first. Somehow you got your key into the lock and let yourself fall into your room. Aemond kicked the door closed without breaking away from you.

“I have to tell you something,” you said between kisses.

“Whatever it is, it can wait. I want these clothes off you so I can get back down on my knees.”

“Fucking hell, Aemond, when you put it like - fuck.”

Aemond ran a hand up your body and cupped your breast. You arched into his touch.

“There we go,” he praised you. “It’s just you and me.”

You whimpered when he snuck both his hands under your shirt to take it off.

“No bra? What a bad girl,” he smirked as he leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth.

“Oh, fuck, Aemond. That feels good.”

“Mhm,” he hummed against you.

You backed your way to your bed and he gladly followed, briefly letting go to take his shirt off as well. Leaning back on the bed you admired his body. Aemond was toned and had a happy trail that certainly made you happy. You rose up on your knees and brought him back down in a searing kiss.

“I want all of you,” he murmured against your lips.

A hand traveled down to your core over your shorts where he gently pressed it against you. Once again, you found yourself arching into his touch.

“So responsive,” he chuckled. “I bet you’re fucking wet. Is that right?” He drew circles over your shorts before diving under them.

“Aemond,” you moaned.

“Hm?”

“I want you to touch me.”

“Baby, I am touching you. I even sucked on your nipples. You want more?”

“Yes, please.”

He brought his mouth back to your tits, sucking on one nipple while his other hand ripped your shorts.

“No panties, either? Tsk, tsk, tsk, you’re really a bad girl.” He dipped his fingers into your core. “I was right, you’re fucking soaked.”

Aemond pumped you full with his fingers. You couldn’t help but moan and find a rhythm with him. When he took his fingers out you frowned. He brought them to your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded.

You did as he said, tasting yourself on him. You released his fingers with an obscene pop.

“Now it’s time for me to eat that pussy of yours. Spread your legs wide, baby.”

You immediately did what you were told. The air was cold against your core but Aemond was quick to remedy that. He kissed his way up your thighs, never really going where you wanted him.

“Aemond, please,” you begged.

You felt his smile against your thigh.

“Don’t be such a tease - oh!”

His tongue flicked your clit and pleasure surged through your body. He ate you like a man starved. When he stuck one finger in you, you moaned; when he added a second and third, you arched into him; when he found that special spot inside you, you screamed.

Aemond was quick to cover your mouth with his hand and lifted his head up briefly. “Quiet, baby, we don’t want to get caught, do we? Or maybe the thought of that excites you.”

He went back to your drenched pussy, licking and sucking everything he could.

“Fucking hell, Aemond. Please, I need you inside me!”

“As you wish,” he said against your thigh.

He gave you one last kiss before slipping off his pants and underwear.

Fuck, he’s big.

Your eyes widened at his size and your mouth watered. You wanted, no, needed him inside you.

“I have an IUD, so don’t worry if you come inside me,” you told him.

“Oh, now I’m excited.” He gave you a wicked grin.

Aemond lined himself up with you and rubbed his cock against your slit. Fuck, it felt so good. He slowly pushed himself into you. It was pure bliss. He was so big but you took him in.

“There we go. What a good girl,” he praised. “You feel so fucking good.”

All you could do was nod. You didn’t trust yourself to form coherent words.

He started pumping into you, picking up the pace when you matched a rhythm with him. Aemond leaned forward, holding himself just above you, and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Fuck, this feels so right. You were made for me.”

After a few more thrusts he pulled out of you and you whined.

“On your hands and knees, baby. I want that ass in the air.”

You turned over on your stomach and shook your ass for him. When he slapped it a moan slipped out.

“You like it when I spank you? I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He rubbed the spot he smacked you and then kissed it.

“You have such a beautiful ass. Fuck, and your pussy. All for me.”

As he sank his cock deep into you, you almost screamed. This angle was so much better, you could feel all of him. You rocked back to meet him with each thrust. Aemond’s breathing was becoming ragged and you could feel yourself near your peak. He brought a hand around to play with a nipple.

“Touch your clit for me,” he ordered.

You were quick to do as he said. It brought you closer to your orgasm and it felt so damn good.

“Aemond, you’re gonna make me come!”

“Hold onto it baby, I want you to come with me.”

He started rutting against you hard, each thrust becoming more and more erratic. You never let up on rubbing your clit. You were squeezing him hard. You knew you were close. You knew he was close.

“Fuck, fuck, baby. Come with me,” he almost begged.

“FUCK!” you came hard squeezing his cock as he spilled himself inside you.

Aemond collapsed on top of you, breathing hard. For a few minutes the two of you just lay there together in pure bliss. He kissed your cheek before sliding himself out of you and rolling over to the side.

“So, how do you like dating me so far?” he asked.

“Oh, shut up, asshole.” You playfully swatted him.

“Come on,” he got off the bed and held out a hand for you. “Let’s shower so we can sleep.”

“Together? Already?” You gasped dramatically.

“Yes.” He pinched you when you stood up and took his hand.

As you started up the shower, Aemond came up and hugged you from behind. “You said earlier you needed to tell me something?”

“Oh, yeah, that. Please don’t get mad at me,” you laughed.

He gave you a skeptical look.

“Jace and I were never dating. It was all fake. I did it to piss you off.”

Aemond buried his head in your neck. “You can be such a snake,” he chuckled. “But I’m glad it was fake. I hated the thought of you being with him.”

“And now I’m yours.” You kissed his cheek.

“And now you’re mine.” He stepped away and pulled you into the shower.

“Promise me you won’t leave me again?” you asked after a few moments under the water.

“Never again, I promise.”