#lies travel faster
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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 10 months ago
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basically without exception there are 2 kinds of people in hisui in pla. there are the ones who go "hmm you're so strange and suspicious here do this dangerous task that i'm too scared/weak/lazy/whatever to do and MAYBE i'll start to trust you" and then there are the ones who go "wow you're so talented and cool and good at things here surely you'll be able to do this dangerous task for me won't you? since you're so helpful and all?" and that's why protagonist just never catches a fucking break
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proofwhisky · 1 year ago
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@oakthcrn || continued from [ x ].
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POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER, or PTSD as it's now commonly called, had not been a recognized mental illness in the early 1900s after WWI. Thomas is just one of thousands of men who fought for their lives on the front lines, fought for the honor of a King they had never met, for the dissolution of an argument they had not taken part in. Those who had survived had come back to their home countries expecting to return to their lives as normal only to find that they could not.
Many, like Thomas, were plagued with nightmares, frightening hallucinations, flashbacks, panic attacks, & other symptoms. Many, like his late friend Danny Whizzbang, had it much worse, completely consumed by their flashbacks & unable to recognize the real world around them, leaving them a danger to themselves or others. There were lucky men, though, amongst the counted veterans. Those were the dead.
Thomas has hidden most of his life from his family since his return from France anyway. It's almost guaranteed that he would hide this from them as well ; best if none of them caught sight of it, lest they pity him, or worse, take on the responsibility of trying to treat him. He suffers alone. Privately, in his bedchamber. He tells himself that he's shut the door on his time in France & that it doesn't follow him anywhere. He ignores the wound as it festers & rots.
He's never been completely overtaken by a flashback before. Not to the point that it controls his actions in the real world, outside of the confines of his own mind, to the point that he may hurt another person unintentionally. He considers himself above that kind of impulsivity, as he sees it to be. He is wrong.
It has just been a spark. An innocuous thing he's seen thousands of times ; from lighters & matches, firearms, canons, factory floors, metal on metal. Something that had never bothered him. Not before, during, or after the war, until now. He'd pulled a cigarette from his pack & gone to flick his lighter, & it had sparked, & he had frozen in place, trapped back on the battlefields of Flanders.
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A heavy hand falls onto his shoulder with the intent to pull him backwards, put him on the ground where he would face certain death. So he turns around and grips the assailant by their throat, slams them up against a wall, & —
Thomas ?
Like a thunderclap everything slams back into focus, memories put back together like missing puzzle pieces, completing the gaps that cause the expression of confusion on his face. Once everything becomes clear again & Tommy realizes what must have happened, he takes his hand from Lark's throat as quickly as he had placed it there, holding his wrist like he's afraid he may lose control of it once more.
His chest heaves like he's just sprinted through the alleyways of Small Heath to lose a pursuing copper & a bead of sweat rolls down the side of his face as he looks around like he's checking to make sure everything is real & that he's not on the elaborate set of some cruel play, still cradling his hand like it's a weapon.
Finally he looks at Lark, meeting her eyes, breath slowing.
"I'm sorry," he says quietly, moving to turn and pick up the lighter & cigarette he'd dropped, placing the cigarette into his mouth to light it, successfully this time. Tommy looks over his shoulder while he fits his cap back onto his head, wisps of smoke obscuring his face. "... I'm sorry."
He takes his coat & leaves.
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joelsgu4tar · 8 months ago
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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS
⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽
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an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3
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Series
— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...
— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.
— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...
— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.
— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.
One-Shots
— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.
— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.
— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.
— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.
— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?
— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.
— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.
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mattybsgroupie · 1 month ago
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help | chris sturniolo
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contents: fwb; first time; fingering (f receiving); p in v; use of “y/n”; virgin!reader; soft dom!chris
♡⊹𑄽୧
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: oh maria you said you’d post weekly WELL I LIED. i got pretty busy with college but ! only a few weeks left till the semester is over ♡ finally had the guts to write chris and i think i’m finally ready to admit that i NEED to have sex with him lmao. a bit different from the usual stuff (it's chris being sweet with a sub!virgin!reader) and not proofread as usual, but hope you enjoy ♡
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ requested by: anon
♡⊹𑄽୧
“ma” chris chuckled. when he noticed i wasn’t kidding, his blue eyes suddenly widened in disbelief. “are you serious?” he said in a high-pitched tone.
“well, someone should’ve told me that being a virgin is a crime” i rolled my eyes, closing my fist and playfully punching his shoulder.
“ouch!” chris pretended to be hurt. his brothers were traveling and he couldn’t stay alone with his thoughts for too long, asking me to come over and keep him company.
“i mean” he started, clearing his throat. “it’s not a crime. i just don’t understand how?” i narrowed my eyes and chris knew that meant watch your mouth. “c’mon, you know how hot you are”
“shut up, chris” the corners of my lips gave away how much i enjoyed hearing that.
chris slowly dragged his feet on the wooden floor, coming closer to me. one of his hands stopped by my hips, giving a light squeeze there.
“i’m not kidding” he whispered in a gentle tone, his blue eyes tenderly looking at me. “you’re a virgin, but you know how it works... right?” he raised one of his eyebrows.
i denied with my head, trying to look somewhere else.  “what do you mean? no one ever made you feel good?” chris questioned me again. i sunk my teeth on my bottom lip, refusing to answer him again.
i had never been intimate with any guy, and chris knew it. what amazed him was the fact that i couldn't even make myself cum.
“nah” he said, a smirk appearing on his face “y/n, you never had an orgasm?”
i could feel the sudden heat spreading through my body, the fingers he had pressed against my skin becoming warmer, my cheeks flushed from embarrassment.
“how come a pretty girl like you has never felt good, hm? we gotta change that, don’t you think?” chris said, tucking my hair behind my ear before taking his fingers to my jaw, his thumb gently lifting my chin so i'd look at him.
my heart started beating faster as his grip on me grew tighter. chris leaned in and sealed our lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, full of affection and care.
he pulled away, a silly grin hanging on his mouth. “you had done this before, right?” he teased and i rolled my eyes, letting go of him.
chris pulled me back, wrapping his arm around my waist, this time locking our lips together in a passionate, almost desperate kiss.
“let me make you feel good” he said and i let out a deep sigh, my hands immediately going to his hair, gently pulling his locks. chris moaned and wasn’t planning on holding himself back.
his sounds sent a shiver down my spine and i immediately felt myself getting wet. the grip chris had on my waist grew stronger and our tongues were fighting for dominance until he pulled away, catching his breath. a tiny strand of saliva still connected our lips together, his were swollen and flushed as if we had been making out for hours. 
chris placed both hands on my cheeks, cupping them together before placing delicate kisses across my face. i only noticed chris had been leading me towards his room when my back touched the door, the sound of wood creaking open removing me from my trance.
“you’re such a player, aren’t you?” i chuckled, noticing my situation. i couldn’t run away even if i wanted to, chris’s arms were placed on each side of my shoulders, holding me in place. “how many girls have been here before, huh?”
“you’re the first one” he said, going to my neck and starting to suck my exposed skin, making me gasp from the sudden contact.
“liar” i breathed out, tugging on his hair. chris chuckled and stopped the kisses, his gaze trying to tell me something. “i wouldn’t lie to you” he said, the emotional tone on his voice showing he was being truthful to me and to himself.
“but… you’re not a virgin” i said, placing my palms on his chest and dragging my index over his shirt, drawing circles on the white fabric.
“that doesn’t mean i’m a slut!” chris widened his blue orbs and a fake moan came out of his mouth when i playfully twisted his nipple. “i think you are” i giggled, opening the door and walking into his room. 
i threw myself on the bed, striking a sexy pose. i took off my slippers and crossed my foot over my leg, calling chris with my index finger.
he grinned mischievously, locking the bedroom door and walking towards me. chris was standing in front of me, his legs slightly parted, biting his lower lip. i adjusted my position and raised my palms up to his waistband, teasing him.
“hey, no” chris said, taking my wrists. “this is about you” he started, gently pushing my body against the mattress and crawling on top of me.
“i’m gonna take care of you. i don’t care if i end up cumming in my pants” chris chuckled, his hardened cock showing through the gray fabric.
i simply nodded, my cheeks flushing from the affection and attention. i was aching for him. i could feel my pussy throbbing, the wet patch on my panties growing bigger with each kiss.
chris tugged on the hem of my shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off. he mumbled a small “fuck” while placing his palm underneath the cloth, his large hand pressing against my tummy and making its way upwards. he groped my breasts and with his free hand, removed my shirt. “y/n... god” he whispered, “can i see 'em?” chris asked about my boobs.
“please” i moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist and bringing him closer to me. “just make me feel good, please” i pleaded, tangling my fingers on his brown locks.
“i got you ma” he chuckled at my eagerness. chris placed kisses on my collarbones and reached for my breasts, his sneaky fingers untying my bra and letting them fall free next to his face. chris clenched his jaw, licking his own lips.
“you're so fucking beautiful” he praised, placing a peck in one of my nipples. the gentle act sent a shiver down my spine, making me gasp as he started to carefully lick my hardened nub.
i could feel chris's cock lazily getting dragged against my thigh, his hips moving in a slow, rhythmic pace. he breathed heavily against my skin and each time his tongue circled around my nipple i whined.
i needed more.
“chris” i called him. “i need you— need you so bad”
“i'm right here princess” he whispered, trailing kisses down my torso. “let's go slow, yeah? i promise you're gonna feel so good” he assured me, both indexes playing with the strands of my shorts. i nodded desperately, lifting my hips up and helping him to remove my last piece of clothing.
“shit” chris muttered under his breath. “we’re both so fucking wet” he gazed at my drenched panties and then at his own pants, a wet spot of pre-cum forming on the fabric.
chris brushed two of his fingers over my underwear, nudging my clit. my jaw went slack and my thighs involuntarily attempted to close. chris chuckled lightly, tapping my knees and forcing my legs apart.
he positioned his body in between my thighs and slid down on the mattress, his face resting on my hipbone. he began to fiddle with the seam of my panties, teasing me, as if he was going to pull them off at any moment.
“stop fooling around” i softly spoke, not really mad at him. “but she's so pretty” chris said, dragging his index across the damp fabric and pouting his lips. i giggled, ruffling his hair.
chris's bright blue eyes had a both kind and concerned gaze, and he used his sense of humor to soothe me. “good girl, let me have fun here” he pulled my panties down, leaving me fully exposed.
chris gulped dryly and licked his own lips before placing two digits in between my wet folds, stroking every inch of my pussy. i gave out a deep sigh when his fingers reached me and whimpered when chris began to spread my lower lips.
chris then moved his thumb to my clit, rubbing it in circular motions. my hips instinctively bucked upwards, making me bring my palm to my face and cover my mouth in embarassment.
“don't hide it” he ordered, “i wanna hear you. i wanna hear that you're feeling good, that i'm the only one who makes you feel good”. chris laid down next to me, pulling me near his chest. he locked our lips together as his fingers remained against my pussy, slowly fondling me.
“taking me so well, princess” he whispered, smooching every spot he could reach. “think i can put a finger in? have you done this before?” chris asked, his voice full of concern.
“i… i tried” i confessed, reminding him that i had never gotten all the way to the end. “gonna go real slow f'you” he said, his middle finger slipping down my folds and reaching my entrance. chris pressed my hole and gradually entered me.
when he got all the way in, my jaw was hanging open as i panted heavily and chris kept on praising me, “there you go, such a good girl. it's all in baby, 'm so proud”.
he allowed me to stay like that for a while, getting used to his size, i moved my hips downwards when i was finally ready and chris quickly understood, curling his finger inside my walls and reaching for my sweet spot.
the knot in my lower belly tightned when he found it. “theeeere we go ma” he said, thrusting into me as he massaged my clit.
“chris” i called, desperation taking over me. “i'm f-feeling it— ah! i'm g-gonna—“
“shh, i got you. you wanna cum on my fingers?” he asked, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. “no? where then?”
“your cock, please” i said, not a thought going through my mind. all i cared about was having chris inside me. “fuck, i’m not gonna last long if you keep talking like that”.
“are you sure? we don’t have to do this, y’know” chris said and whined. “no! i want it!”
chris immediately stood up, hovering over me. he removed his pants, cock slapping against his lower belly. chris was huge, the flushed tip leaking pre-cum all the way down his veins. i held my breath nervously when he started to pump his shaft, coating his dick.
“shit, i forgot” chris spoke. “i don't have any condoms here, fuck”
“pull out” i told him and chris widened his eyes. “i'm on the pill, i promise” i chuckled, calming him down as he placed himself in between my legs.
“well, i wouldn't mind putting a baby in you” he spoke and i could feel his swollen, leaking tip rubbing against my lower lips, trying to get in. it wasn't long until my walls were stretched out, fitting chris inside of me. it burned and it hurt like i never felt before, my nails digging on his back as i squeezed my eyes shut, trying to adjust to his size.
chris began to to move his hips cautiously, just enough to make me moan. “fuck fuck fuck” i whimpered as his cock filled me up. i could feel my orgasm approaching, overwhelmed by the new sensation.
“‘m close” i cried, “so close chris fuck!”
“don't hold yourself back princess” he said, encouraging me. his fingers went to my clit, rubbing it quickly. his cock, his words, his fingers — it was all too much. the knot in my lower belly snapped and i felt my body collapsing, my mind going blank as my orgasm washed over me. my whole body trembled as chris held me close, whispering praises at me.
i whined when he removed himself, spurting his cum all over my belly in a loud groan. chris threw himself over me, nuzzling his face against my chest. “i think i’m in love with you” he said. i giggled, playfully pulling his hair “shut the fuck up, chris”.
“thank you for helping me, handsome. it was so much better than i had expected” i thanked him and he gave me a peck “anytime, princess”.
♡⊹𑄽୧
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fairene · 6 months ago
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one of your girls / ln4, part two
lando norrisxfem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
part one
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a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.
wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)
he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something. 
things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–
each other. 
and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake. 
it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely. 
but not for him. 
he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it. 
but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts. 
the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough. 
you did this to yourself. 
but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl. 
his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late. 
“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him. 
‘you’re too sweet,’ 
too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.
his favorite girl. his girl. 
“she’s here.” 
what? 
lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you. 
“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story. 
you looked…
happy. 
he…
he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you. 
lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend. 
barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon. 
gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways. 
you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up. 
rebecca stared at you expectedly. 
“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?” 
rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.” 
him? him? oh, fuck, here we go. 
as much as you wanted  to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing. 
you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile. 
but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed. 
he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael. 
“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”
“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?” 
he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend. 
the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you. 
did you expect him to? 
you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe. 
as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out. 
“uh oh.” 
the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle. 
you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would. 
lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty. 
but he didn’t stop to look at you. 
you didn’t either. 
but your hands–
god your hands
they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t. 
if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open. 
you dared him to.
but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret. 
fuck him.
you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t. 
“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking. 
“nothing.” 
and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage. 
it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.
you had thought about it. you really did. 
but you couldn’t. 
you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you. 
you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room. 
lando
you hesitated. 
suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath. 
“what?” 
your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.
“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue. 
“neither did i.” 
that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”
you were confused by the question. “yes.” 
“can i see you?” 
his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
you could practically feel him wince through the phone. 
“please.”
fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing. 
“okay.”
lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?” 
“610.”
he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night. 
your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–
there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts. 
you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take. 
he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver. 
he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time. 
lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him. 
“did you run here?”
lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you. 
you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep. 
you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt. 
“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat. 
“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that. 
“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.” 
his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his. 
“like what?”
you scoffed. 
“like you’re in love with me.” 
ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs. 
“i wanted to see you.” 
“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?” 
lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say. 
“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems. 
“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.” 
“lando, what–”
“i’m sorry.” 
huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world. 
“what–?”
“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer. 
“why now?”
he perked up, wondering what you meant. 
“why, now, are you sorry?” 
he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a  vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share. 
“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices. 
lando began to shake his head. “no, no–” 
“really?”
you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment. 
“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well. 
“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath. 
you felt his hands tense against your hips. 
“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.
your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft. 
he was confused. again. 
“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips. 
“one of your girls.”
you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.
“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.” 
“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances. 
“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same. 
lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.” 
lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he? 
he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth. 
“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him. 
your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder. 
he wiped the tears from your cheeks. 
“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.” 
you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head. 
“you have to.” 
lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem. 
he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated. 
you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs. 
little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true. 
you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one. 
when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.
you thought he was going to kiss you. 
but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own. 
your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too. 
in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.
she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles. 
you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.
you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing. 
it couldn’t be for nothing. 
when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview. 
“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.” 
she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?” 
you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you. 
“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael. 
you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her. 
raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck. 
fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble. 
you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him. 
it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you? 
or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get. 
the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.
he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life. 
you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it. 
“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away. 
but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.
“fine.” 
that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness. 
but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot. 
you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.
finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare. 
lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back. 
lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you. 
but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns. 
“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers? 
you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this. 
it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place. 
the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough. 
and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–
you hated it. 
you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…
raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable. 
and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando. 
he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated. 
you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes. 
you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs. 
after another minute of this, you were fed up. 
you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking. 
you deserved an oscar. 
“didn’t think i was that good.” 
an egot, maybe. 
you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you. 
your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going. 
and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue. 
he thought you came. 
fuck!
“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing. 
he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure. 
he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there. 
the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face. 
with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.” 
he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”
you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack. 
your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.
you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long. 
when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone. 
no messages from lando. 
did you expect any?
maybe. 
you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking. 
ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…
no answer. 
you left a voicemail.
“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.” 
and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen. 
but with your whimsy, came a price.
lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. 
then the voicemail came.
he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you. 
especially an ‘i miss you.’ 
and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you. 
he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.
with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.
your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you. 
a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears. 
‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls. 
you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.” 
your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.
and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you. 
he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul. 
you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength. 
the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all. 
clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words. 
‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate? 
you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear. 
but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did. 
when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified. 
littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water. 
your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear. 
a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you. 
you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.
though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers. 
he slipped through your fingers. 
you shut the door. 
lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him. 
but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.
all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.
in love
he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love? 
anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit. 
he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall. 
it rang twice before he heard the line connect. 
“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?” 
“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach. 
“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning. 
“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him. 
 but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?” 
“you called me.” 
shit. 
if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it. 
“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…” 
your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks. 
“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it? 
“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing. 
“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?” 
there was a pause. 
“yeah. yeah. something dumb.” 
there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.
“i’ll see you there?” 
you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it. 
“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.” 
you smiled. he could feel it. 
“okay. bye, then.” 
he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming. 
it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face. 
just a bright smile. 
your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug. 
you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow. 
“so…!?” 
you narrowed your eyes. 
“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.” 
you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways. 
“awful.” 
she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.” 
“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything. 
“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?” 
him. the inevitable. 
you swallowed. 
and nodded your head.
alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day. 
before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.
ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare. 
lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.
he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything. 
lando did too. 
but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker. 
you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.
your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away. 
it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face. 
you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers. 
but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.
you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless. 
and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart. 
it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had. 
lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers. 
“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood. 
little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten. 
“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.
“fine.” 
he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here. 
you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.
you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string. 
and you didn’t even go to his podium.
he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife. 
but he fears he lost you. 
the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display. 
did you come? 
no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–
she didn’t. you couldn’t. 
the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most. 
it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory. 
the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch. 
but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat. 
you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie. 
alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached. 
no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers. 
it didn’t take you long.
but you wish that it did. 
he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco. 
another one of his girls. 
your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl? 
your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave. 
neither did you. 
the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his. 
lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another. 
fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play. 
you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand. 
“dance with me?” 
raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness. 
but the thought left just as quickly as it came. 
your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted. 
not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face. 
his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck. 
you were just one of his girls. 
this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest. 
you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress. 
a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room. 
your lips puckered. 
lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down. 
lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room. 
you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand. 
raphael took the bait. 
his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now. 
your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan. 
lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth? 
the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree. 
his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy. 
the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–
except you would. 
this was war, wasn’t it? 
watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;
him, fucking you.
or, him leaving. 
you much preferred the latter. 
with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you. 
raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one. 
“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again. 
“i’m serious. i want–” 
“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.
you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms. 
raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?” 
lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”
raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”
“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another. 
he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest. 
his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant. 
“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand. 
“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”
his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.” 
you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?” 
his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin. 
“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”
“you let him kiss you.” 
you froze. 
“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face. 
“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?” 
you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh. 
“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.” 
you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill. 
“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.” 
“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics. 
“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours. 
“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks. 
“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair. 
“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–” 
with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it? 
“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”
you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him. 
“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”
your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice. 
a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you. 
his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk. 
“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.” 
he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much. 
your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.
you knew what he wanted. 
you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.
“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality. 
lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle. 
“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly. 
“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection. 
your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise. 
“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat. 
“what was that?” 
you whimpered. “missed you!”
“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give. 
“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.” 
your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven. 
you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would. 
the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night. 
the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared. 
“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed. 
“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might. 
“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers. 
you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!” 
his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure. 
it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else. 
lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion. 
“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”
you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more. 
“you’re the only girl.” 
you turned fully this time to face him. 
“what?”
“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words. 
“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”
lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly. 
“what do you want, then?” 
your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed. 
“i need you.” 
need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you. 
his face upturned into a smile. 
“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline. 
“lando…”
he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.” 
your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you. 
and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him. 
his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure. 
you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit. 
there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up. 
“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough. 
“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.
“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time. 
your brows upturned. “i love you too.” 
his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?” 
you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded. 
he was happy enough with that answer. 
“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you. 
“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.” 
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taglist
@sofs16 @strengthandstay @mybluesoul1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch
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anantaru · 8 months ago
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ pleasures of the flesh
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your boyfriend kaveh was skilled in many things, but especially in the bedroom // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. dirty talk, soft dom kaveh (?) & skilled kaveh and passionate love making ᰔ, fem! reader
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kaveh listens to your soft broken voice and admires each tone you utter towards him with a smile blown across his entire face.
and just as much as he longed to give you the world, in this, it escapes him again, the twist and crush in his stomach when he reminds himself that he’s save with you, in your arms, that whatever happens, he’d still be overflown with an intimate warmth coming from you, his soulmate.
"yesplease— ka-kaveh," your moans were comparatively breathy and tilted, as if pitched up to appear shy and vulnerable. the fault lies upon how well and content he treated your body, because he was one to always take his time with you— in his own state of mind, you had to be divine, sublime and deserved to be treated as such.
"h-hows that? gonna make it feel good, ’promise, baby, promise," he confidently mewls his words, gingerly grinding his hips into your soft insides, again a little deeper but not overdoing it, awaiting your reactions but also groaning as he caught the slight twitch on your bottom lip whenever he rubbed over the selected spots.
the feeling of love after all this time was still consuming him as intense as day one— and his digits travel over your sensitive chest to slide his palm over your breasts, handling your soft mounds with care while settling his cock inside of you. kaveh’s pale skin delicately glows red and his breath quickens when he ghosts over your erected nipples, filling him with pride that your bodies reactions were this intense and graceful.
"closer, ‘i want you closer, closer, closer, fuck— " it doesn’t need a genius to figure out that your boyfriend kaveh was skilled in this, beyond attentive with his attention fully fixed on the current motion. what a perfect and content lover he was too, because even before pleasuring your most beloved inches, kissing your lips in tune with his slow— but deep hurdles, he’d study what would turn you into a crying mess, vulnerable— or have your legs helplessly shake around his hips.
"closer? gonna get so close to you, yeah? everything my baby wants," he whispers and coats your glossy lips with his erratic breathing, "whatever my darling wants," he manages to huff out, "been wanting to feel you like this all fucking week,"
ever so slightly, he builds up your approaching climax, the prickling burn ringing and screaming across your lower area when he began to rock you back and forth his erection, back and forth back and forth, faster and more passionate with the desire to make you climax first— though clinging on you so he could look into your dilated, glistering pupils the moment you cum on his cock.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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a-cyclepath · 10 months ago
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One piece men | Twitter links+ Scenarios | ⚠️ MDNI ⚠️
‼️ Links are in the names. Fem reader. Ace, Zoro, Luffy, Eustass ‼️
[ Size diff, twit links, fem recieving, oral, fingering, mating press, sex sex sex ]
Short x reader scenarios written with each link !
Ace
Ace can't stop himself. He promised himself he'd only come home and cuddle you since it'd be late by the time he got back from his days travels to your home island, but he lied to himself. Losing his composure the moment he saw you and kissing you after a quick "I'm back". His impatient hands slides your shorts barley down and your underwear to the side before he's practically sucking on your lips and tongue while he's caressing your heat, groaning in-between kisses as you prop your legs up, trembling from his fingers warm from his journey.
"missed you so much. Missed you a lot. So so much." He mumbled as his fingers slid into you, beginning to finger you to bring you to your orgasm as you moaned and body jolted. He placed his hat on you before smirking. "Keep that on while we go at it."
Luffy
"Wow baby these are pretty!" Luffy exclaimed happily at the sight of your bouncing tits, moving his hands to casually grip them as if he wasn't right in this moment drilling hard and fast into you. He moved his hands to your ankles, grunting as he folded you into a press and put his forehead to yours, grinning as he somehow went even faster and harder. All the while you're moaning in bliss at your happy go lucky boyfriend happily getting lucky in your drooling, gushing heat. Your eyes roll back slightly before you look up at Luffy as he kisses your forehead while he's grinding inside you, your hand resting on his abdomen as you can barley get a moan in before throwing your head back and arching your back while moaning loudly, crashing into your orgasm.
"hng..~ Another one? That's like..the fourth one tonight haha!"
Zoro
Zoro was exchausted. Mostly, exchausted from a day of doing nothing but taking naps around your farm, so he found his way to your room and lounged back on your bed, arms behind his head. You pester him, try flirting, but he shakes his head with his eyes closed. "Nah. I'm gonna rest my eyes."
Well, then you'll find compromise.
Shimmying your boots off, then your jeans, sliding your underwear to the side, you crawl next to him, giving him those big begging eyes.
Zoro almost immiditaely caves, glancing at your ass before smirking. "I suppose I could use a midnight snack." He gestured at the end of his sentence with a flick of his wrist towards his face.
And that's how you ended up here, on his mouth drinking you in hungrily, his hands on your hips as you practically hump his tongue while moaning, her mind long since hazy the moment his tongue touched your folds, clenching your teeth as your eyes roll back everytime his tongue presses into you and his lips attach to give a kiss and suck, slurping, a sloppy eater.
"Tasty.."
Eustass
[ size diff warning ]
It's not really hard for anyone in your immidiate circle to see that Eustass might be more than a bit bigger than you. Everyone wonders how it works out between you two, some even sort of laughing when he squats down or has to lean down to kiss you
But his size goes beyond more than just kisses.
Eustass groaned, having you face down ass up in his quarters as his large hand gripped your hip, grinning smugly as he looked at the dumbed out drooling look on your face from only taking less than half of his length, Esutass cocking his head as he stared down at you in a lustful daze. " You're not going dumb from only taking a few inches of me are ya, sweetheart?" Eustass muttered before wiping his mouth of drool and shoving all into you at once, making you yelp in the best way possible before moaning as your eyes roll back. Eustass mumbled about how short you were to himself before beginning his fast quick pace, pounding over and over into you as he threw his head back, smug grin on his face all the while he groans. " Yeah yeah...love you..love you the way you are.."
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beat-the-morning · 11 months ago
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AFTER-CONCERT FEAST
Rating: +18
Relationships: Hozier/Reader
Contents: no y/n, oral sex (f! recieving), cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dry humping, accidental orgasm, (by this I mean he starts mindlessly humping the couch
Word count: 1.7k
SUMMARY: After Hozier, your boyfriend, calls you backstage after a concert he eats you out like a starving man and cums after mindlessly dry humping the couch while doing so.
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Fic under the cut💜
The concert had ended, and you were making your way backstage with a security guard in front of you. Andrew, your boyfriend, had sent them to get you, and your mind couldn't stop racing with how he’d looked at you while he sang. How his eyes lit up when he saw you in the crowd, the little smile that escaped him, that verse he messed up on when you winked at him. You could have sworn that he didn’t take his eyes off you for the rest of the concert once he noticed you.
“Here,” the security guard said, opening the door to Andrew’s dressing room. You smiled at them and nodded as a thank you before stepping in. He was waiting for you, leaning on the vanity with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Close the door, it’s fine.” He told the security guard, the door closed behind you and you smiled. He practically bounced off the vanity and onto you with how fast he took you into his arms and lifted you off the floor in a spinning hug. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he finally lowered you from his embrace.
“Came to see you,” you answered with a grin.
Andrew chuckled, then started kissing your face with every pause he took from speaking. “Yes, but why? Weren’t you visiting your parents this week?”
“Yes, but you having a concert in the same city distracted me a little.” You giggled, his beard tickling you.
“Oh, forgot your parents lived here,” he looked down at you with loving eyes that turned to confusion the second he realised what you had done. “Wait, so you bought a ticket, queued for God knows how long-”
“Twelve hours.” You interrupted him
“Twelve hours?” His eyes widened at that fact. “You did that, when you could've called me and gotten in faster and also seen me before the concert?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to surprise you!” You smiled. “And I wanted to see if you'd notice me in the crowd.”
“Well I did, couldn't take my eyes off you,” he kissed your lips.
“I know,” you kissed back. “There's going to be a million tiktoks asking who you were looking at.”
“I don't-” he stopped his sentence halfway through once he saw your shirt. “Are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking, he already knew the answer.
“No.” You lied, as it was, in fact, his shirt that he had accidentally left at your house the last time he saw you.
“You definitely are.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you teased, he rested a hand on your hip, his thumb making small circles on your skin.
“I’m sure you don’t.” His other hand rested on your cheek, caressing it gently.
Then he kissed you again, not letting go this time, you got on your tip-toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. He lowered himself lightly and bit your lower lip, you moaned in response. He broke the kiss and guided you to the couch where he pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him. You kissed him again, more passionate this time, almost hungrily, his hands explored the skin under your shirt, revelling in your warmth.
You explored each other's mouths, delighting in the taste you had so missed, the way his beard scratched your face felt like heaven, his hands travelled to your hips and ground you against him, you could feel his hardening cock rubbing against you and he could hear your whimpers every time your clit got the slightest bit of friction. He slowly lifted you up and changed the pose you were both in, setting you on the couch, and taking off your shirt and bra, promptly discarding them on the floor next to him.
Andrew's lips left your mouth and moved down from your jawline to your waistband, leaving bites and hickeys on his way, he was giving you goosebumps with the way he caressed your body so lovingly, worshipping every curve, every mole and little imperfection, as you called them, seemed like gold in his eyes, like beautiful stars in a sky only he could see. Once at your hips, he looked up at you with lustful eyes, “I need to taste you, so fucking badly,” he whispered, “but I need you to be quiet, can you do that for me, baby?”
“You know the answer to that,” you answered with a grin, already kicking off your shoes.
“Yeah, I do,” he smiled back, quickly kissing you one last time before he unzipped your shorts and pulled them off completely along with your panties, throwing them to the floor as soon as they were off you, joining the rest of your clothing. He kissed his way up your thighs, resting your legs on his shoulders. He looked up at you with his beautiful green eyes, pupils dilated to a point where they looked black, silently begging you to give him the final go-ahead before he lost himself in you.
You nodded, he smiled.
He dove into you like a starving man having his first meal in weeks, lapping up your juices and drinking you. You arched your back in pleasure. He licked from your entrance up to your clit, pressing his tongue to it just to flick it right after, you bit your lip in an attempt to quiet down, but it barely worked. His tongue worked at you expertly, he knew exactly what to do to make you squirm under his touch. His tongue travelled down from your clit to your entrance, where he lost himself and moaned just with your taste. Your breathing hitched at the sight of him eating you out, completely enamoured with his eyes closed. He was moaning as he fucked you with his tongue. As his nose rubbed on your clit just right, you thanked God for giving him a big one.
You moved his long curls out of his face, he looked up at you. Your breathing stopped for a second as he rubbed his nose against your clit while smiling into your cunt, in blinding lust you grabbed a fistful of his hair and started grinding your hips against his face. You could've sworn you heard him chuckle. The way he was holding onto your hips was sure to leave bruises later on, you didn't care one bit, you were too focused looking into his eyes and the way they were full of lust and admiration for you. How he kept eating you out even as you held his head in place and basically used him.
He was so hard it was starting to become painful, so he started rubbing himself against the couch, and God did it feel good, he started moaning into your pussy, your taste was driving him crazy, the little sounds that escaped you while he devoured you just got him harder and harder. He left your hole to go back up to your clit, sucking on it and pressing his tongue against it while one of his hands left your hip just for two of his fingers to enter your cunt seconds later, your hips buckled against him again, he placed your clit between his teeth and lightly pressed in response. Your legs started shaking when he did that, you had to place a hand over your mouth to not scream. He fingered you faster, curling his fingers into you and hitting your sweet spot.
He continued like this for a while, making a whimpering mess out of you, and thankfully, today he didn't seem to have the need to edge you endlessly until you were begging for release, he needed this as much as you, maybe even more. He was still rubbing against the couch, but he didn't notice he was doing it, he was too occupied getting you to your own high to care for himself at the moment. You were almost there, his fingers replaced his tongue on your clit, rubbing it rapidly. His mouth moved to your entrance, he knew you were close, and he wanted to taste every drop of your release.
You came with a loud moan that was thankfully muffled by your own hand, your vision went white and your legs trembled. Andrew drank you in, letting you ride out your high as he moaned into your pussy, and then you noticed his hips. He was desperately dry humping the couch, what a sight that was, you could tell he wasn't even noticing he was doing it, suddenly his hips buckled repeatedly and he was groaning into your cunt as he drank the last of you, his eyes were closed and his hand that was still grabbing you was doing so in a way that you were surprised it wasn't breaking skin. He'd come, just from eating you out, the thought made you giggle.
He kissed your clit one last time before pulling his head out from between your legs, his hair was a mess and the lower part of his face was glistening with your juices, he was panting heavily. “I- I didn't notice I was-” He said with heavy breaths, but you interrupted before he finished.
“Humping the couch while eating me out?” You asked in a teasing voice. A smirk plastered on your face.
“Yeah,” he laughed, “made a fuckin’ mess.”
“It's not noticeable from here.” You assured him.
“Good,” he leaned closer to you, hovering his body over yours, one hand held him up while the other found your waist. “Tank you for letting me do this, baby.” He kissed you gently, his accent thicker than before.
“Thank you for doing it.” You smiled.
“I love you so much,” he murmured between kisses, “my perfect girl, so fuckin' beautiful.”
“I love you too,” you kissed him back, “I should get dressed though.”
“Hmm, fine, but I'm keeping these until I see you next time.” He said, grabbing your panties from the pile of your clothes from the floor and keeping them in his hand.
“No, you're not, give them back!” You feigned annoyance, thinking he'd give them back.
“Would you rather I take back my shirt, then?”
“What would I wear then? I didn't bring a jacket.”
“Exactly, so these,” he held up your panties again, “are for me.” He placed them in his pocket right after.
“You’re horrible.” You fake pouted.
“You love me.” He grinned while handing you the rest of your clothes.
“You're lucky I do.”
“I know.”
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gingernut1314 · 6 months ago
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Call Me Baby
SDC x SDC!GN!Reader
Summary: The Stardust Crusaders need to know why you called them by their name.
Warnings: Takes place in JJBA part 3, Jotaro's kinda of goes past part 3 cause I wanted to lolol, established relationships, slight misuse of a Star Platinum??? (I say it's the only right way to use a stand buuuuuttt......), I'm pretending like Suzi Q was never in the picture (love you queen, but your husband is hot so you can travel with Lisa-Lisa) but yall are free to do as you do, the slightest mention of spice, Iggy is a PET/DOG only
Word Count: 760+, 680+, 560+, 700+ , 760+, 450+, Total: 3.9K
Song:
BABYDOLL Youtube | Spotify
A/N: because I JUST WANT TO CALL THEM MY BABY SORRY NOT SORRY
Taglist: @cinnbar-bun @lostfirefly
↞ to Jjba Masterlist | Request Rules | Blog Navigation ↠
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Jotaro Kujo 😒🐬
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Jotaro will never admit it, but he loves that you call me baby/babe
At first, he grumbles and tells you to stop but the more you do it, the more it grows on him and the less he’ll complain
When the other Crusaders get on him for it, he’ll tell them to shut the hell up as he simply grabs your upper arm and drags you further along and away from them as they cackle like utter fools.
He’s been through all the teasing and continues to let you call him that silly-ass pet name even when he utterly dislikes it (Errrrrrr--fake. He lies to himself)
So when you call him by his name on a random Tuesday afternoon he doesn’t know what to make of it
What the hell were you doing calling him by his name?
He won't respond and continues to read his book in the living room of your shared home
You’ll call for him again, thinking he didn’t hear you the first time
but this time he’ll turn his sharp, green eyes up to look at you from underneath the visor of his hat
“Who the hell are you calling for?” He asks, letting his irritation get the best of him. You just blink because what is he talking about? It’s only the two of you here. Who else would you be calling for?
“Your name is Jotaro, isn’t it? I’m calling for you so get your ass up and come help me with this. I can’t reach--”
“No.” He simply says, returning his eyes to his book. You grit your teeth and stare daggers into him, trying to think of what the hell he was going on in his mind--what the hell he was playing at
“Jotaro.” No response. “This isn’t funny.” A flip of the page in his book. 
You march over to him with a huff of annoyed air, the book he’s trained his eyes on snapped shut with a simple movement of your hand. You leaned down, placing a hand on the armrest next to him so that you could look upon the entirety of his flawless face under his hat.
“Remember what we’ve gone over together about telling each other our feelings because some of us would prefer to bottle it up and storm around all grumpy?” Those green eyes snapped up to look at you again.
“You’re starting to piss me off now.” You give him an all too bright smile, bringing your other hand up to pat his cheek in a way you knew would only piss him off further.
“Aww see, Jotaro. That’s not so hard.” You tease only for his hand to grab hold of your wrist faster than lighting, yanking you closer so that you see his displeasure up close and personal. 
“You’ll stop calling me that right now.” You blink in utter confusion at his gritted-out words.
“Then what am I supposed to--” It clicked then what he’s so worked up about. Why he keeps insisting you not to use his name. It makes your heart flutter to think that he might actually like being called by that pet name. “Oh--oh you sweet thing.” You purr in teasingly, only making those eyes of his hardened further. His grip on your wrist tightened. “You just want me to call you my baby, right?” 
Jotaro lets you go then, going for the closed book in his lap in his own unique way to end the conversation there. Oh, but you are fully invested. You weren’t going to just drop it as you might usually do. No. Not when he’s put on such a show for you. 
“Baby,” You say, lowly, stopping the books to travel upward. You watched his shoulders relax at the pet name. Such a small release of tension you hadn’t even noticed added before. “Can you please grab the tupperware from the top cabinet for me? The one with the red lid? I need it down so I can pack some goodies for your mother when we go to visit her tonight.” 
“Fine.” He said, going to stand from his seat, but you kept him caged in. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face as you looked over his features, which he always tried to keep oh so emotionless. 
You leaned in, placing a quick peck to his feather-soft lips. 
“Thank you, babe.” You said, moving away so that he could stand. 
“Good grief.” He grumbled, sounding and looking all so annoyed, but he couldn’t control Star Platinum from popping an arm out to give your hand a quick squeeze.
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Joseph Joestar 🏃‍♂️🛬
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He’s calling you babe/baby
You’re calling him babe/baby
He hasn’t given you a choice in the matter and neither have you
It’s second nature
It’s his and yours second name
So when you call him by his first name, it can only mean one of three things
1) You’re in his arms moaning it for all to hear and making his already too-big ego even bigger
2) he’s dying/in danger and you're screaming at him to not be as such
Or 3) you’re completely and utterly furious with him and are about to murder him
But, as he’s joining the other Crusaders all gathered in the hallway of the hotel room they had picked out and hears his name growled out like it had come from the lips of some great bloodthirsty beast, he knows he’s about to get completely wiped from the face of the earth by your hand 
“OH MY GOD!” Joseph shouts, heart coming to a full stop in his chest. “Hide me! Hide me now.” He all but begs to the group.
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Polnareff teases as Joseph grabs for his arm.
“What the hell did you do now, old man?” Jotaro asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 
“I don’t know!” Joseph just managed to get out before the door to your hotel room swung open with a bang. He gives a shout in fright as he pulls Polnareff in front of him in an attempt to hide himself. 
“Joseph Joestar.” You fume, marching down the hall towards the group. 
“Last name too. Huh.” Kakyoin observes from where he stood next to Jotaro. 
“Get your ass over here. Right. Now.” You hiss, shoving Polnareff out of your way. The Frenchman began to laugh hysterically, unable to keep it down any longer.
“What? You’re gonna have to speak up, my sweet honey bunch, sugar pie, love of my life. My hearing isn’t how it once was.” Joseph panicked, reaching for Avdol’s arm only for the fortuneteller to move out of the way. 
“Forgive me, friend. This is your battle alone.”
“But--but--” A hand grabbing hold of his shirt froze him in his place. “B-baby…hey. Mornin’.” He said, slowly turning around to face your wrath. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today? No?” He gently unraveled your fingers from his shirt to hold it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just--look at you. You take my damn breath--”
“Joseph.” The man gave a sharp gulp at his name spoken in such a threatening way.
“Yes, sweetness?” He said, trying to soften your anger one last time with pet names and caresses against the skin of your hand.
“What is the one thing I have asked you to stop doing time and time again?” Joseph’s brown eyes flickered towards his grandson as he thought. Jotaro only pulled his hat further down his head to keep himself out of it. 
“Uh--not to use your hairbrush?” You shook your head. “Not to…eat your snacks?” Yet another shake of your head. 
“Nope. Want to take one more guess?”
“I--Do I want to?” Joseph said with a nervous laugh. 
“Next you’ll say: Sorry, babe. I was in such a rush this morning I completely forgot to not use your hair products because my hair could never be as beautiful and luscious as yours.” You said all too sweetly in the face of such anger you had been presenting.
“Heh, heh…babe, you know that's my lin--OH NO!” Joseph shouted, as you yanked him down, knocked his hat off his head, and gave his hair a good ruffle to mess up all the work he had done using your products. 
“Don’t do it again, Joestar.” You hissed, in his face, now sporting a too-cute pout. It made your anger bank the slightest. You could never resist that face, even when he drove you utterly crazy. “Find us a good breakfast place baby, and I’ll forgive you.” Joseph’s face instantly brightened and he placed a big, old smooch on your cheek. 
“You’re in luck, baby because I know just the place.”
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Muhammad Avdol 🔥🦅
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He’s not going to be the biggest when it comes to calling you baby/babe
But please go ahead and call him baby/babe
He loves it
He loves it so much he finds himself doing more and more romantic things for you just to keep pulling the pet name from your lips
He’ll shower you in flowers and small gifts and forehead kisses and praises all to have you call him baby
When he’s feeling more goofy or happy, you’ll find him calling you baby/babe right back
So on the rare occasion you call him by name, he can’t help but feel disappointed
“Have I done something to upset you?” He’ll ask softly, brows furrowed as he focused his whole attention onto you. 
“What? No. Why would I be upset with you?” You asked, turning to face him fully, your own concern etched onto your face. “I was just asking for you to pass me another napkin.” 
“Oh.” Avdol mutters in a small voice you hardly ever heard him speak in. He hadn’t even heard your question, just the utter lack of the pet name. You watched him carefully as he grabbed a napkin from the small pile the waiter had brought the group. “Here you go.” 
“Thank you.” You said, taking the napkin from his warm fingers. He turned back to the food on his plate, taking his fork back into his hand but making no move to begin eating. 
Had you done something to upset him? 
You couldn’t think of a single thing that might have done that, but something was clearly wrong. You reached a hand out to brush your knuckles over his cheek, gaining the attention of those bright brown eyes of his. He leaned into your touch, giving you an all too pinched smile. 
“What’s up?” You asked, moving you knuckles over his cheek once more. 
“Nothing. Truly. How are you liking--” “Hey--stop. Tell me what I did, okay.” You watched him pause, eyes taking in yours before his hand came up to keep yours against his cheek.
“It’s silly.” He said and you could see the slight embarrassment rising in his features. 
“I doubt it. You can tell me.” He gave you a lovely smile, squeezing your hand gently. 
“You said my name. I told you, it’s very silly.” You knew what you’d done instantly. 
“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” That smile of his only grew at the pet name. “I--you’re name is just so beautiful I just want to use it here and there.” You felt the skin of his cheek grow even warmer at your words. 
“Geez--can you two get a room.” Polnareff huffed from where you sat beside Avdol, arms crossed and a deep pout on his lips.
“Jealous?” Avdol teased the Frenchmen with a rumbling chuckle. “I don’t have any doubt you’ll find someone to call baby soon.” You couldn’t help the smile that pulled to your lips at the flutter of happiness in your chest. 
“Me? Jealous? Never.” Polnareff contiuned as you moved to take Avdol’s hand within your own. You brought it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss his skin. Those brilliantly bright eyes turned back to find you once more at the touch. 
“I love you, baby.” You murmured against his skin. 
“I love you too…baby.” He said a small smirk on his lips that had a small laugh pull at your throat.
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Noriaki Kakyoin 🍒💚
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He’s not used to the whole relationship thing
So don’t expect him to instantly be calling you baby/babe 
He might not even say it all, feeling too--strange saying it
But go ahead a call him baby/babe
He likes it
No--no he loves it
He especially loves it when you call him baby/babe when excited
The spark in your eyes as you jump and giggle and call for him using that pet name to show him whatever had gotten you this excited is addicting to him
It's especially addicting when you take his hand in your excitement 
So when you call for him using his name, he’s frozen in his spot looking towards Mr. Joestar, Polnareff, and Avdol for help
Because they might have more insight into the situation than he ever would hope to have
“Oooo--you’re in trouble now.” Polnareff teases, making Kakyoin’s anxiety spike in his chest as the Frenchmen elbows Advol playfully, though the fortune teller made no move to help or laugh. 
“T-trouble? What did I do?” Kakyoin asked, racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. 
“Beats us bud.” Mr. Joestar added, his own snickers adding to Kakyoin’s stress. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”
“But--I didn’t do--” You call his name again, cutting off Kakyoin’s frantic rush to figure out what might be wrong off. He snapped around to find you all but bouncing down the street towards the group, Joatro following behind in his typical unhurried state. Kakyoin tried to catch Jotaro’s eye, to try to keep figuring out why you might possibly be using his name, but his friend kept the visor of his hat down. 
“Y-yes?” He asked as you came to a stop before him, a bright smile on your lips. 
You didn’t seem upset. You looked all too happy to be upset…but maybe it was a trap of some sort? Maybe you were trying to get him to drop his guard so you could better shout your anger at him. 
You paused in what you were about to say, brows furrowing as you took in his panicked and stressed state. 
“Something wrong?” You asked, only making the snickering from Polnareff and Mr. Joestar harder. You took in this and then his state and felt anger begin to build in your chest.
Had they said something to him? If they had, oh were you more than ready to give them hell. 
“Kakyoin, what happened?” He seemed to sink into himself, eyes winching as he scanned over your features, which were growing more and more pissed by the second. 
“I-I don’t know. I think--did I do something wrong? Did I upset you?”
“Do something wrong? Why would you think you did something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm in comfort. 
“I don’t know. You just said my name and I don’t know--” He gave a deep sigh, looking away from you as embarrassment began to creep into his eyes. 
“Wait--You’re name? That’s why you think something’s wrong? Because I said your name?” Kakyoin glanced back at you, a small shrug on his shoulders. 
“You only ever call me baby.” Your heart hurt a bit when he finally expressed what was truly bugging him. 
“I’m--no I’m not upset at you. I like your name. I like calling you baby. I like both so I just--switched. I’m sorry sweetheart.” You said, rubbing his arm to try and soothe him. Kakyoin seemed to relax, a smile pulling at his thin lips. 
“O-oh…I feel a bit silly now.” You pulled a bright smile to your lips as you shook your head.
“No. Baby, I don’t think so at all.” That stress continued to ease within Kakyoin and it only made you even happier. “Especially when you have those two idiots whispering in your ear no doubt.” You said, shooting them a daggered glare that had their snickers turned into their own panic. 
“Come on, I found this little tea shop that’s selling a cherry tea you need to try. It’s to die for!” You said, moving your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers within his. Kakyoin was more than happy to take it and follow you.
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Jean Pierre Polnareff 💔🗡️
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Deep inhale…
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE CALL THIS MAN BABY
CALL HIM BABE
CALL HIM BABY GIRL 
He needs you to call him every last pet name in the world and then some
And he’ll do it back
He’ll do it back SO MUCH LIKE
It’s in his DNA. He can’t help it. It needs to be said right alongside every other pet name and praise he can think up 
He’s bursting at the seams every morning to wake up and whisper a “good morning, baby.” against your lips 
And he’s just as excited to whisper a “good night, baby.” before you two drift asleep wrapped in each other's arms
He melts into a puddle every time you call him baby/babe
Like--just puddy in your hand
So when you say his name--not even his first name--he’s completely coming apart at the seams panicked.
“Mon coeur, what have I done to deserve such harsh treatment?” He cried, tears brimming in his gray eyes as he grabbed your hands up in his own. His lips peppered each with kisses, flipping them over so he could do the same thing to your palms and inner wrists. It was a flurry of kisses that had your slight annoyance ebbing in your chest even when you fought so hard to keep it. 
“You didn’t take me with you to grab supplies.” You played up your anger with a humph, turning your face away from his utterly forlorned one. 
“Forgive me, please. You were sleeping so peacefully. Like an angel. Mon Ange.” His kisses continued to travel up your arm. It made your skin tingle and your heart begin to beat rapidly in your chest. 
“When have I ever cared about you waking me up, Polnareff?” You said his name only to pull a mournful cry from his lips. “What if something had happened to you? What if you had gotten hurt? Hum? What then? That would kill me.” Polnareff’s lips left your skin only so that he could pull you into his arms, trying his best to find your gaze but you continued to look away. To turn him into a near whiny mess as you crossed your arms, preventing him from pulling you flush against his chest. 
You were serious about him going off on his own. He should never go off on his own while on this journey. Not when he had been attacked while all on his lonesome one too many times for your liking.
“Je suis désolé. Please forgive me.” You peeked a glance his way, keeping your features and eyes stern compared to his pleading, pouting face that nearly had you breaking down and forgetting about the whole thing.
“Promise me you’ll never do it again.” Polnareff nodded, pulling a hand away from you only so he could stick a pinky finger up. 
“I pinky promise, mon amour.” You eyed his pinky, then his big old puppy eyes and gave a soft sigh. Your pinky found its way around his and he gave it a gentle squeeze, which you gave right back. 
“I’m serious. I don’t know what I would do if you got--really hurt.” You said, feeling your heart twist painfully at the thought of your best friend and the love of your life getting more than hurt. Polnareff’s soft, needy features shifted suddenly into that of complete and utter seriousness as he leaned in closer to you. 
“I will try my best to keep myself safe, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe above all else.” You watched him for a long moment. Watched him and just felt your love for him grow with each passing second. 
You gave in fully then, pulling your hand away from his so that you could gently cup his cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes to press a soft, tender kiss to those warm lips of his. Lips that had stars bursting behind your eyes and making you feel like you were standing on top of the world. He sighed into your kiss, holding you tighter against him and never once threatening to let go.
“Amour?” He questioned, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. You opened your eyes to find that soft, needy look had returned. 
“Yes?” 
“Please call me baby. I cannot take it any longer.” He begged, a deep blush crawling over his cheeks and neck. You chuckled, rubbing circles into his pink-dusted cheeks. 
“Baby,” A bright smile pulled at his lips, his grip pulling you ever closer. “I love you.”
“Je t’amie.” He whispered before claiming your lips all over again.
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Iggy 🐕💨
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CALL THIS PUPPY A GOOD SWEET BABY BOY 
Give him some coffee-flavored gum while you do and you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life
Will only let you pick him up, pet him, and scratch his belly once you’ve gained his trust
He’ll grow so loyal he’ll start getting a bit possessive of you if any other the Crasuders make you upset or threaten to even touch you
Their hair
Gone
Their lungs
Invaded with the foul smell of a ripe fart
Call him a baby while he falls asleep in your lap 
Just
Please call him a good, sweet baby
He’s ugly and a bit of a menace but he just needs someone to be gentle and sweet to him
“Whose the best baby boy in the world? Hum? Who is?” You ask as you pepper kiss upon kiss to his ugly little face. Iggy's little tail is waggling so much it's moving his whole body in his excitement. “The most handsome baby boy in the whole world.” 
“The most handsome? Hardly.” Polnareff huffs from where he sits next to you on the ground, arms crossed and eyes staring daggers up at the dog. “Have you seen me? I’m a cute baby boy too.” He huffs, making Iggy pause in his excitement. 
“Polnareff, you are fighting with a dog.” Polnareff growls. 
“That is no mere dog. No. That’s a devil. A foul beast come straight from hell itself to torment my innocent soul.” Polnareff hisses making you roll your eyes. 
“So mean to the itty bitty baby.” You said, voice turning back into that of a coo, placing another smooching kiss on Iggy’s stubby muzzle. Though, Iggy had now set his buggish blue eyes on Polnareff. 
“What’s he looking at?” Polnareff asked, panic rising in his voice.  
“What? This baby? He’s just looking at you. Probably wants a pet.” Polnareff’s eyes fly wide as he rushes to his feet, trying to create as much distance as he can between him and the dog. 
“Keep the demon away from me and my hair. I just fixed it.” He all but whined as Iggy began to wiggle in your grip, a growl on his lips. 
“He hardly did any damage. He’s just a good baby.” You said, loosening your grip on the short-haired dog. 
“Hardly any damage!” Polnareff shouted, taking on a defensive stance. “He tore it out!” You huffed, patting Iggy’s round belly as he continued to pull himself from your grip. 
“It wasn’t that--” Iggy shot from your arms and latched onto Polnareff’s face, becoming a storm of teeth and farts and growls that had you wincing in pity for the Frenchman, who shouted and screamed away. “…bad.”
446 notes · View notes
venerawrites · 15 days ago
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summary: You and Sasuke have been caught in a toxic cycle of love and hate for as long as you can remember. Yet when you try to break free, he finds himself unable to let you go. (14k words)
warning(s): 18+ content (minors DO NOT INTERACT!), toxic! fem reader, toxic!Sasuke (a bit ooc as well?), mentions of cheating, love-hate relationship, p in v, oral (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), fingering, unprotected sex
author's note: that was supposed to be a a short nsfw fic, yet somehow it became... this. Anyway, I am actually really proud of this one, so I really hope you enjoy! Shoutout to the anon who had send me their thoughts on toxic reader x toxic character , your message was main inspo for this one <3
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Sasuke Uchiha has made many mistakes in his life. Fact.
The biggest one, however, had to be you.
From the moment he met you during one of his travels after the war, he could feel it deep inside his chest - a growing feeling of irritation, one that he has not felt since his early genin days. He has seen women like you before - ones that rely heavily on their beauty to get what they want. One coy smile or a seductive glance was enough to tilt the odds in your favour in every situation and - God! - did Sasuke hate it. How was it fair that someone like you could always achieve anything they put their mind to with such an ease, while others had to spend years in hard work while patiently waiting for their moment to shine?
But it wasn't just your looks that captivated people. Your wit, sharper and faster than his sword, had to be your biggest weapon - and you wielded it masterfully, he had to admit. You spared no man or a woman, as you let charming lies and sugarcoated compliments tease the egos of those around you, quickly turning them in nothing more than powerless puppets in your hands.
What angered him the most, however, is how aware you were of your power. You used it unapologetically, without even a single ounce of guilt or shame, as if it was your birthright to make everyone else around you bow to your will. So when he found himself in your bed just a few days after your first meeting, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust while his fingers squeezed your throat so hard, you could swear you were seeing stars, he convinced himself that you deserve no mercy.
No, far from it!
Women like you deserved to be reminded of their place. And Sasuke was determined to be the one to do it.
He kept reminding you over and over again for the short period he was visiting your village - in your bedroom; in the shower; on the table of the Council of your village; on the training grounds under the moonlight; in the secluded corners of the leader's (who was also your pathetic lover) building where no one dared to wander. He had made it his mission you understood - no matter how cunning your schemes were, you would never have the upper hand over him.
Being a good and changed man now, Sasuke knew he couldn't just let you drift through life relying on lies and using people. So he did what he thought was the best way to deal with a menace like you...
he married you.
It his mind, it was perfectly logical solution. If you were going to wreak havoc across the nations, Sasuke figured he might as well be the one to keep you in check. He had witnessed first-hand how many fools have fallen to your sweet deceptions and he knew that if there was one man who can handle you, it was him.
In addition, you were also the perfect tool to get his many 'fangirls' and Naruto off his back. He knew that as the last surviving member of his clan there was certain pressure for him to settle down, but he didn't expect that everyone would ‘demand’ it from him so soon after the war. He still had to atone to his sins, piece together the shattered fragments of his identity and find his place in this broken world. A relationship - let alone a wife and kids - was the last thing on his mind.
Yet it seemed that everywhere he went, the whispers of the 'last eligible Uchiha bachelor' were faster - by the time he entered a village, he was eagerly welcomed by elders who would parade young women before him, as if they were animals for sale.
It was sickening, really. And no matter how bluntly he expressed he is not interested, the people just didn't take the hint.
So if he could kill two rabbits with only one shot, then…
"We are getting married," he informed you on his last night at your village, while getting dressed. It was not a proposal, or even a question - just a simple, straightforward declaration.
He didn't even spare a glance in your direction as he adjusted his clothes, almost as if he didn't pump you full of his seed multiple times through the night. Unlike any other man you've met (and fucked) before, he was always eager to leave after you two were done. He never held you close or whispered sweet nothings into your ear - no, he hated you too much to put all that effort for a single fuck.
"I don't usually go for men with missing limbs," you snickered with that signature infuriating smirk on your face that drove Sasuke wild, "But I guess the good sex and your last name are worth for me to make an exception."
Sasuke only grunted in response, before leaving you alone in your bedroom. How did you manage to get under his skin so effortlessly, he'd never understand.
He was no fool, he knew that if it was any other man - even that short, fat loser who was your village leader (and lover) - you would've turned him down straight away. But he had something he knew you wanted badly and that was the name Uchiha. You were a smart woman and had calculated all the privileges - the power, the influence, the fame - that a union like that could give you. He knew you were not really interested in him, at least not in the way other women were.
You never fawned over him or actively sought his attention. Instead you were treating him with a level of indifference, gracing him your full attentiveness only when you were intimate. And even then you liked to show your bratty side, refusing to submit and leaving him with no other option than manhandling you till you admit surrender. But you never made it easy, that's for sure.
When he brought you back to Konoha, officially as his wife, everyone thought he had lost the last bit of sanity in his head for good.
"This has to be joke..." Sakura muttered as she watched you walk next to Sasuke into the Uchiha compound, the clan symbol proudly decorating the back of your kimono. She didn't want to sound jealous or envious, but you just looked so... not his type. She had always envisioned him with a strong woman - ninja, for sure - who could balance his cold and distant nature by providing him with all the love and warmth he has been deprived for all these years.
But you? You looked nothing like that. Sure, you were pretty, but you were a civilian who couldn't relate to the shinobi's lifestyle. How Sasuke chose you, a foreigner nonetheless, from all of the available women in Konoha was beyond her comprehension.
"I don't think it is, Sakura-chan," Naruto replied from his spot next to her, his eyes unable to move away from the way you swayed your hips while walking next to his best friend. He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn't look at someone else's woman like that, but how could he control himself? He knew he was too weak to resist you the moment Sasuke introduced you to him and Sakura, and your eyes lingered just a second longer on his, before you turned away, a small smirk grazing your lips.
To say that you had quickly became the favourite woman of every person in the village would be an understatement. All of the men, even geniuses like Neji and Shikamaru, seemed to fall under your spell without much effort. Your confidence, combined with your sharp mind and beauty, seemed to draw in everyone like flies to honey much to Sasuke's dismay. Of course, he expected from you to continue to try playing your little games even after bringing you back to the Leaf, but he thought better of his old teammates.
And it wasn't just the men in the village, either. Even the reluctant women who initially questioned your motivations, like Sakura and Ino, soon found themselves drawn to your company, seduced by the idea of not having to shy away from their femininity around you. All their life they have been taught that they have to train and work hard to be considered as something even close to a man's equal - yet, here you were, without any skills or fighting abilities, managing to wrap every single man around your finger and make them inferior to yourself. You were strong in a way that they hadn't considered before - through your confidence, charm, and most importantly, intelligence.
Sasuke was feeling torn by the whole thing. On one hand, he felt like he had failed in his goal to tame you and keep you in control. A year after he made you his wife, he found himself not only unsuccessful, but completely outsmarted and outplayed by you.
On the other hand, for less than half a decade, you managed to achieve what he thought he may not achieve in his whole lifetime. Not only you had carried his twin boys - a result of him bullying all his frustration and annoyance he held toward you into your tight little pussy every chance he got - but you somehow managed to restore the reputation of the Uchiha clan all by yourself. What was once a name connected only to criminals and bloodshed, was now associated with respect, political influence, and a sense of honor. You had restored the pride that Sasuke thought he never may regain again, let alone be given by someone like you.
When you asked him for a divorce one peaceful night during dinner, he thought he has heard you wrong. His mismatched eyes narrowed, as he studied your calm expression. After six years of using his name to climb to the village's higher circles and giving him sons to continue the legacy of the Uchiha clan, you suddenly wanted to leave?
"I think we had this dance for long enough, don't you, husband?"
Your marriage was far from perfect or even socially acceptable, you both knew that. From the very beginning, it was built on mutual benefits rather than love. Sasuke never grew to be a loving husband, at least in the traditional sense of the word, and neither you learned how to play the role of the typical 'caring wife' at home. Yet, after six years together, you somehow managed to fall into a twisted cycle of love desperation and need for each other.
It wasn't the type of relationship that inspired poetry or flowery fairytales. It was raw, obsessive, and painful. There was darkness in both of you, one which you greedily embraced, feeding off each other's flaws, insecurities and unhappiness. Your fights were loud and destructive, as venomous words were aimed at each other's weakest spots. He never missed a chance to remind you of how unlovable you were - a shiny and pretty empty shell that men saw for its beauty, not for its substance. You never held back in holding his past sins over his head, bringing even his own brother as an argument when you found yourself cornered.
"Kinslayer playing house," you would hiss, the edge of your lips turning slightly upward as you notice his eyes darkening, "I wonder what your dear brother would think if he saw you right now."
Furniture would break, plates would fly, and just like every time, you would find yourselves in your shared bed, tangled in the passion and chaos on which you both thrived.
It was toxic, but it was also consuming. Neither of you knew how to break free from these chains, and neither of you really wanted to. It was addicting, it was broken and it was yours.
Till it suddenly wasn't.
When you brought up the divorce, he knew you have calculated the whole thing - the twins were in the room next door and you never fought when your kids were around. If there was one genuine thing that came out from this marriage, it was your two boys Isao and Jiro. They were born a year after you wed and for better or worse, were a perfect mix of both of your personalities.
Isao was the older son - a confident and focused kid, who despite his young age, has already shown impressive skills with ninjutsu and taijutsu. He always looked up to his father, seeking his approval as he pushed himself harder and harder every day. In a lot of ways, he reminded Sasuke of himself - his black eyes were full of determination, as he refused to settle for anything but being the best in everything he did. Yet, unlike his gloomy younger self, Isao possessed a level of charisma that he surely inherited from you.
Everyone loved Isao - and he knew how to use it to his advantage to get what he wanted, even from you.
Jiro on the other hand, preferred to stay in the background and observe, rather than to be in the centre of the attention. He had Sasuke's calm and reserved nature and unlike his brother, he didn't seek anyone's approval or attention. Quite the opposite - he preferred to hold back his true strength, patiently waiting and strategizing for the right moment to unleash it.
"I'm not letting you take my kids away from me," Sasuke promised you that night, his eyes boring into yours as he sat at the other end of the table.
His voice was cold and firm, so different from his usual venomous hiss he uses during arguments with you. But in his mind this wasn't an argument - it was just one of your many silly tantrums, a move inspired by nothing else than the desire to get under his skin.
"I am their mother and their place is with me," you stated seriously without even a hint of the usual mockery which could always be heard when you were speaking to your husband, "You can still see them during weekends - if you are in Konoha and not chasing shadows of threats across the villages, that's it."
Sasuke's jaw tightened, as he slammed his glass down louder than necessary. You didn't even flinch, as you held his gaze which was slowly becoming darker.
"What are you getting at?"
"You know very well I am getting at," you scoffed, the calm and collected composure finally cracking under the heaviness of all unspoken feelings you carried inside your chest, "When was the last time you spend more than a few days with your kids? You're constantly on the road, doing God knows what, while I am left here-"
"Stop bringing the children into this!" he snapped, interrupting you mid-sentence. His voice was low but with a note of irritation, proving to you that he was holding back for the sake of your children next door. Your lips pressed into a thin line, your teeth gritting together while you pressed your back against the chair. There may have been a fire of defiance burning inside of you, but even you knew when to draw the line, especially when he used that voice.
"This is about you, isn't it?" he clicked his tongue, his head shaking from side to side, "About your greediness and unsatisfiable need to suck the life out of everyone around you, before you move on to your next victim. What, did you already exhaust all the benefits you got from carrying the last name Uchiha?"
The room suddenly grew colder, as you stared at each other, his words still lingering in the tense air between you. He was never one to shy from the opportunity to hit you where he knew it hurt the most and in typical Sasuke's style, it was not his final blow either.
"You talk about my failures as a father all the time, but what kind of mother uses her own sons as pawns in her silly power game?"
Your breath hitched in your throat and before you can even think about it, you grabbed the dinner knife on your right and hurled it in his direction, aiming for his head. He dodged it effortlessly, his eyes narrowing as he saw you reaching for your fork next.
"If you are trying to get my head, dear wife," he said almost mockingly, catching the next flaying utensil with his hand before slamming it down on the table next to him, "Have the decency not to do it while the children are next door."
Gripping the edge of the table to stop yourself from throwing your plate next, all you could see in front of your eyes was red. Blinding, raging red, which was threatening to consume you whole.
God, you hated him! You hated him, you despised him and if it was up to you, he would burn in hell for at least a few eternities!
"You are the last person who gets to lecture me on decency," you chuckled dryly, before reaching for your wine glass and swallowing a large gulp, "Did you also talk to your brother about it when he slaughtered your whole family? Or when you killed him?"
Sasuke's expression immediately hardened and his hand clenched into a fist. He has met many infuriating women in his lifetime, but you... you were a monster! A beautiful nightmare that had her claws deep into his soul, chewing and digging into his very core.
"I've told you not to bring up Itachi-"
"Or what?" you leaned forward, one elegant brow raising as you placed your chin on top of your crossed fingers, "What will you do, Sasuke? Divorce me?"
It was clear you were pushing his limits, Sasuke knew you well enough by now to see through your attempts to rile him up. Despite his realisation, however, it was too late - you had already buried your stinger under his skin, poking at his past wounds that never closed. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to control his nerves.
"I am not giving you a divorce," he said finally, his tone cold, "So stop throwing your tantrum and find other ways to pass your free time, which you seem to have in excess. Perhaps finding a job will do you good."
Sasuke got up from his seat, pushing his plate to the side before exiting the dinner room without casting even a single glance in your direction. You pressed your lips together as you watched him leave, the door closing with a quiet thud behind him. There was a brief silence, before you heard Isao and Jiro's laughter from their room at the end of the corridor. With a sigh, you got up and you started to clear the table.
. . .
Whatever you wanted, you got. Sasuke had seen you going great lengths to achieve what you wanted. Yet, he didn't think you would actually go this far.
As a Shadow Hokage, he was used to spending months away from home, investigating threats made toward Konoha and if necessary, taking all the measures to get rid of them before they can become actual problems. Most of them were coming from rebel groups in neighbouring countries, who were trying to stir another armed conflict between the nations, but sometimes there were unexpected surprises.
One of these surprises was the letter he received one sunny morning by Koyuki, the leader of the Land of Snow. She had warned Konoha about rumours of unnamed groups, who were actively recruiting members to start a new cult against the Land of Fire. Their motivation seemed unclear, but she had provided enough evidence to give both Naruto and Sasuke a reason to worry.
Leaving the same day, he spend three months travelling across the small country, interviewing civilians, chasing trials and collecting evidence before he found out that his whole thing was orchestrated by no one else other than his own wife.
It wasn't the first time he had found himself tangled in one of your schemes. You had not only the influence, but also the connections long before you became an Uchiha. After you got his last name they only intensified and a single word from you was enough to set a whole series of events and tangle dozen of innocent people in them.
The letter from Koyuki should've been the first sign something was going on. After all, he knew that you two did know each other and that she often described herself as "girl's girl", whatever that nonsense meant. And then all the evidence that kept pointing to no one in particular, before he finally realised this was all one carefully crafted deception.
There was no cult, there were no threats and there was certainly no one in the whole country that even cared about Land of Fire, let alone bother to threaten it.
At first, he couldn't understand what was your motivation. Were you doing it to spite him? To make him look like a fool? Obviously you didn't think about about the potential damage on the alliance between the two countries, and even if you did, you simply didn't care.
"I am sorry it came to this," Koyuki said as she was bidding him farewell at the village's gates, "It’s nothing personal. It’s just a favor to an old friend."
A favor.
The word ringed in his mind the whole way back home and Sasuke didn't completely connect the dots till he came back home, only to find the compound empty, a signed divorce pack laying on the table. He didn't waste even a second in flipping through the pages, his jaw tightening as he realised that not only he was your ex-husband now, but that you planned this whole thing to keep him long enough so you can convince the Hokage to sign your request to end your marriage in his absence.
"She said you both have reached an agreement and that you specifically gave your permission for her to deal with all the legal stuff, since you know... you were away for a while," Naruto said carefully once the Uchiha confronted him, his brows furrowing in confusion, "Is there something wrong?"
Sasuke had never pulled the curtain behind your marriage before, the image of your family always being perfectly polished picture of the ideal union in front of the society - a noble warrior with a beautiful influential wife, and two talented sons, both already known as the most promising young ninjas at the Academy. To the world, you and him were the epitome of love and success.
Only the two of you knew the truth and he was determined to keep it that way.
"Nothing wrong other than the fact that the Hokage allowed himself to sign papers affecting my life in my absence," Sasuke said coldly, before laying the report of his mission on the blonde's desk, "Me and Mrs. Uchiha have agreed to hold off any final decision until I returned. You shouldn't have dissolved our marriage."
Naruto's expression faltered for a moment, before his gaze hardened at the sound of his friend’s accusation. He wasn't seeing how he was the bad guy in the whole situation, when you were the one who sought his approval of your divorce petition.
"Sasuke," the Hokage said slowly, his voice suddenly sounding more serious than usual, "I was told by Mrs. Uchiha herself that it was a mutual decision and that it was already settled."
"Are you blaming my wife for your failure to follow the proper administrative procedures?" Sasuke snapped, his eyes narrowing at the man before him. If there is one thing he had learned from you, it was how to always turn the tables in his favour.
"She was alone for months and was probably worried sick if her husband will come back at all," he continued, conveniently missing the fact that it was all you who created this whole situation in the first place, "She was acting under the influence of her distress and worry. You, on the other hand, should've known better."
Naruto sighed, before rubbing one of his hands up and down his face. What was exactly going on between you and Sasuke, he would never understand.
From the outside, you two appeared to have everything one couple could wish for - stable family (or not so much now that your divorce was finalized), money, influence, respect. People looked at you and used you as an example of what they wanted to achieve in the future.
For a long time, Naruto also believed that perfectly crafted image, and deep inside, even resented his friend for building such a life. Of course, he loved Hinata with all his heart, but he couldn't lie and say that the intensity of his job hasn't affected their relationship. There were days when he couldn't even see the eyes of his kids, let alone talk to them or train with them. His wife has always remained patient and understanding, but his guilt had already become a constant in his mind.
And then there was Sasuke.
He was often missing for months on end, yet still managed to return to a happy family back home. His kids were cheerful and obedient, excelling in their training and seemingly never resenting their father's prolonged absences. Meanwhile, you - the beautiful and intelligent civilian wife - held the household together, while single-handedly cleared the Uchiha name of whatever bloodshed had tarnished it in the past.
It was yours and Sasuke's world and everyone else was just living in it.
Yet, the more he interacted with either of you, the more he could see how different and toxic you were for each other. He had no doubt you held some type of love for each other, but it was far from the gentle and nurturing kind he and Hinata had. Yours was raw, obsessive, sometimes even cruel.
He had seen the subtle cracks in your act before. Sasuke, with his silent obsession to control you, monitoring every single step you made. Who were you talking to, what were you wearing, when did you eat, how often have you left the house - he knew everything, even when he was miles away. He has abused his position before by having shinobi watching over you, reporting every detail of your daily life to him. Naruto knew about it, but at the time he was just excusing it as Sasuke being overprotective.
The longer it continued, however, the more distant you became. Sasuke had slowly cut off your ties with everyone he deemed an unnecessary connection - including many of his old friends - reducing everyone close to you to mere acquittances.
Yet, you remained defiant. There was a challenge in everything you did - from the way you liked to oppose him in public to the way you bribed the shinobi around your house so they would spare your ex-spouse some of the details of your daily life. You liked getting under his skin and, unlike many other women would, seemed to enjoy playing with his possessiveness. Sometimes your gaze would linger just a second longer on other men, while gracing them with a flirty joke or a seductive smile, before you turn toward Sasuke to check his reaction.
"What do you want me to do?" asked Naruto, his voice laced with frustration as he stared at his old friend. He already messed up by taking your word for the divorce agreement and signing the documents in Sasuke's absence, he wasn't sure he wanted to involve himself even more in whatever game you two were playing.
"You already did enough," the Uchiha scoffed, turning away and starting to walk toward the door, "Just keep your nose out of my and my wife's business. I will take care of this mess."
. . .
During the months following the divorce, Sasuke was more of a husband to you than he has been for the whole six years you were married.
It was ironic, really. After years of him devoting himself completely to the village, he had now taken "indefinite break" because he wanted to "spend time with his family". The first time you heard this rumour you scoffed, unable to believe that Sasuke would actually let go of his relentless pursuit of redemption, let alone because of his ex-wife and kids. However, you were proven wrong the moment Isao and Jiro came back from the Academy one day, all happy and smiling because "Dad said we are moving back home".
You have been underestimating him, it seemed. You always knew Sasuke Uchiha was a man who was persistent in chasing his goals, yet you always seen his idea of honour and moral as weaknesses - flaws that held him back, instead of push him forward. Not that you lacked any, of course, but your approach has always been a bit more... flexible. You weren't afraid to bend a few moral principles if it meant gaining the upper hand.
But your ex-husband was a completely different man from the one you had married six years ago. And for the first time since you met, it was him that was always one step ahead of you.
It started with the children first. Isao and Jiro have always looked up to their father, eager to prove themselves as worthy Uchiha in his eyes. Deep down, however, they were momma's boys. Maybe because Sasuke was absent so frequently and for so long, or maybe because it was just a natural bond, the one between a mother and her sons.
With Sasuke stepping back from his shinobi duties, however, the balance had shifted. He started to be the one to take them to school and pick them up in the afternoon; he spend at least a few hours every afternoon training each one; he took them on day trips across the Land of Fire on weekends. Suddenly he was not just an absent figure of admiration in their life - instead, he was an active father, a hero, a mentor.
Then, he used that newly created bond to pull you back to your old home. At first, it was one day per week "for the boys' sake". Then it was every weekend, because "the kids deserved some sense of normality". Soon, your "new normal" was to spend almost every night back in the Uchiha compound, the casual dinners stretching into overnight stays. It wasn't till Isao and Jiro informed you that Sasuke has told them you three are moving back "home" that you realized how quickly and effectively he managed to push himself back into your life.
He had finally cracked the key to make you submit - while you were quick to dismiss and say 'no' to him, you were powerless when it was your children pleading with you.
"Ironic how you were the one accusing me of using my own sons as pawns once, yet here you are, doing exactly that," you muttered one evening, while cutting vegetables for dinner. While Sasuke was decent enough to provide you with your own house in the compound, between the boys constantly asking for family dinners and your ex-husband orchestrating late night activities for them to bond, you spend the majority of your time in the main house.
Sasuke, who was seated at the kitchen table, looked up from the scroll he was reading, his dark eyes boring into the back of your head.
"Isao and Jiro deserve to have a normal family," he said calmly, ignoring the loud snort that left your lips after he said those words. You casted a side glance at him, one of your brows raising in mock disbelief.
When you didn't receive an answer, you decided that maybe, just maybe, you needed to take it a little bit further.
"I am not going to be here for dinner tonight."
No answer.
"I have a date."
Sasuke's hand stilled and he lowered the scroll once again, his eyes closing. He knew your games by now, he knew it was not beyond you to use other males' attention as a tool to test his patience, yet he couldn't help but feel his stomach twist at the idea of you going out with another man.
"With who?" he asked after a minute of silence, making you smirk to yourself. Ah, there it was - the little crack in his stoic armor that you have been searching for! No matter how much he liked to pretend he hates you or doesn't care about you, the good old trick of bringing a another man into the conversation always worked.
"Oh, you don't know him," you replied casually, sliding the chopped vegetables into the pot and make a few stirs with the wooden spoon, "He is not a shinobi. A kind man, attentive and gentle... with two arms. Everything you are not, really."
A loud scoff left his lips and you turned around to face him, the wooden spoon dangling from your left hand. Sasuke looked at you with furrowed brows, his hand slowly starting to roll the scroll back.
"Doesn't seem you type," he observed, his head finally lifting in your direction. He didn't look half as bothered as you expected, yet you noticed the faintest flicker of annoyance bubbling right under the surface.
You needed to push just a liiiittlleeeee bit more.
"Oh, he is exactly my type!" you grinned at your ex-husband, before crossing your arms in front of your chest, "Still wondering how did I get so lucky!"
Surprisingly your words seemed to humor him and he let out a dry chuckle, while standing up from his seat. You watched him come closer, and you could feel your breath hitching as you saw his hand reaching toward your face.
But right when you thought he was about to cup your cheek, he reached to the small bowl on the shelf behind you and grabbed an apple.
"I think the real question is how did he get so unlucky," he smirked at you before taking a bite.
The AUDACITY of this man!
"Glad to know your sense of humour is just as nonexistent as it was before," you rolled your eyes at him, before turning around to stir your soup. Despite your attempt to pretend his closeness did not affect you, he could notice the small blush on the tip of your ears and the sudden stiffness in your shoulders.
"I am not joking," he calmly chewed his apple, his eyes trained on the side of your face, "He must be quite the loser to go after a woman who is still living with her husband and kids."
You grimaced at his words, your head turning to the side as you challenged him with a glare. If looks could kill, he would've been long gone by now.
"Ex-husband", you corrected him, your jaw clenching as you caught the slightest twitch of his lips upward, "I know you were too busy to attend the divorce hearing with the Hokage, but-"
"I was not busy!" he suddenly interrupted you, his expression becoming serious, "I was away because you orchestrated a whole false cult, which put our alliance with the Land of Snow at risk, just so you can keep me away for long enough to lie to Naruto and get him to sign your petition."
There was a brief silence during which you narrowed your eyes at him, before you shrugged your shoulders.
"I told you I want a divorce."
"And I told you, I am not going to give you one."
His words made you pause, the spoon still held tight by your right hand while you were clutching your apron with your left. You gave a few more stirs to your soup, before setting the utensil down and turning fully toward him.
"I always get what I want," you smiled sweetly, before reaching for his face. Just like you did before, he seemed to freeze for a few seconds, completely thrown off by your gesture. Just when he thought your fingers may brush against his skin, you snatched the apple from his hands, a victorious smirk on your face.
"I thought you knew that by now."
. . .
It wasn't everyday that a man had the chance to take out a beautiful woman out for a dinner, and such an occasion deserved special preparation.
When your date came to pick you up, he made sure to wear his nicest clothes, put his most expensive cologne and buy the biggest bouquet at the flower shop. He lifted his hand against the massive wooden door, nervously checking that he was right on time, before knocking a few times. The door creaked open, but the view that met him on the other side was not one he expected.
"Uh... hi!" he stammered, his cheeks becoming a light shade of pink as the dark-haired man before him stared at him blankly. A few minutes of silence passed, during which Sasuke looked him up and down, before he raised a dark brow.
"Are you lost?" your ex-husband asked impatiently. So far the only true characteristic from your description earlier is the fact the man had two arms. But handsome? Pffttt.
The man blinked rapidly before clearing his throat a bit. Of course, he found it strange that you told him to pick you up from the Uchiha compound, as you were not with Sasuke anymore, but he assumed you got the house during the divorce proceeding. He didn’t think you lived together.
"No, no! I am here to pick up-"
"My wife?" Sasuke interrupted, his expression bored. He had to bite back a smirk as he looked at your date chuckling nervously, before scratching the back of his head. It was as clear as day that you did all this to get him jealous, but honestly you could do so much better than this idiot.
"Your ex-wife" the man furrowed his brows, mentally praying to all deities he could think of, that you did not in fact get back together with the Uchiha. Not that he blamed you - if he was a woman, he wouldn't let go of him in the first place. You had not told him much about your marriage or why you separated, but it was clear that whatever dynamic you had going on was way more complicated than he first thought. He had heard rumours in town that Sasuke still referred to you as Mrs. Uchiha and while you pretended you have not noticed, the Uchiha crest was still proudly decorating the back of all of your kimonos.
Sasuke let his lips curve in a small smirk, as he leaned against the doorframe.
"You got the wrong door," he finally said, nodding his head toward the rest of the compound, where a numerous small houses were standing, separated by tight dark alleys, "Mrs. Uchiha lives further down in the compound."
"Oh?", your date exclaimed, his face twisted in something between confusion and reluctance, "Well, I am sorry to bother you then-"
"Follow me," Sasuke suddenly said, completely ignoring what the other man was about to say, before stepping out of the house and walking down the stairs. Your date hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between your ex-husband and the now closed door, before reluctantly decided to follow.
"I am sorry if this is awkward-"
"Loose your tie a bit, you look like you are going to choke," Sasuke interrupted once again, his eyes trained on the dark path in front of him as he didn't even glance in the other male's direction, "And uncuff your trousers! It is ridiculous for a man your age to come to pick up a woman like my wife wearing socks with printed ducks on them."
Your date flushed red, as he hurried to loose his tie and fix the bottom of his pants, while Sasuke continued to walk toward the house where you were supposedly staying. For a moment your admirer wondered if this was not just one big ploy by your husband... ex-husband to get him alone and get rid of him. As he saw the shadow of your figure passing by one of the windows in the distance, however, he relaxed.
It was all fine. It was all going to be fine-
"Wait here," Sasuke instructed as they both reached the door, before reaching for the handle. Before the man can even open his mouth to reply, Sasuke slipped inside and shut the door right under his nose.
As you heard the door opening and closing, you came downstairs to the living room, where your ex-husband was standing with his hand on his waist. His eyes widened just the tiniest bit as they landed on your descending figure, his gaze slowly running from your hair, lifted in a straight high ponytail, to your chest where a gold metallic corset was pushing your breasts forward, showing just enough skin to wake up the imagination. The white fabric of your dress fell down in gentle folds, the high slits that run up each leg, offering a glimpse of your smooth skin with each step that you took.
Ethereal. Powerful. His.
If Sasuke had to describe with only a few words, it would be exactly these.
"Can I help you?" your voice brought Sasuke back to reality and he cleared his throat, his face immediately falling into its usual stoic expression. You smirked as you noticed the apple of his cheeks becoming a slight shade of red, the idea of still having that effect on him after years tickling your sensitive ego.
"Your date is here," he said blankly, his jaw clenching as he tried hard not to let his eyes wander down once again. Damn you, damn you, damn you! When did you even got that dress? Sasuke was pretty sure he knew each piece of clothing in your wardrobe and yet he has never seen this one. There was no doubt in his mind that you didn't do all this for the awkward loser outside, you did this for him.
"Alright," you hummed, leaning your head to the side as you fixed one of your earrings, "And why are you here? You could've just send him down, you didn't have to play the role of a tour guide."
And of course your big mouth just had to shatter whatever fantasy was swirling in Sasuke's head as he was still staring at you. He rolled his eyes, a quiet scoff escaping his lips.
"If I didn't show him where you are, he would've been doing circles around the compound all night," he gave you a funny look, as he lifted a brow, "Really? You said he is the "whole package" - kind, smart, handsome, ... so far the only true thing turned out to be that he indeed have all his limbs."
You clicked your tongue as you moved toward the large mirror in the corner of the living room, completely ignoring your ex-husband who watched each one of yours steps like a predator ready to pounce on his prey any second now.
"Oh, don't be so harsh!" you glanced over your shoulder so you can give him a small smirk, "He can be polished here and there, but he still has his charm."
He let out a small chuckle, as he started to make slow, deliberate steps in your direction.
"He came to pick you up wearing socks with ducks..."
You lifted a brow, your mischievous gaze meeting Sasuke's through the reflection of the mirror.
"Oh? I didn't know that they did socks with your face on them, let alone that he is a fan."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed at your childish jab, before his features twisted in amusement. Since you saw that one childhood photo with Team 7 years ago, you just couldn't let his old hairstyle go. While he usually would scoff or roll his eyes at your antics, now he held your gaze firmly as he closed the remaining distance between you, his chest pressing against your upper back.
"You have always been one hell of a woman...," he muttered, his breath tickling the back of your neck. Your breathing increased slightly as you watched him lean over your shoulder, the playful tension that was filling the room till now quickly turning into something else.
"Do you think he can handle you?" Sasuke continued, the side of his face pressing against yours as he continued to stare right into your soul. His hand made its way toward your waist, harshly pulling you back against him till you could feel the print of his hardness right against your bottom. You let out a short gasp, instinctively leaning back against him.
"Do you think he can keep up with your little games? To match your fire, your temper..."
His hand moved lower, the tips of his rough fingers grazing the bit of visible skin there causing another shaky breath to leave your lips. It was embarrassing, how wet and bothered he managed to get you just with a single stare and a few words. The lacy underwear you have been wearing was already soaked, sticking to your puffy lips as you tried to rub your thighs together before Sasuke dug his fingers in your skin, stilling you in place.
"You're so dirty," he laughs quietly, his chapped lips grazing the tip of your ear, before landing a small kiss right behind it, "Was that your plan all along? To bring a naive fool to our home, so I can fuck some brains into you? Remind you that you belong to me?"
The blissful state your mind was in was shattered to pieces as he reminded you about your date. Shit, he was right in front of the door! As if he somehow read your mind, just second later there was an urgent knock on the door.
"Hello? Anybody there?"
Your eyes widened and you tried to push your ex-husband's hand away from you, which made him only grip you tighter. His hips buckled against you and you bit your lip, holding back a groan.
"Tell him you are going to be a minute," Sasuke instructed against your ear, his lips slowly kissing their way down to your shoulder, "Don't send him away... yet."
There was a hint of darkness in his tone and this was your first sign that you should do anything but what he is telling you. As his hand slipped through the slit of your dress and between you thighs, however, you couldn't even form a single thought in your brain, let alone follow it.
"I will be a.. ah!... minute," you called out, your voice shaking as you felt your ex-husband dragging his fingers against your laced pussy, collecting the juices that were now freely flowing through the thin material, "I am just about to be... ready."
Sasuke couldn't help but smile triumphally not only at the fact that you did exactly what he told you, but that no matter how much you said you hated him and how many stunts you pulled against him, you could still crumble in his hand with him barely doing anything.
He grazed your soaked pussy, avoiding the bundle of nerves that you desperately tried to get him to touch by wriggling your hips left and right. It was laughable, really - you always talked back to him, you always liked to oppose... yet in moments like now, there was nothing but pathetic whimpers leaving your lips.
"Sasuke," you groaned in a hushed town, earing nothing but a low chuckle from your ex-husband. The pads of his ring and middle finger circled your entrance, his smirk becoming bigger as he could feel your soaked panties basically clutching to your lips now.
"What is it, my wife?" he dragged the last word down, his mouth latching against the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Your head fell back against his shoulder, both of your hands now gripping his muscular forearm as he finally pushed your panties to the side. As he reached for your clit, gently rolling the little pearl against his thumb and forefinger, you let out a loud moan, unable to hold back anymore. Your knees buckled and you pressed your ass and back firmly against him, seeking any type of steadiness before you fall to the floor.
"What do you want, hm?" Sasuke muttered, his eyes moving back to the mirror so he could observe your fucked out expression - eyes shut tightly; glossy lips open in the prettiest 'o' shape; red colours spreading from your cheeks all down your neck... Fuck, you were a handful, but for this sight he was ready to take anything you threw his way - from insults to your poor attempts to make him jealous.
"Sasuke, you know what I want," you whined again, your head rolling against his shoulder till you found yourself face to face with him, "Just give it to me."
In any other situation he would've made you wait longer - after all you had been giving him nothing but headaches in the past few months. But as he looked down at you, his pretty wife, who was practically asking him to take her once again, to reclaim her as fully his... How could he say 'no'?
Spreading your glistering puffy lips apart, he collected some of your arousal, before roughly burying two fingers inside. You immediately fall forward, your hands gripping the sides of the mirror, as Sasuke immediately start pumping his digits in a rough pace. It's not hurtful - you are so wet, you are pretty sure you could even take his dick without any preparation - yet he couldn't mask the slight smugness he felt once he felt how tight you were. A clear sign you haven’t been with another man since him.
“Ah-Sas-..Sasuke!” you panted as his fingers brushed that one spongy spot inside of you that was making you see stars. The room was filled with your gasps and the slick sound of his hand rhythmically moving in and out of you, so loud that Sasuke was sure that the poor fool outside was hearing just as clearly.
As he felt the slight shiver of your thighs he roughly pulled his fingers out, before landing a loud slap on your quivering pussy. You gasped, your eyes immediately opening wide so you can glare at your ex-husband.
"Arrogant prick!" you thought as turned to face him but before you could say the words out loud, he wrapped his hand around your forearm before roughly pulling you toward the door.
"What are you doing?" you hissed, your eyes widening as your stumbled after him. You expected the jealousy, but making you open the door in the dishevelled state you were in was just cruel. Sasuke didn't answer, but just as you thought he would open the door and force you to face your poor date, he turned you around and slammed your back against it.
"Hello? Is everything okay in there?" your date's voice sounded and Sasuke couldn't help but roll his eyes. There is no way that idiot did not hear your whimpers of pleasure and especially the sound of your drenched pussy sucking your ex-husband's fingers in an out, why was he still here? He was either deaf or really, really ignorant.
Either way, Sasuke was determined to show him who you belong to. Or even better, he was determined to make you show him.
"Everything is fine... I will be a minute," you called out, your eyes focused on the mismatched ones of your lover - fuck, ex-lover.
Damn you, Sasuke Uchiha!
Deep down whatever consciousness you had left was quietly whispering that you should feel bad. That you actually genuinely liked the man on the other side of the door and, for once, you wanted to experience love. Real one, gentle... like the ones of all the other couples you keep seeing on the streets. Without the fighting, without the hatred, without the constant pain and hurt.
Yet as you stared at Sasuke, you felt yourself being consumed once again by the fire that has always burned between you. It was maddening and reckless to go back into the same cycle, the one that felt more like a battle rather than war.
"You are unbelievable!" you groaned quietly, your teeth gritting against each other, "Why can't you just let go? I don't want you anymore! I want something normal, something that doesn't hurt all the time!"
Sasuke's expression darkened and he narrowed his eyes while studying you. He remained silent for a minute and you thought that he may finally back off, but instead he stepped even closer, trapping you between his muscular chest and the door. His hand moved to cradle your jaw, while his head leaned forward.
"You can keep repeating the same lie over and over," he muttered, his lips barely brushing against yours, "But you know that is not who you are. It's not who we are."
A small sigh left past your lips and Sasuke used it as sign to close the little distance between you. You and him have been intimate thousands of times before, but your shared kisses can be counted on the fingers of your one hand. Maybe because kisses were usually saved for lovers, the one that shared the sweet and kind type of love, rather than the raw and brutal one you had between you. Or maybe they have always been too intimate, a confession that neither of you were ready to make till now.
Unlike other times this kiss was not just a peck or a battle of dominance. It was slow and deep, an act which was supposed to show everything that both of you couldn't put into words. As he licked your bottom lip, you opened your mouth to welcome his tongue in it - an opportunity which he eagerly took, pressing you harder against the door with his body. His hand roamed between your waist and your thighs, before he reached for your chest, grabbing one of your breasts and squeezing roughly.
"Ah, Sasuke!" you gasped your head falling back, as his lips moved down your neck, softly sucking and biting the sensitive skin there. While there was a certain roughness to his moves, he was still way gentler than usual, making you rub your thighs together in a weak attempt to get some friction. He must've saw that because a second later, he roughly pushed his own leg between yours, preventing you from getting any type of relief.
You opened your eyes just enough to send him a glare but closed them once again as you felt his fingers swiftly untying the top of your corset, before pulling your breasts out and pinching your left nipple. Sasuke could barely hold back a smirk, as you watched your back arch forward, seeking even closer contact with him.
As he moved down your body, placing damp kiss down your collarbone, chest and side of your breast, his hand found it's way under your dress once again. He started to draw small circles on your swollen clit, as his lips wrapped around your other nipple and before you could sink your teeth in your lip, you made the loudest, most pornographic moan both Sasuke and your date have ever heard.
A few moves were enough for your legs to start trembling once again, the knot from your previous denied orgasm forming once again at the pit of your stomach. You opened your eyelids as you looked down at Sasuke, who was still kissing, sucking and biting your breasts, leaving his marks all over the soft skin.
"Sasuke...," you mumbled, your hips buckling as he slipped two of his fingers inside, his thumb increasing its pace on your clit. Suddenly everything felt overwhelming - the image of your ex-husband in front of you, the sound of your date who was now eagerly knocking on the door behind you, mumbling something about how all the Uchihas can go to hell, the light above you which was suddenly shining brighter the closer you were getting to the edge.
"Come for me," Sasuke muttered against the plush skin of your boob, the harsh bite that followed enough to make the knot inside of you snap. Your fingers pulled his black locks earing a small hiss from him, finally freeing your chest from his lips.
He held you close to him as you slowly came back to your senses, your body limp in his arms. The knocking on the door behind you had stopped long ago, the memory of your date swearing and throwing the flowers he had brought against the window next to you now echoing at the back of your mind. Before you had the time to think about him, however, your ex-husband fell to his knees, his hand lifting one of your legs on his shoulder as he lifted your dress above your hips.
Sasuke had felt the lacy material under his fingers earlier, but as he was now looking at the type of underwear you had chosen to go out on a date with another man, he felt the earlier jealousy coming back to his chest. White lacy panties, which were now drenched with both your arousal and the juices from your release, with a white bow on the front... really?
"Were you planning to let him fuck you?", he asked annoyed, his forehead creasing as he glanced up at you. A bright red colour covered your cheeks, but you turned to the side, refusing to answer.
Were you? Sure, maybe the thought had crossed your mind and maybe this is exactly why you choose these panties. But deep down, you knew that even if you went on that date and let him bring you back to his house, you would've probably backed out in the last minute.
No one can handle you the way Sasuke can.
"Answer!" Sasuke snapped impatiently, his fingers pinching your swollen and oversensitive clit through your panties. You quickly shook your head, your hands burying themselves in his silky hair once again so you can pull his head away just enough to see his eyes.
"Of course not!" you said and Sasuke rolled his eyes, half-expecting for you to deny the truth anyway. If he wasn't face to face to your drenched cunt, the aroma of your juices fogging his mind with only one thought - that he needed to have you - he would've probably told you off. But even if he was one of the most powerful men on the planet, he was still just a man - and with this ethereal sight in front of hem, he could do no more than remain on his knees and worship you the way you deserved to be worshiped.
With one harsh move, your panties pooled down your ankles while your ex-husband buried his head between your legs. Sasuke always prided himself to be a man of self-control and discipline, yet the moment he got to taste you, he forgot any of that.
Heavy puffs of air mixed with loud moans, as he latched his slightly chapped lips on your clit, sucking harshly before lightly flicking the tip of his tongue against it. Your hands harshly gripped his hair, making an attempt to push him away from your oversensitive folds, which were met with a rough slap against the inside of your thight.
"Hold still, brat," he mumbled as his tongue buried itself inside of you, his nose rubbing against your shiny pearl. You wanted to snap at him, tell him he knows how much you hate when he calls you that, but your body could do nothing else than to buckle against his face, your eyelids shutting down so tightly, bursts of rainbow colours infiltrated your closed vision.
He could feel your walls tightening around his tongue, more of your sweet nectar flowing from your pussy as he hungrily drank everything you gave him. Sasuke was rarely so desperate and open, completely giving up control as he made a mess out of both of you.
"Sasuke, please-," you tried to beg, an usual softness filling your voice as you sought mercy from him. And while his pants were getting uncomfortably tight, he wanted to teach you a lesson, to show you that you are his and his only. You deserved no mercy.
Not after all your little stunts recently.
Sasuke could feel his tip leaking pre-cum just from all the sweet sounds you made, encouraging him to only start lapping at your puffy lips faster and faster, his fingers digging themselves into your soft thigh as you tried to pull away and push yourself closer at the same time.
"One more," he whispered into your pussy, his lips and chin dripping with your arousal, "I know you can give me one more."
You whimpered in response, your head falling back as he pulled a second orgasm out of you, slurping all of your juices without pulling away even for a second to breathe.
His erratic movements soon turned into sloppy licks as he cleaned you up, his tongue catching every single drop of your release. You twitched in his grasp, weakly pushing him away, the feeling of his mouth too much for your oversensitive pussy right now.
Sasuke slowly lowered your leg from his shoulder back on the ground, his arm tightly gripping the side of your hip as he tried to stabilize your quivering form.
"You came only twice and you are already shaking like a leaf," he noted with a smirk, before standing up back to his feet. Blinking a few times, you tried to ground yourself back to reality, before your arms found their way around his neck, leaning your full weight against him.
"Gosh, just shut up!" you mumbled, not wanting to break out from your euphoric state just to deal with the annoying ramblings of your ex-husband. He clicked his tongue, his hand moving to your lower back and pressing you flush against him.
For the first time in all the years you have known each other, you stood in each other's embrace without the weight of anger, hate or pride threatening to crush you. There was no shouting, no flying objects, no painful insults - just you, holding each other and silently admitting that neither of you wanted normal.
You craved chaos. You craved the intensity, the frustration, the pain, the longing.
You craved him.
Pulling back just enough to look at him, your eyes searches his mismatched ones for something - anger, hesitation, adoration, anything. You wanted... you didn't even know what you wanted either. Maybe some clarity, maybe a sign that it doesn't always have to be this messy, this hurtful and this complicated.
All you were met with was the same dark gaze that he always had when he laid his eyes on you. It was never loving or soft, not in the way that he was looking at your children, for example. With you they were always holding a storm of emotions behind them, one which you could never fully decipher.
Desire? Regret? Irritation? Admiration? Pride? Hate?
They were all there, clashing and mixing in such a way that you were never sure if he was looking at you like you were his biggest regret in life or like he couldn't bear the thought of you being anywhere else but by his side.
Hesitantly, you lifted yourself on your toes and pressed your lips against him. It was a gentle peck, unlike your kiss earlier. Sasuke stiffened for a moment, his eyes widening at the unexpected softness from you. Was this another one of your games? But before he could think more about it, you grabbed his hand and started to pull him back into the house and up the stairs to your bedroom.
Sasuke followed you almost instinctively, a certain cautiousness to his steps. He watched you open the door, before you gently pushed him in till the back of his knees hit the bed and he reluctantly sat down. His eyes twitched as you stood before his open legs, expertly undoing the rest of your corset before throwing it to the side. Your hands then slowly pushed the straps of your dress down, allowing it to fall down at your ankles, leaving you completely bare in front of him.
"What are you doing?" he asked sharply as he watched you climb up his lap. Despite his hostility, however, he didn't push you away. Instead his eyes bore into yours, studying you and trying to understand the underlying motive of your actions.
You were never this... soft. Not with him, anyway. Your sex life was a mirror of your relationship - urgent, rough, fast. You never made love - you fucked. It often felt like a battle of dominance, rather than a union between your bodies.
Now, however, you were taking your time. Your forehead gently pressed against his, as your hand started to slowly unbutton his shirt, before sliding it down his muscular shoulders. You have seen his body countless of times before, but this time it felt different. There was no other light other than the bright moonlight coming through the window, as you dragged your fingers across the numerous healed scars across his skin. It was such a stark contrast - the softness of your hands, ones that never even held a weapon, against the roughness of his body, one built for battles and war.
His breath hitched as he felt one of your hands slide down the shoulder of his missing arm and he involuntarily twitched away, almost as if he was trying to hide it away from you. His reaction was not surprising - he always tried to hide the imperfect parts of himself, his Rinnegan and his missing arm, either by using the solace of the darkness or by having you in such positions that your back would be facing his naked form.
In this moment there was nowhere to hide. And Sasuke wasn't sure he liked that.
"Don't," he said, his voice rough, "I swear, if this is one of your games-"
Another unexpected peck on his lips interrupted his train of thoughts as you continued your exploration of his body. It was weird not only for him, but also for you - he never let you in like that, not when he was completely exposed and vulnerable. It felt like you explored him for the first time, and in a way, you actually were. No walls, no layers of hate and tension between you.
"Shh...," you whispered, your breath ghosting across his skin, "I am not going to hurt you."
Sasuke wanted to scoff at your words. There was no reality or place in time where the two of you didn't hurt each other. Neither of you knew how to stop. Pain was part of who you were and as twisted as it was, it was at the core of your love for each other.
His muscles tensed as your hands slid down his abs and started to work on the strings of his pants. His hand instinctively shot out to catch your wrist, stopping your mid-way of unzipping his pants, as his breathing became heavier. He locked his eyes on you, searching for a sign, any sign that you were just playing him - either a small smirk or a mischievous spark in your eyes - yet there were none.
The look in your eyes was one of a lover, not an enemy.
Loosening his grip on your wrist, he watched you as you pulled his zipper down before he lifted his hips so you can slide down his pants. Your lips found their way to his neck, pressing soft kisses against his warm skin as you slowly trained downward. He let out a shaky breath as he felt you kissing his scars, spending extra time on the ones on his chest and abdomen before you slid down on your knees in front of him.
In the past, you have always refused to pleasure him orally. "It's something that only lovers do", you would say with a frown, drawing a clear boundaries of what you were willing to do in the bedroom. Sasuke never pushed for it, either - one thing about him is that no matter how dominant or controlling he was, he respected your wishes. As someone who wasn't particularly needy or with a high libido, he didn't care that much.
But as he watched you grab his rock hard cock in your hand, slowly rubbing your thumb across the tip and smearing the leaking pre-cum, he wondered if he actually didn't care or if he just never knew what he was missing. The sigh before him - his beautiful, defiant wife sitting on her knees and slowly pumping his dick, while placing soft kisses across his thighs - was one that has only appeared once or twice in his dreams before.
Your pace was slow, almost painful as you moved closer and closer to where he was needing you the most, your eyes shifting toward his face every few seconds in order to catch each one of his reactions. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed loudly, a pink colour covering his pale cheeks and neck. His eyes bore into yours, a barely addible moan leaving his lips once you finally wrap your lips around his pink mushroom tip.
Digging one of your hands in his thigh, you take more of him, slowly moving your head back and forth while coating his dick in a mix of your spit and his pre-cum. Sasuke groans once he feels him reaching the back of your throat and his hand instinctively goes to your head, gripping your ponytail as he tried to ground himself and not cum right then and there.
If there was heaven, this had to be it. And maybe he was there, because in what world would his ex-wife suck him off on an evening she was supposed to be out with someone else? You looked up at him through your lashes as you hollowed your cheeks, a new wave of pleasure washing over your body as you saw him closing his eyes.
"Fuck...," he breathed out, a thin layer of sweat starting to form on the top of his forehead, "My wife... just like that.."
His words only seemed to encourage you and you hummed around him, the vibrations making him buck his hips involuntarily. As you started to move faster, his grip on your hair tightened and your hand trailed down back between your legs where your pussy was clenching around nothing.
You pulled away slightly, twirling your tongue over his slit before sliding it down all the way down to his balls. You laid a few small kisses on each one, before taking his left one in your mouth and sucking harshly, earning yourself a sharp gasp from him. It was almost intoxicating, having so much power over a man, who had spend years trying to make you submit to him.
As you took his cock in your mouth again, you put even more effort in trying to bring him closer to the edge. Burying your face against his h pelvis, you flattened your tongue as you felt his head brushing at the back of your throat. Shiny tears started to roll down your cheeks and you gagged around his fat length, the need to pull away to take a breath burning your lungs, yet you didn't stop.
"Ah.. I'm.. close...," he breathed out and you could see his chest starting to move rapidly up and down, as his hold on your head tightened. Once you started to feel him pulsating, however, you pulled out with a loud 'pop', grinning once he gives you a nasty glare.
"What the actual fuck?" he snaps, his brain still foggy with the need to cum, "Are you serious?"
You only roll your eyes in response to your ex-husband's dramatic reaction, before you stood up and made your way back on top of him Resting your hands on his chest, you pushed him down till he was laying flat on his back and you hovered your dripping cunt over his pulsating cock.
Whatever other complaint he was ready to give quickly died in his throat as the moonlight exposed your full beauty in front of him - makeup smeared across your cheeks, fat tears still pooling at the corners of your eyes, pussy glistering in the juices of your own arousal. It was a messy sight - filthy, even - and a perfect representation of your love for each other.
"I need you inside of me," you gasp, your thighs trembling as you brush your swollen clit against his tip, "I need to -ah! I need to feel you!"
You didn't wait for a response as you grabbed his cock and the base and aligned it with your entrance, before slowly sinking in. Your eyes remained locked on his and almost in unison, a loud moan left both of your lips.
"Fuck..," you whimpered, your walls involuntarily tightening around Sasuke's dick as you adjusted to his length. His mouth and fingers could make you see stars, but nothing could even remotely compare to the feeling of having him inside of you. It felt like you were made for each other, his thickness stretching you out just enough for the pain to be pleasurable.
As you started to slowly move up and down, Sasuke gripped the side of your waist helping your keep a steady rhythm. His teeth sank in his bottom lip as his moved down and focused to where the two of you connected.
You let out a loud yelp when he suddenly landed a heavy slap on one of your plush ass cheeks, digging his fingers into its softness. He could feel your juices leaking all over his thighs, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder as your moves become faster.
"Good girl," he muttered, his feet planting firmly on the bed so he can start thrusting up. He did try to entertain the idea of giving you control at least for one night, he really did, but fuck - how could he, when you looked so divine above him?
The new angle allowed for his cock to hit straight into that one sensitive spot inside you and you suddenly lost balance, collapsing on top of his chest as his hand moved toward the back of your head, keeping you down so he can hit that same spot over and over again.
"Sas-ah!" you whined, your nails digging into his hard chest, leaving angry red marks after themselves. Sasuke could only smirk, his heavy breath tickling the side of your face as he picked up the pace.
"What's wrong?" he teased, his hand yanking your head back by your hear so he can inspect your face, "Did you get tired already?"
Opening your eyes, you let out a few tears fall freely down your cheeks as you glared down at him. The mix of pleasure and pain was clouding your mind and you could do nothing but moan helplessly as he roughly fucked you, completely disregarding the sensual and gentle tone you tried to settle earlier.
As you started clenching around him, the first sign that you were approaching yet another orgasm, Sasuke swiftly turned you around, laying you under him as he hovered over you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, yet not entering fully.
"Sasuke," you whined, trying to move yourself down so he can fill the burning emptiness inside of you, "C'mon, don't stop now!"
Sasuke only smirked at your words before grabbing his cock, sliding it up and down your pussy lips, before flicking your aching clit with his head. You let out a small moan, the oversensitivity causing your cunt to clench around nothing.
"Beg for it."
No amount of pleasure could cloud your mind enough for such words to slip by without your eyes immediately widening. Was he serious? As you watched him looking at you with that small annoying smile on his lips, you tried your best to avoid the aching need between your legs as you snorted loudly in response.
"I rather die needy and unsatisfied," you huffed, your brows furrowing as a small crease appeared in the middle of your sweaty forehead, "Than to beg my douchebag ex-husband to fuck me."
Your words seemed to humour him as he pushed the tip in, earning a small gasp from you before withdrawing again, his hand slowly pumping his cock as he watched you wriggling beneath him.
"What happened to "I am not going to hurt you"?" he tilted his head to the side, "I thought that included insults and your usual low blows as well."
You rolled your eyes, frustration mixing with annoyance as he continued to stroke himself in front of you, completely ignoring the fact you were dripping with need to be touched by him.
"Since when you are such a rambler?" you snapped, a loud huff escaping your lips as you started to lift yourself on your elbows, "If I knew you would waste my night like this, I would've just spend it with my date inste-"
Your sentence was cut off short as he suddenly wrapped his hand around your throat, pressing you back into the pillow as he entered you with one move. He was not gentle or careful - his dick slid all the way in, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he dug his nails into your neck.
"Shut up!" he hissed, as his pace increased even more from before. Your legs dangled weakly around his hips, as you shut your eyes, the all familiar knot starting to form inside of your stomach once again. His pace was brutal, almost animalistic, as the headboard of the bed was hitting against the wall with a rhythmic thump! thump! thump!.
"You always have to open your big mouth, don't you?" he panted, his abs clenching as he adjusted his hips forward, practically folding your body under his weight, "I'm sick of your little games, I'm sick of your attitude... fuck, I'm so sick of you!"
Instead of taking insult, your jaw dopped in a silent scream as your back arched in pleasure. You could feel your orgasm coming closer and closer, as Sasuke was squishing your under his body, his pelvis rubbing against your pulsating clit. You could feel his pace becoming more erratic as he chased his own pleasure, his fingers still tightly wrapped around your throat.
"You are going to marry me again," he panted against your mouth as he pressed his forehead against yours, "And this time I won't let you go... Ever. Again."
Just like the first "proposal", this was more of a declaration rather than a question. And just like the last time you found yourself unable to defy him, as his words combined with the way you could feel each inch of him rubbing against your tight walls, was enough to send you over the edge.
A loud moan escaped your lips as your pussy leaked cum around his cock, forming a white circle at the base. His hips stuttered as he felt you clamp around him, ropes of thick cum filling your tight pussy till it started to overflow with his seed. He thrusted once, twice, making sure he had emptied fully inside of you before he collapsed on top of you, his face burying where your shoulder and neck meet.
You let out a sigh, your hands instinctively wrapping around him as you ran your fingers through his black hair. Slowly, his breath became steadier and his heart rate slower as both of you let the reality of what you just did settle. His last words rang in your head, as your eyes remained focused on the ceiling above you.
"It would never end, would it?" you whispered in a hushed tone, almost as if you were hesitant to break the silence between you two. Sasuke stilled, his head moving to the side so he can give you a questioning glance.
"This cycle that we are in... This constant push and pull, the hurt, the twisted love that we have for each other. "
You could feel his body tense at your last words, as he let them sink. Slowly, his hand let go of your throat, before he gently brushed a few hairs away from your sweaty forehead. His gaze softened as he adjusted his position so he can study your face, his eyes trailing down the messy streaks of makeup down your cheeks.
"No," he finally murmured, his voice quieter than usual, "Maybe it's not meant to end. Maybe that's just who we are."
"What? Broken?", you laughed dryly, turning your head to the side so your eyes meet. Sasuke's expression remained blank, as his hand moved down so he can take yours in his. He didn't answer but the way his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened were enough of confirmation. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but this is exactly who you were - two broken people who never learned to give or receive anything else other than raw and painful love.
"I do love you," he suddenly said, breaking the short silence that has settled between you, "But I only know one way to."
His confession hung between you as an open wound that both of you tried to cover for too long, causing a mix of relief and heartache to swirl inside your chest. His fingers brushed against your ring finger, where your wedding band once was, and you closed your eyes, silently accepting that no matter how hard you tried to escape, you were always pulled back.
Letting go of his hair, you reached toward the bedside cabinet before you pulled first drawer open, and you got a small velvet box out. Inside, your polished wedding band shined brightly, reflecting the moonlight as you pulled it out and slid it back on your finger. Sasuke's eyes carefully followed your movements, before he took your hand in his once again, his head falling against your chest as he inhaled your scent.
You had made many mistakes in your life. Ironically, the biggest one was not him.
Instead, it was the illusion that you could escape from him, or from what you had. You couldn't. And the truth is, deep inside, you didn't want to.
cc artwork: pinterest <3
215 notes · View notes
proofwhisky · 1 year ago
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HIS HEART STOPS IN HIS CHEST when he catches sight of the stacks of boxes behind her. Gone is the warm, maximalist atmosphere he had been so enamored with upon his first visit to her home. It's cold now. Bare. He reaches out his hand just as she slams the door shut, & he closes his eyes in defeat, resting his palm against the cold wood of the door. Thomas hangs his head. When he opens his eyes, he notices the light from inside spilling out from the cracks and falling onto his shoes.
The golden light seeping through from beneath the newly-sealed door makes his heart ache something terrible. He remembers his first time here, the trouble he'd had actually getting into her flat, how long it had taken to find that small bathroom window, pick the lock, & crawl in.
He'd spent far too long gazing at her possessions & decor that night. He'd never been somewhere that reminded him so much of his home. The bed & all its cushions & silk sheets & the smell of fresh air had practically torn his heart from chest with a white hot brand, heated with memories of his mother. Her wagon. Her opulent, decadent sense of taste, how not a single inch of empty space was left uncovered or undecorated by some piece of art or practical item. He'd seen Felicia laying in her bed, so small compared to the grandeur of her home, & suddenly had been transported back to a summer long ago.
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He is fourteen. His mother and his aunt are sitting in two rocking chairs just outside the steps of her wagon, sipping tea & laughing. He approaches to ask for a scrap of cloth to mend John's trousers. His mother beckons him inside of her wagon, a place he hadn't ever been allowed inside of before, & his breath had been taken away.
Charms & trinkets hang from the ceiling, the smell of cinnamon incense heavy in the air. Everything is bright and colorful, set against the deep forest green paint of the wagon's walls, the scarlet red of her thick bedsheets & golden cushions glowing in the light of the sun as it falls through the window on the far wall. He turns to see his mother smiling kindly at him, beautiful like the sun, & she reaches out to cup his face with a delicate hand before offering him the cloth and a sewing kit.
Then Felicia stirs in bed & looks at him with such terror, obeying his commands like a beaten dog, turning the handle to the safe with a loud crack. Thomas staggers backwards with a hand to his chest, freed from his flashbacks.
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He nearly tumbles down the stairs to her entryway, steadying himself against the sturdy stone handrail to catch his breath. He can hear Polly's voice in his head.
You love her, Thomas.
He shakes his head at himself, waving a dismissive hand towards the door with a grunt of resignation, & turning his back to walk away. At least he'd warned her. She has the information she needs now, to take care of herself. He knows she can handle her own out there.
Still. He'd wanted her to stay. But he knows better than to hope for anything, nowadays. His thoughts stray to Grace & her choice to leave, the fact that she also will never come back--
& then Felicia's feet hit the steps & Tommy whips around expecting some kind of attack, reaching for a gun that isn't there.
"Felicia, wait-"
She lunges at him & he instinctively reaches out for her, unsure of her intentions. When she embraces him his muscles stand to attention, pulling his bones upright in a jolt. It takes him a moment to relax, to melt into her, strong arms snaking around her torso to pull her close & turning his head to bury his face in her hair.
The loss of her is unbearable.
He's got his hand to his chest again when she steps back, breathless like she'd just fucked him senseless in the middle of the street.
"I-" he stammers.
Only if you want to, she says.
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"Of course I do."
Just like that, she's gone again, with yet another piece of him that he will never get back.
When Felicia arrives at her hotel, she finds a fresh bouquet of Canna lilies, baby's breath, white Camellias, & the main focal point of the bouquet, red Chrysanthemum. Along with it is a handwritten note, scrawled in Tommy's neat hand.
Chatte Noire, Les fleurs valent mieux que les mots. Cordialment, Ta Souris.
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𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽   𝙳𝙸𝙳   𝙱𝙸𝚁𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙷𝙰𝙼   𝙱𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙽   𝚃𝙾   𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻   𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴   𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴?   Something   tugged   at   her   heartstrings   as   she   looked   around   the   now   painfully   bare   den   of   her   townhome.   Gone   were   the   colorful   pillows   and   tapestries,   gone   were   the   many   trinkets   and   paintings,   and   all   that   was   left   was   the   heaviest   bits   of   furniture   that   she   planned   on   leaving   when   the   property   sold   in   some   months.   It   had   become   a   bleak   and   austere   space,   with   all   of   her   valuables   tucked   away   in   one   of   her   boys’   many   boltholes   in   Ireland.  
The   laundress   had   asked   how   much   longer   she’d   keep   Tommy   in   the   cold,   as   his   foul   temper   was   reaching   rare   heights   and   the   laundress’   son   was   bearing   the   worst   of   it.   The   maids   looked   through   lowered   lashes,   daring   each   other   with   whispered   breaths   to   ask   Felicia   what   had   happened.   She’d   had   to   release   them   from   service   some   weeks   ago,   in   an   effort   to   keep   leaks   of   her   future   destination   from   reaching   Shelby   ears.   Especially   after   the   second   attempted   break-in.  
The   knocks   at   the   door   were   like   gunshots,   echoing   through   the   empty   residence   and   practically   rattling   her   bones.   The   sound   practically   grasped   her   around   her   throat   and   choked   the   life   out   of   her,   hands   trembling   and   skin   gray,   feet   moving   of   their   own   accord.   Some   instinct   told   her   who   would   be   on   the   other   side   of   the   door,   yet   the   logical   part   of   her   brain   couldn’t   stop   her   shaky   hands   from   undoing   all   of   the   locks   and   opening   the   door.  
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She   opened   the   door   just   a   sliver,   enough   for   a   starved   citrine   eye   to   stare   him   down,   unconsciously   drinking   him   in   like   he   was   a   balm   for   her   soul.   If   he   thought   Felicia   was   looking   him   up   and   down   for   any   other   reason,   all   the   better.   The   bitterness   in   his   voice   at   the   mention   of   the   burned   note   twisted   something   in   her   stomach,   but   she   nodded.   Fucking   nodded   and   then   slammed   the   door,   heart   hammering   in   her   chest.  
It   took   several   moments   and   several   gasping   breaths   for   her   to   gather   herself.   For   her   mind   to   start   working   again,   for   her   to   think   about   how   much   pride   Thomas   Shelby   would   have   had   to   swallow   to   come   to   her   doorstep   and   keep   his   word   after   she   hadn’t   kept   hers.   That   maybe   he   was   still,   somewhere   underneath   it   all,   still   the   warm   and   quietly   intense   man   that   had   captured   her   affections   in   the   first   place.
But   then   she   was   out   the   door,   flying   down   the   steps,   in   naught   but   her   dressing   gown   and   house   robe.   He   hadn’t   made   it   far,   bare   feet   slapping   against   concrete   as   she   caught   up   to   him   and   lunged   —   wrapping   her   arms   around   his   neck   and   burying   her   face   in   his   neck.   Cigarettes,   lemon   soap,   enough   whiskey   to   down   a   horse,   and   something   quintessentially   Tommy.   There   was   nothing   appropriate   about   this   embrace,   but   Felicia   had   left   propriety   back   in   New   York.   A   deep,   shuddering   breath   rolled   through   her,   before   she   pulled   away.   a   tiny,   watery   smile   pulling   at   unpainted   lips.  
𝑮𝒐𝒅, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒂 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕.
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❝      Thank   you,   for   coming   and   telling   me.   It   —   it   means   a   lot.  ❞   Her   words   are   whispered,   a   vulnerability   meant   for   his   ears   alone.   The   thief’s   nerves   had   been   frayed   for   weeks   and   knowing   that   .   .   .   they   were   in   town   threatened   to   shatter   what   little   composure   that   she   had   left.   But   if   Tommy   could   keep   his   word   while   knowing   that   she   hadn’t,   then   there   couldn’t   be   that   much   harm   in   entrusting   him   with   this   display   of   her   tender   insides.   ❝      If   you   maybe   want   to   talk,   I   will   be   staying   at   the   Shelbourne   in   Dublin.   O-only   if   you   want   to,   Tom.  ❞
Before   she   lost   her   nerve,   Felicia   pressed   the whisper of a   kiss   to   the   corner   of   his   mouth   and   fled   back   to   the   safety   of   her   residence   —   heart   hammering   faster   than   a   hummingbird’s   wings   as   she   shut   the   door   and   slid   down   the   length   of   it
And   just   like   that,   Tommy   Shelby   had   her   again:   𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐊, 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄, 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐑.
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sojuseoltang · 10 months ago
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Riize when they first slide in
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warnings: smut duh, afab!reader, pretty vanilla there’s nothing to worry about really, i don’t proof read anymore apparently…
Shotaro
I peg Taro as the type of person to be really thorough with foreplay so by the time he lines himself up to slide himself into you he’s so pent up (as are you) and would need it so bad that he’d fucking wholeheartedly sigh at the feeling the night had been building up to until now. There would be no time to waste either so as soon as you’d give him the okay he’d throwing himself into you so sharp and precise you’d see stars.
Eunseok
Groans but gets really embarrassed cause he’s a repressed man lowkey… so he bites his lip real hard and hopes you didn’t hear him and don’t know how weak the grip you have around him now has him. Of course you do and of course you know. However not really in the mood to egg him on right now you decide to grind your hips into his in circular motions to get him going. It works and faster than you know you’re getting fucked within and inch of your life!
Sungchan
Would genuinely moan like a slut when bottoming out and instantly search for your gaze after the initial haze has worn down. He’d hold you real close and gently run his long fingers over your skin while syncing his breathing with yours. Perhaps also the type to lay his forehead against yours ooofm.
Wonbin
The only one who would say something directly after. Wouldn’t start yapping your ear off right away don’t get me wrong- but after he’s sheathed himself inside, brows furrowing and his pretty lips slightly agape, he suddenly pulls himself up on his arms, looks deeply into your eyes and softly brushes hair that has fallen over your eyes away. He’d always murmur some slight variation of praise for how well you were taking him then leaning down to start locking your lips while gently fucking into you.
Seunghan
Also moans, but less as an involuntary exclaim and more simply to reassure you and non-verbally tell you how good you feel. The type to really wait to move until you give him a sign that you want him to start fucking you, merely feeling your naked chest heave pressed tightly against his and bask in the feeling of you clenching and unclenching around him.
Sohee
A mix of a whimper and a moan from him right as the first inch of him enters you and a strengthening grip around whatever part of you his hands find first. It’s mostly your thighs or hips but sometimes a sneaky hand travels it’s way up your body and squeezes your boobs desperately.
Anton
You’d slide down on him because you were always on top, hands situated on his broad shoulders coming up to card your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck, occasionally pulling on it a bit. The feeling of finally sliding inside made Anton’s eyes water a little bit at how good it was, as he stared up at you sweetly, a sharp inhale of air accompanying his grimace. The gloss hazing over his dark eyes worried you but he was quick to soothe your mind. Large hands lied flat against your skin as his arms wrapped tightly around you and shy shy Anton nuzzled his face into the crevice of your neck, softly mumbling a “feel’ so good” quickly followed by a “love you so much” that pulled on your heart strings.
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proofwhisky · 2 months ago
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@leighiche asked : finally kissing the person you've been pining for.
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RARELY DOES TOMMY DO ANYTHING arbitrarily. Life is short ; he doesn't fancy wasting time on trivial pursuits that serve no purpose in his life. Pining after someone is definitely something he would consider trivial, even though he knows better than to assume he has any sort of control over what ( or whom ) his heart may choose. The feelings will come and go, leave him feeling wrecked or elated or both, but in the end he has the will to choose whether or not he dwells on it. On them. On her.
Perhaps that is why fate has chosen a competent, discreet, beautiful warrior of a woman to be reported as the best nurse in the city. Likely he'd have never met Claire otherwise ; even if he had, he'd have no reason to see her again, and they would pass through each other's lives unknown, two stars destined to orbit the same sun for millennia, passing dangerously close, yet never meant to touch. Instead he'd broken into her flat with a gun, demanded treatment, and witnessed the beginnings of a supernova.
It wasn't anything special or even particularly interesting. He'd come by with a wound, she would patch him up, and he would leave. An occasional, inconsistent ritual, varying in severity. Thomas doesn't know when it changed, or what had changed, but he began finding reasons to visit her. Sometimes it was for good reason — dropping off extra medical supplies, asking permission to send men to her, or asking her to come with him to treat them otherwise. But he sprinkled in mundane visits, though carefully concealed beneath the guise of an inquiry into what new supplies she may need, whether or not anyone has tried to bother her, or some such excuse. As if she was not aware of the Blinders he'd asked to keep an eye on her, keep her safe when she was on his turf.
Normally he'd have chosen whether to abandon the feelings by now. He'd have had some kind of indication as to whether she was interested or not. Alas, there has been nothing of the sort. She's as hard to read as he is, and infinitely more stubborn.
Perhaps this is why he's suddenly become so dead-set on finding excuses to see her. Something about her seems so familiar, so safe, in a way that very few things have ever felt to Thomas Shelby.
Once more he visits her but this time it isn't disguised by any sort of weak excuse, nor any sort of legitimate need. This time it's because he needs to tell her something; something he hopes to God she hasn't already realized, and something he knows will likely guarantee the end of... whatever it is they have made here, over the course of weeks, months.
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starter from [kiss & tell prompts.] accepting !!
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proofwhisky · 1 year ago
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HE STARES AT THE CEILING IN AN effort to hide the very obvious roll of his eyes. It's quickly becoming clear that nothing he says, sincere or otherwise, will be considered to be either worthwhile or true. Thomas truly does not have the desire nor the energy to argue the point. Instead he just lets his eyes fall closed, counting the seconds between each of her movements, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to be simply exist in the present ; to not be planning endlessly for the future, not being plagued with painful memories of the past, nor consumed with fear & anxiety due to circumstances of the present.
Tommy is not the type of man to trust others blindly. He's not even the type of man to trust others at all. The mere fact that he allows himself to lie back quietly, eyes closed, abdomen exposed, at the mercy of a total stranger, is actually quite a feat. She would definitely argue with him, should he choose to point this out.
"I see," he finally replies, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling again. "Have you ever considered that, perhaps, when men refer to you as the best medical professional in Birmingham, they may actually have meant to do so ?"
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The mention of the war is met with further silence, though he does begin to realize that his uncharacteristic display of trust is likely due to her ghostly familiarity. The combat medics & nurses during the war had been some of the only people to truly gain his respect. Any person, man or woman, who would offer their own lives in an effort to aid strangers for what has proven to be no glory or spotlight of any kind, is worthy of some form of trust. Misguided or otherwise.
"Would you rather I demean your work & skill ? Or tell you I've been keeping my ear to the ground looking for the worst medical care available, leading me to your door ?"
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"I heard what you said, but when men say the best professional in town they don't mean a nurse or any woman's profession for that matter." Not unless he's been spying on her specifically, watching her when she calls the doctor she's attending a fucking moron for missing an obvious ailment because his head is too far up his own ass to see what is right before him.
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She pulls the thread tight through the skin, needle high up in the air while Claire's focus is on keeping the skin flat. "Mr. Shelby," she repeats, "I suppose that would explain the gunshot wound and most other gunshot wounds I've helped clean up outside of my services during the War."
It also explains why he came at her with a gun pointed at her head, hiding within her own home instead of preferring the far more comfortable option that is the hospital where he might have been fortunate enough to have been put under a full anesthesia as well instead of being forced to endure the full brunt of pain that is hunting for a bullet amidst tissue, organ, and blood.
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ellieslittleburrow · 8 months ago
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Summary : Your phone dies just when you lied to your father about where you are. How does he react when he finds you?
Warnings : Being chased by somebody
A/N : woo woo! First Beau fic, thanks to @dreamerbouquet 🪷🪷 alsooooooooo, i'm so angry at how my writing is so repetitive yall 😭 i hate it i need a change.
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-- Your phone dies before you get to send that last text..
Fucking hell. You just lied too-you weren't right...quite on Ousel Falls, you're still in the woods near by, limping your way out as you dragged your bicycle through the mud.
You SOMEHOW trip over something and fly forward, landing over a broken branch that brushes your skin just enough to remove it.
Fuckking hell..
Thankfully, you know your way through the vast space and so you walk...and walk, spinning around when a creaking sounds behind you..."Hello?" You say, frantically looking around. Dear god...
Another creak sounds and a figure appears from afar, seemingly running towards you. A gasp escapes your lips and you push away the bicycle before spriting forward, in spite of your aching foot. You run and hop over branches, looking over your shoulder at the person running after you.
You didn't have time to back down, you thought of your father, what he'd do-Thankfully you're only a little under a mile away from the entrance of the woods, and so your feet spring faster-and as you look back once more, you bump into something-which you push away.
"N-No." You push agaisnt it-
"I'ts me, it's me-it's dad."
"We have to go they're com-"
"Calm down, calm down honey-it's just a bunch of kids" Your dad shakes your body gently, leaning close to you to get your attention. "They ran away already, just a bunch of kids."
You take a breather, processing as your heatbeat starts slowing down...
"Come here." He says, pulling you into his chest, one hand envelopping your back and the other resting over the back of your head. "Dear god...you scared me-i thought-" He shut himself up, proceeding with a long sigh.
You pull away from him, biting your lip in an attempt to dtop your quivering chin. "I'm sorry...i-" a sob escapes your throat and you lean back into his chest- Relief has finally hit you and your muscles relaxed... "i'm sorry i didn't mean to scare you-or for my phone to die i-"
He interrupts you, pulling you away firmly. And when your eyes meet, a wave of emotions travels through his eyes. He looks worried and sad and relieved and angry, all of which overwhelm you.
"What did i say about going to the woods alone?" His voice is firm. But the tenderness in his furrowed eyebrows isn't. "What did i say about that?" He demands a response and you just don't have one.
"I-i m-i don't know-I I didn't take it that seriously-" you stop yourself, hell..you just exposed yourself-you shouldn't have.. "i'm sorry."
Your dad rubs your back "It's okay.." He rests his chin over your head, temporarily planting kisses on it.
"It's okay...i'm here now." Your dad reassures you one last time before stepping back. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" He kneels down when his attention lands on your bleeding leg.
"No, no need for that." You reassure him back, staggering back when he held your leg up a little high. You rested your hand on his shoulder, balancing yourself. "I'm okkay."
You're not-You wince as your father examines what turns out to be an open cut.
"Can you walk?"
You roll your eyes. "Dad, it's not that serious it's just a c-"
"Can you or can you not?" He cuts you off.
"I caaaan..." You groan in annoyance. It's a lie but-he's already tired enough
"Okay....let's go then. If i notice you're limping i'm carrying you back." He orders and a smile appears on your face.
"Okay" You can't fight that. "Thank you."
"I'm...i'm just glad you're okay, honey."
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I wish i could've made this one longer. But i'm too tired. Anyway, kissies yall, i hope you enjoyed reading this 🥀🥀🥀❤️❤️❤️
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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months ago
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congratulations on 300 followers!
Can i request a fic of yandere Lord Sesshomaru (Inuyasha) where reader braids flowers into his hair?
Please and thanks! Love your writing <3
i'm sorry for you waiting so long, anon!!!
Lycoris.
Yan Sesshomaru x GN Reader. 
Synopsis: A bit of pessimism is wise when dealing with the demon lord that is essentially attached to your hip.
Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping/unhealthy relationships, and mentions of violence (not against the reader).
Word Count: 700.
*~*~*~*
Your legs felt like they couldn’t stand back up however much you wanted them to. If you could have something that you and you alone wanted in your now mundane life. You don’t have a permanent home anymore; the only things attempting to resemble such a thing are places where Lord Sesshomaru tells you you can rest up. But here the grass almost felt soft and the breeze wasn’t too cold.
But here Lord Sesshomaru looks almost relaxed. 
His eyes are half closed and his hands rest on his white robes. It seems there is still some distance between them though, because there didn’t seem to be any noteworthy wrinkles across the stainless fabric.
In your hands, which would have rested too if the demon did not request them to work again, lies Lord Sesshomaru’s soon-to-be second most prized moment of his lifetime – a long braid made of his hair going down from his neck to his lower back.
“Should I… forage some flowers to decorate your hair, my lord?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead he blinks as he stares up at the cloudless sky. Slowly but surely though, he shakes his head.
“Understood.”
That is what you have been trained to say throughout the months you spend being forced to cling to Lord Sesshomaru’s side. If he was busy, he entrusted Jaken to watch over you – even though the servant wasn’t a quarter as powerful as him, he still had the capabilities to take on armies by himself.
You obey his orders just as well as Lord Sesshomaru’s, unless the two had differing viewpoints. If so, you picked Sesshomaru over him every time. After all…
After all, who is the full fledged demon who can slaughter villages in mere seconds? Who has poison in his sharp nails that has enough toxin to paralyze someone faster than they can blink or is acidic enough to dissolve their bones? Certainly not you.
So you endure most things that come with being Lord Sesshomaru’s teammate. If that role is what you are and not some poor traveler he stumbled upon in the middle of a heavy thunderstorm, that is.
He dislikes it when you say you are essentially held captive. But he still does nothing to stop you. Perhaps he simply doesn’t care? You hope so, sometimes. But sometimes you don’t; because while Lord Sesshomaru hasn’t shown any animosity towards you whatsoever, if he simply didn’t care about what you did and said that means he can easily get rid of you.
He can easily kill you.
“My lord?”
Once more, he doesn’t respond.
Is it best to ask again?
“My lord?”
The silence does nothing to change itself – Lord Sesshomaru does nothing to change his posture or to change his attitude or to change himself.
From the bushes behind you, you hear something shuffle among the blades of grass, the fallen tree leaves, and the berries that litter the thorny ground.
A familiar cackling – it’s Jaken; and most likely Rin following him from behind.
“My lord! I got as you requested, my lord!”
For the first time since the moment you four all stopped for a break, Lord Sesshomaru turned his neck around. You can swear that you heard the bones crack within.
He looks at Rin first and not the basket of flowers Jaken holds, a small smile on his lips.
“Did you have fun?” He asks, his voice as gentle as when he speaks to you when you are near asleep. 
She nods.
“I am glad.”
After a few more seconds of waiting for his lord to take the plants he foraged, Jaken places the basket next to your sat on knees. If Lord Sesshomaru wasn’t this close, you are certain that Jaken would have murmured curses under his breath.
Rin falls back asleep as soon as she leans on a tree nearby. Jaken follows her example.
“Shall we start?” Lord Sesshomaru asks. 
Hearing Rin’s snores makes you much more relaxed than before. So, you smile as you nod.
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