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yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Title: Pet Pastimes.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Dub/Con, Hybrid AU, Snow Leopard!Gojo, Puppy!Reader, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Degradation, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Reader Is Very Oblivious, and Manipulation.

“And you’re sure this is going to help?”

Satoru had been agitated when Suguru first brought you home – all dolled up in your collar, ecstatic to be led along the very same leash he always strained against. You were more obedient than most of the unruly mutts he knew, always happy enough to sit patiently and wait for your next command, but it would take more than a few weeks of passable behavior to convince Satoru dogs were anything but hyper and messy and so loud, he could hear their mindless barking from a mile away. The fact that you were supposedly here to ‘help’ him (Suguru called you a “service animal”, said most captive-born exotic hybrids had more domestic companions, but Satoru didn’t think you deserved such a pretentious title) didn’t make anything better. Satoru didn’t need help. What he needed was Suguru’s attention, but if he couldn’t have that, he’d settle for yours.

“Oh, I’m sure, puppy.” His fist tightened around the base of his cock. Suguru wasn’t home – just a quick errand, he’d claimed, it should only take a few minutes, as if that was an excuse for leaving his favorite pet and dutiful companion at home – and Satoru barely waited for the apartment door to lock before luring you into the kitchen and telling you to get on your knees while he leaned against the counter, Suguru’s forgotten phone well within reach. Currently, you were kneeling in front of him, your hands balled on your thighs and your gaze almost cross-eyed as you struggled to see what he was holding to your lips. He thought you would’ve had a little more experience, but your first owner must’ve been the sheltering type. Part of him was annoyed that he’d have to pick up the slack and teach you something so basic, but overall, he was pleased to know that it would be a long, long time before you got enough practice in to replace Satoru as Suguru’s favorite playmate. “I’ve just been feeling a little stressed out lately,” he said, drawing it out each word, giving your stupid canine brain time to process what he was saying. “This’ll really help me relax. You wanna help me out, right?”

Automatically, you nodded – your pressed frown instantly replaced with an eager smile. Your ears perked up, your concerns completely forgotten when presented with the chance to do what you’d been trained for. “Please, ‘toru,” you whined, and he fought the urge to cringe at the way Suguru’s nickname sounded coming out of your mouth. “Please let me help!”

It was almost cute, just how desperate you were to make him happy.

Almost.

He forced himself to smile back at you, using one hand to scratch at the base of your ears while the other jerked lazily over his cock. He was already hard, thankfully, and at the added stimulation, the sight of you practically drooling on yourself to get a taste of his cock, he felt himself twitch – thick pearls of arousal beginning to bead at the tip and drip onto your chin. You didn’t seem to care, to notice. He wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that his was the first cock you’d ever seen. “Can you open your mouth for me? Big n’ wide, just like I showed you.”

Like the trained dog you were, you obeyed immediately – letting your mouth fall open and looking up at him with the same bright, expectant eyes that must’ve won Suguru over, when he first picked you up. His hips wanted to buck forward, to bury him to the hilt in your newly available hole, but he held himself back, told himself he had to ease you into it no matter how little you’d done to earn his oh so generously given kindness. In the end, he settled for swiping his thumb over the flushed tip before resting it gingerly on your splayed-out tongue. It only took a second for you to stiffen, to jerk back. You didn’t cough or sputter, but your mouth snapped shut, your expression taking on a certain unease. Satoru fought the urge to bare his teeth. “Is something wrong, puppy?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just—” You closed your mouth, looking away. “It tasted weird. It was bitter, n’ stuff.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Look, if you still don’t think you can handle this, I can just tell Suguru you decided you’d rather go back to the pound—”

“Please don’t!” Your hands shot to his thighs. “I’ll be good, I promise, and I can’t— I don’t want to go back to the—”

“Then open your mouth.” After a second, you straightened, your lips parting and your jaw going slack. Still, he feigned reluctance, narrowing his eyes into a half-hearted glare as he raked his fingers through your hair and tugged half-heartedly, just hard enough to draw out a strained whimper. “And this time, don’t fuck everything up just because it ‘tastes weird’. If you do that again, I’ll have to tell Suguru you were being a bad dog.”

Your ears drooped, your tail falling slack against the tiled floor. Still, you managed not to jerk back as he slid his cock into your open mouth, slotting his tip against the velvety inside of your cheek. He could see you wince, your shoulders rising as you fought the urge to pull away, but even if you’d tried, the fingers knotted in your hair would’ve kept you rooted to the floor as he rolled his hips and thrust shallowly into the hollow of your cheek. Your tongue was smooth compared to his and wide compared to Suguru’s, and he could tell you were fighting not to move, not to explore the unknown factor trespassing inside of you. With a slight hum, he took pity on you – hazy lust having softened his previous annoyance. “It’s okay, puppy – you can lick, if you want to.” There was a moment of hesitation, then the broad flat against your tongue against the underside of his cock, tracing the shape of a prominent vein Suguru tended to favor, too. He shuddered, but told himself it was only out of reflex. You got lucky, that was all. “Mind your teeth. I’m takin’ you back to the shelter myself if you bite down.”

You tried to nod, but gave up quickly. Instead, your acknowledgment came in the form of your tongue curling around his tip, licking at the arousal dripping down his shaft, doing your best to lap at the shaft of his cock despite the awkward angle. Saliva and pre-cum pooled in the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t dare tilt your head back, didn’t dare swallow - keeping your mouth wide open as he drew back just far enough to pull out of your cheek and aim, instead, towards the back of your throat. You flinched, your dull nails scraping against his thighs, but it was easy to drown out the dull spark of pain as your tight throat fluttered and tightened around his cock, as the hand still wrapped around his base fell away in favor of joining its twin on the back of your skull and pulling you flush against his crotch. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from reacting – your body lurching against his legs as you gagged, as you tried to wretch yourself out of his hold, but he was too far gone to so much as consider letting you go. “Stupid mutt,” he mumbled, cupping the back of your skull while you fought not to suffocate on his length. “Don’t even know how to breathe right. Can’t do anything on your own, huh, can you?”

Your only response was a choked inhale, a string of incoherent gibberish half-muffled by his cock. Drool wasn’t the only thing dripping down your face, now – tears were rolling down your cheeks, fat and hot, drawing thick trails through the mess of cum and spit. Your tongue wasn’t moving, anymore, but he didn’t care – your mouth was warm and soft and fuckable enough to make up for your lack of skill. You were beating at his legs, too, your little hands made even smaller when compared to him, and for a second, he could be convinced that you were a little cute. Not cute enough to deserve as much of Suguru’s attention as you got, obviously, but cute.

His cock pulsed against the convulsing walls of your throat, and he cursed under his breath. You let out a pained whine as he drew back, pulling out of you entirely. Without his support, you threatened to buckle over, to collapse into yourself, but he held you up with one hand while the other pumped over his cock too quickly, too roughly not to tip him over the edge. It was all you could do to stare up at him with those big, watery eyes as he let out an airy moan, as he painted thick ropes of white across your messy face, as he left you stained and teary-eyed and covered with his cum.

You blinked once, then twice, but didn’t react, too out of it to complain or cry out or question why his lips quirked up into a small grin, his eyes taking on a dreamy, half-lidded sort of lull. “Good puppy,” he cooed, his heart skipping a beat as he heard your formerly stagnant tail begin to sweep lazily over the tile floor. He reached for Suguru’s phone as he went on, keeping his tone light, delicate. “Can you smile for me, too? A big, wide smile – to show how happy you are that you get to stay with me n’ Suguru.”

It took a second, but eventually, you managed a stilted nod. It was shaky, at first, more of a mangled frown than anything, but with a little love and patience, you found your footing, your lips splitting apart into a wide, beaming smile – as if you were the happiest, most pathetic puppy in the world.

God.

You were fucking adorable.

Your smile barely faltered as the camera shuttered, as Satoru’s hand fell back to your head and pet over your disheveled hair – a treat for his well-behaved mutt. He could feel you melting into his palm, but his eyes were fixed on his picture of your smiling face and, with a few taps of his thumb, Suguru’s shiny new lockscreen.

Maybe, once Suguru got a good look at your pretty face, he’d think twice before deciding to be such a neglectful owner again.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #hybrid au

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likeumeanit9497 · 1 month ago

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bet | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n loses a bet to chris and is forced to go to a party, she realizes that she can be a lot more fun than she thought she could be.

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); choking; dirty talk; overstimulation; LOTS of plot; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: okay soooo...this is long. guys i try SO HARD to make my one shots shorter but I CAN'T DO IT IM SORRY I JUST LOVE CREATING A PLOT LINE TOO MUCH!!! so i 100% get it if u don't want to read all 6,857 words of this BUT i will say the smut in this is excellent. if u do choose to read this i hope u enjoy but i love ALL of u so much <333

“So after the kid shot me with the SRT I legit only had like 20 health,” Chris’s conversation was very much one-sided as you tried to keep your focus on the study material in front of you. “I didn’t have any slurp juice or bandages, so I definitely thought I was fucked because the kid was running towards me.” You began chewing on your bottom lip as you flipped through flashcards; Chris’s voice growing much too loud for the campus library. In your periphery, you could see that Chris was no longer writing notes and instead had abandoned his pencil to begin moving his hands animatedly as he continued his story. “Oh! And I was also almost out of mats. I was trying to build but he kept shooting at me so I was running out of material quick.” You sighed softly, searching through your business law textbook to find a concept that was sure to be on the test on Monday. The same test that Chris would also be taking, though he was proving to be completely disinterested in preparing himself for it as he continued to drone on about his recent Fortnite win.

“Chris,” You began, finally turning to face him. “I’m sure it’s all very impressive, but we have a pretty big midterm on Monday, remember? That’s the whole reason we’re here.” You shoot him a smile to hopefully soften your words, but thought to yourself that if you had known he was going to be so distracting, you never would have agreed to study with him. Chris blinked at you, a cocky smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He leaned back in the library chair and rested his hands against his stomach. You didn’t know Chris very well, as typically you only really spoke to each other in class, so you couldn’t really gauge his reaction to your words. You watched him for a moment, analyzing the way that his glittery-blue eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. “But business law is so boring.” He finally replied, humour laced in his voice.

You chuckled, splitting your flashcards in half and handing a stack of them to him. “I know, trust me. But you have to study or else you’ll be fucked Monday morning.” You replied, and with a sigh he took your offered flashcards and straightened up in his chair. “Fine,” He huffed, “But I can’t stay very late, I’ve got a party to go to.” He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily as he spoke, and you stayed silent as you fought the urge to roll your eyes. Finally, you both began flipping through your respective flashcards in silence, the only distraction being the occasional brush of Chris’s arm against yours. You finally felt yourself fall into the satisfying feeling of being laser focused on the material in front of you, when Chris’s voice once again broke the silence.

“Speaking of parties, how come I never see you at any of them?” He asked, dropping his half of the flashcards onto the work table and reaching for his phone. Sighing, you barely flicked your eyes up in acknowledgement before giving him a curt response. “Not my scene.” You replied simply, hoping that answer was enough. “I don’t know if I believe that.” He replied, his voice filled with humour once again. “Hmm?” You rested your head in your hand as you continued haphazardly reading the cards. He stayed silent for a moment, and you could feel his eyes burning into you as he searched for a response. “I mean, I’ve seen plenty of your friends out.” You shrugged. “They’re more fun than I am.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” His words were finally enough to make you drop your own flashcards and turn to face him. “Chris, it’s a Friday night and I’m sitting in the library — where I plan on staying until I’m practically forced out at closing time — doing my very best to study for a midterm that I’ve been prepared to write for about two weeks. I spend so much time in this exact chair that I wouldn’t be surprised to show up one day and see a plaque with my name on it. This is my idea of fun. So how exactly do you think otherwise?” Chris smiled at you, his eyes glimmering with humorous appreciation. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Y/n.” He shrugged, his voice a low, taunting whisper. You scoffed, shocked by his presumption that he knows you more than he really does.

“In fact,” He began again, making you close your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I think I can prove it.” You turned to face him once again, shockingly intrigued by his statement. Raising one eyebrow, you encourage him to continue. “Let’s make a bet.” You tilted your head, unable to hide your curiosity. “A bet.” You repeated. He nodded his head and leaned back in his chair. “We quiz each other with what’s on these flashcards. If you win, I’ll leave the library so you can study in peace, but if I win, you come to the party with me tonight.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in his proposition. The thought of going to a party on any weekend made you uneasy, but on the Friday before a major midterm it sounded disastrous. “And what if I say I don’t want to be a part of this bet at all?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. Chris smirked and shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have to put up with me. As a matter of fact, I bet I could stay a little later, too. I have plenty of stories to share with you.” You groaned out loud as he sent you a quick wink. “I hate parties!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“What? Don’t think you can answer more questions right than me?” He asked, his teasing voice laced with humour. But his words brought you to the realization that he was right, of course you wouldn’t have to go to the party. There was no way that Chris would be able to get more of the flashcard questions that you wrote correct. So, after a few more moments of contemplation, you shrugged your shoulders and straightened up in your chair. “Fuck it, I’m in.” A smile grew on Chris’s face as he took your hand and shook it; sealing the deal.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Yes! Let’s fucking go!” Your face dropped as you watched Chris jump from his seat, fists pumping the air as he circled your work table, soaking in his win. Once he reached you, he grabbed your shoulders and shook them lightly, pulling you from your shocked disassociation. “How the fuck did that just happen?” You asked, your voice weak as you looked at the tally score you had made on a scrap piece of paper. At the start of your little competition, you had actually been pleasantly surprised to see Chris answering the first few questions right. But, as you got closer and closer to the end, and with that, your scores eventually becoming tied, you suddenly became nervous. When you got your last question wrong, you felt your stomach drop, knowing that in order for you not to lose the bet Chris would have to get his last one wrong as well. But, to your horror, his answer was perfectly correct.

“I bet you underestimated me, huh?” Chris taunted as he began packing up his backpack. Shaking your head, you pulled your exasperated body up, collecting your own study supplies. “I guess I did.” You replied sheepishly, and without even looking you could feel Chris lean towards you. “You should never underestimate me.” He whispered, causing shivers to crawl down your spine. Then, his mood suddenly shifted back to his previous giddiness as he slung his backpack onto one shoulder. “So, text me your address. I’ll pick you up around 9:00 and we’ll walk to the party together, sound good?” Chris’s voice was so sickly sweet, riddled with excitement at the expense of both your shattered ego and distaste for your sudden plans. With a huff, you begin walking with him towards the library exit. “Sounds great.” You replied, your words filled with sarcasm and resentment.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Just a second!” You called, your voice shrill and panicked, as you scrambled around your apartment trying to do up your black corset while running to answer the door. Groaning, you momentarily give up on the corset and use one hand to hold it together in the back while you opened the front door. “Sorry, I just need another minute to get this damn top on.” You muttered in frustration, skipping over any greeting with Chris standing at the door. You turned around immediately, leaving the door open for him to enter as you walked into your bedroom and stood in front of you mirror.

Chris chuckled as he stepped into your apartment and followed you into your bedroom. “Having some trouble there?” He teased, nudging his chin to your undone top. You huffed as he leaned against your bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms as he took great pleasure in watching you struggle with your top.

“This thing is fucking impossible to put on!” You exclaimed, contorting your body into unflattering positions in an attempt to see what you were doing as you worked at clipping up one of the many clasps. Your eyes fell to your clock, noticing that it was exactly 9:00. “I’m sorry Chris, are we gonna be late?” You asked as you continued to struggle with your top.

“It’s a party, Y/n,” Chris began, pushing himself off from the doorframe and walking towards you. “We can’t be ‘late’.” Without asking for permission, Chris mindlessly walked up behind you to begin helping with your fussy corset. You stilled as you felt his cold knuckles brush against your spine as his fingers expertly maneuvered the stubborn clips into place. “Thank you.” You managed to whisper, even though your mouth had suddenly grown bone dry.

Once he fastened the last clip, Chris took a moment to step back and check over his work. Nodding in approval, you watched him through the mirror as his eyes drifted along your entire outfit. “Damn. I didn’t think you even owned anything like this.” He laughed, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You took a moment of your own to look at the lacy black corset and black mini skirt covering your body, and mirrored his laugh.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been dragged to a party, you know.” Chris made a cheeky face at you through the mirror. “Dragged is a crazy word. I prefer to think of it as you finally allowing yourself to spend your Friday night like a normal 21 year old college student.” You turned away from the mirror and rolled your eyes, reaching for your purse on the bed to make sure you had everything in it that you might need tonight. Chris chuckled as you began stuffing your purse with your lip combo and perfume of the night, and suddenly you felt the heat of his body behind you as he stepped closer to you. “You know, we can blow off this party if you really don’t want to go.”

You let out a soft gasp and your eyes fluttered shut at his warm whispers in your ear. His mouth lingered just inches from your ear as he waited for a response, but confusion washed over your body like lava. After what could have possibly been too long of an unbearable silence, you broke it by laughing dryly. “Yeah yeah, but I lost the bet…remember?” While you tried to keep your voice steady, you winced at how weak your words came out. Chris laughed softly, his breath warming your skin deliciously. “Ah yes, the bet.” He replied, his voice much lower than it had been before. You shivered as you felt his thumb trail softly down your bare arm. “We better get going then.”

You took a deep breath before turning around to face him. Looking up at him through your false eyelashes, you took a moment to examine his curious expression. His eyes looked soft as they glimmered in the dim lighting of your bedroom, but there was a barely distinguishable tension in his jaw — as though he was clenching his teeth in discomfort or strain — as he stared down at you. “Okay.” You finally replied, your voice a hoarse whisper.

You suddenly felt chilled as Chris’s body moved away from yours, and were completely shocked by the wave of disappointment that crashed through your system. As Chris helped you slip on your black jacket and you both walked out of your apartment and towards the party, you couldn’t help but ask yourself: what would have happened if you took the option not to go to the party?

It was a short walk to the house party, but by the time you and Chris walked up to the front door, you were beginning to grow squirrelly with nerves. It had been a long time since you had gone to a party, and you were sure that you had never been at this particular house before. As if he was reading your mind, Chris nudged your shoulder softly. “Hey, it’ll be fun,” You turned to look at him, giving him a weak smile. He leaned in closer to your ear, as if he was preparing to tell you a secret. “This is actually my place, so you’re already tight with the host.” You looked at him, slightly shocked that the party was at his home yet he chose to meet you at your place first, but it did calm your nerves slightly.

That changed as soon as Chris opened the front door. Immediately, you were met by a throng of unfamiliar people scattered throughout the house, loud music blaring, and scattered beer bottles and solo cups along the floor. After shooting you a reassuring look, Chris led you up the stairs to the main part of his home; filled with even more people and even more mess. A handful of people walked up to Chris in greeting, and you felt like an invader of the party; even though Chris made sure to introduce you to everyone he was talking to.

Just when you were about to ask Chris to show you where the washroom was — in which you planned to spend the rest of this horrifying night in hiding — you heard your name get called over the incessant chatter. Turning your head in the direction of the living room, you noticed three of your best friends on the couch, smiling and waving their hands in your direction. “You bitch! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming out?”

You felt the weight of humiliation and awkwardness lift off of you, and you shot them a warm smile before turning to Chris. Noticing your friends, he tilted his head in their direction and smiled kindly down at you. “Go ahead, I’ll find you later.” With a childish giggle, you squeezed his arm as a gentle sign of appreciation before quickly scampering off to your friends on the couch.

𓆩♡𓆪

After giving your friends a detailed explanation of how you ended up at the party — and after drinking more than your fair share of beer — you had melted into a state of bliss that was nearly unrecognizable to you. Never before had you truly enjoyed yourself at a party, yet at that very moment, it felt as though you were morphing into a completely different person; one much more confident and certainly more relaxed.That definitely had to do with the liquor burning through your veins, and maybe even the fact that a certain pair of blue eyes had been planted on you the whole night.

Laughing at something one of your friends’ said, your eyes traveled across the room and locked onto Chris’s from his place in the kitchen. You watched as a smirk pulled at the corner of his pink lips before he curled two fingers in the air; subtly calling you over. “I’ll be back in a bit.” You said to your friends before pulling your body — heavy from the alcohol — off of the couch and walking over to Chris at the kitchen counter.

He watched you, his head tilted ever so slightly as if he was studying you, as you approached him. You realized in that moment just how warm your cheeks felt as you finally reached him, standing just inches from his leaning frame. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like you’re having a bit of fun over there.” He said, his voice laced with amusement. You made an attempt at rolling your eyes. “Alcohol can make anything fun.” You replied, feeling too stubborn to admit that your night was going much better than you had expected. Chris straightened up and turned to the counter where he grabbed a bottle of tequila and began filling up two shot glasses. “Well in that case, I think you should take a shot with me.”

You smiled and stayed silent as you watched him pour the liquid into the small glasses. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile as his long eyelashes framed his slightly reddened eyes, and his teeth bit down on his lower lip in concentration. Even with your blurred vision, you could see the faint sprinkle of freckles along the soft slope of his nose, and appreciated the soft flush of baby pink — no doubt a gift granted to you by his consumption of alcohol — along his cheeks.

You snapped out of it once he turned back to face you, holding out a shot — noticeably less full than the one in his other hand — for you to grab. You obliged, and held it up in a cheers with him before you both tilted your heads back, wincing at the familiar burn as the tequila slid down your throat. “Lime.” You cried out, your voice hoarse from the liquor, and rather quickly Chris grabbed a pre-cut lime wedge out of a bowl and brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the slice; sucking the sour juice from it while looking up at Chris with a scrunched up face as you ignored the strange flutter in your stomach — a flutter that was most definitely not from the alcohol.

You pulled your eyes away from Chris as you plucked the lime out of your mouth. Hearing him chuckle, you looked back up at him. “Another?” He asked, holding up the bottle of Casa Migos. Regrettably, you nodded your head. “But do you have any salt?” You asked, to which Chris responded by immediately reaching over into a cabinet to his right. As he searched through the cabinet, your eyes fell onto his exposed neck typically hidden by his messy curls — his skin slightly glistening.

As he turned back to face you, a shaker of salt in his hand, you felt your mood suddenly shift into one filled with desire. Forcing a smile onto your face, you managed a small thank you. Noticing your change in mood, Chris’s eyes seemed to scan across your features for a moment in silence. “Lick the back of your hand.” He ordered, his voice low and slightly deeper than before. Instinctually, you brought your hand up to your mouth. But just as you were about to run your hand against your tongue, you were suddenly overcome with an urge — and with it, a wave of uncharacteristic confidence.

“Actually, can I do something?” You asked, looking up at Chris through your eyelashes. Your eyes fixed on his neck, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Sure.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. As the word left his mouth, you took the salt shaker from his hand and sprinkled some into your own open palm. “Fill the shot glasses.” You told him, and he immediately obliged. Looking back up at his face — his gorgeous features laced with confusion — you took one deep breath before moving closer to him, your bodies now so close that with each breath your chest brushed against his. His eyes were filled with shock at your sudden proximity, but he stayed perfectly still as he waited to see what you were going to do.

Slowly, so slowly, you brought your mouth to his neck before running your tongue along his creamy skin. As you did, a short gasp fell from his lips and you felt his body stiffen against you. Sticking to efficiency, you quickly pulled your tongue away before lacing your free hand through his curls; using your grip to tilt his head so that you could sprinkle the grains of salt against his wet skin. Pulling back, you caught a glimpse of Chris’s face — cheeks even more flushed and his eyes momentarily shut in bliss — before he looked down at you with uncertainty.

Untangling your hand from his hair, you reached for your shot on the counter and held it up. “Cheers.” You whispered, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Chris blinked a few times before picking up his own shot and clinking it against yours. His eyes stayed glued to yours as you both took your shots, and before the tequila had a chance to hit you with its after shock, you wrapped your lips around the patch of salt along his neck. Even in the loud room, you could swear you heard a soft moan fall from Chris lips, and you felt his pulse quicken against your mouth as you took your time licking away every grain of salt.

It wasn’t long before all of the salt had melted against your tongue, but still you continued to gently nibble and suck the delicate skin on his neck. As you did, Chris sucked in a sharp breath before gripping onto your ass tightly and pulling you against him. You released your own soft moan at the feeling of his large hand digging into your plush skin, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Jesus, Y/n.” Chris groaned. Against your front, you began to feel a fast-growing bulge press against you. Your mouth travelled tantalizingly slow against his skin, until you reached his ear. Grabbing his earlobe between your teeth and gently tugging on the soft skin, you whispered. “You should never underestimate me, either.”

At that, you heard an impressed chuckle. You pulled away from his skin and looked up at him, just inches from his soft lips. So close that you could feel his warm breath against your face, you began to feel intoxicated — not by the tequila, but by him. His hand stayed firmly planted on your ass, the tips of his fingers just barely whispering against your burning heat. The two of you seemed to find yourselves in some sort of stare down — neither of you moving closer to or away from the other — trying to gauge what the other wanted.

Finally, your eyes dropped to his glistening lips, and as if they had a magnetic pull you felt yourself inch closer and closer to them. Noticing this, Chris began pulling forward too, until you could feel his desire burning against your skin. Just as your lips brushed against his, you gasped for air before panting out: “Bedroom.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chris grabbed onto your hand and began leading you to a set of stairs descending into the basement. You could hear your own pulse over the music as it began growing more distant when you both reached the bottom of the stairs. Once you reached a locked door, Chris began pounding against it urgently. “Get the fuck out of my room!” He called through the door, and as you heard the sound of panicked shuffling on the other side he turned to face you; his eyes exuding pure desire as he ran his thumb pad against your lower lip.

You jumped as the door suddenly burst open and watched as two undone people slipped past you both; actively avoiding eye contact. As soon as they passed you, Chris grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into the dimly lit room. Without even a moment to adjust to your surroundings, you gasped as Chris slammed you against the closed door and engulfed your open mouth with his own. You moaned at the feeling of his lips moulding to yours, bringing with them a relief to the tension that had been building between you all night.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you welcomed it with a gasp. You relished in the feeling of his tongue completely and utterly dominating not just your mouth, but your whole body, as you felt yourself weaken in between the wooden door and his towering frame. Your head began to spin at the unfamiliar yet intoxicating taste of his lips, just as you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

His eyes drilled into yours for a moment, as though he was checking to make sure you were okay with what he was about to do. When you knit your brows together and began sucking on your bottom lip — desperate for his touch — he shot you a cocky smirk before drawing his attention to what was in his direct line of sight. His hands slid from your waist down to your thighs, where he began massaging them slowly while simultaneously dropping wet kisses against your burning skin.

Reacting to this, you inadvertently spread your legs further apart. As you did, you felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he continued running his tongue against your inner thighs. While continuing to drive you crazy with his mouth, he brought his hands up to the zipper of your skirt. As he fiddled with with the metal, he spoke against your skin. “You want this?” A soft moan fell from your lips, eliciting a chuckle from his. “I need to hear you say it, baby.” He urged, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly. “Y-yes.” You finally managed to reply, gasping for air as you did. At your response, Chris gently nibbled at the sensitive skin on your thigh, just below the end of your skirt, as he began sliding the black material down your legs. “Good girl.” He praised just as he let the skirt drop to your ankles.

Now with just your sheer panties between his warm mouth and the place you needed it the most, you began squirming as he took a moment to admire your barely-covered heat. He brought his hands up from their place on your thighs to the soft wisp of hair along your bikini line. You shivered in pleasure from his touch so close to where you were aching for him, and watched as his eyes seemed to grow enlivened by his view. “Didn’t expect you to be wearing something like this under that skirt.” He uttered, his voice thick with desire as he toyed with the sheer material. “What did I say about underestimating me?” You replied through your breathlessness.

With that, Chris looked up at you through his thick eyelashes, a smirk cemented into his face, before hooking his thumbs onto either side of your sheer thong and dragging it excruciatingly slow down your legs; until you were suddenly completely bare in front of him. As your pussy radiated desire just inches from his face, his smirk was replaced by one of agony; as if he was suddenly desperate to bury himself into its warmth. He grabbed both of your thighs, firmly pulling them further apart, before he ran his tongue slowly along your dripping slit; his eyes drilling into you as he did. You watched as a pool of your slippery arousal gathered on his tongue, and only once he swallowed your juices did his eyes flutter closed; officially losing himself.

You cried out as soon as his warm mouth wrapped around your pulsing clit, creating an infrangible suction that caused your hips to involuntarily buck into him. Chris moaned against your bundle of nerves, sheer enjoyment plastered to his softened expression, as you laced your thin fingers through his curly hair. “Jesus.” You moaned out incoherently, unable to form a genuine thought as Chris’s tongue worked you through shock waves of pleasure. He groaned against your pussy in response, his face completely buried in between your wet folds.

You gasped as you felt his finger begin to circle your hole, teasing your entrance as it begged him for more. Noticing your flexing walls and dripping arousal, Chris slipped two hooked fingers into your spongey cunt; pumping them into you with vigour as his mouth continued to work against your throbbing clit. The room filled with the wet sounds of Chris’s fingers plunging into you, and you felt that familiar tension in your lower stomach begin to grow nearly unbearable. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding your slick heat against his eager mouth.

“F-fuck C-Chris, I — FUCK!” You struggled to speak as you began to lose control of your body, writhing under his hold on you as though you were trying to run from your impending orgasm. In response, Chris’s fingers began to pump into you even quicker, drawing a long moan from your lips. “It’s okay baby,” He reassured you against your clit, his voice an octave lower than usual, “Make a mess all over me.” Your back arched against the door, his encouraging words drawing you closer to your orgasm. Chris used his free hand to grab your thigh, lifting it off the ground and resting it on his shoulder; granting him access to pump his thick fingers even deeper into you.

As he pounded his fingers into your g-spot relentlessly, your body momentarily stilled as you were hit with white-hot pleasure. “Fuck!” You cried out as the waves began crashing into you, causing your body to now begin to convulse uncontrollably. Your nails dug into his scalp as you struggled to stay upright throughout your earth-shattering orgasm. Once he felt your walls begin to pulse around his fingers, he quickly slid them out; allowing you to ride through your high as his mouth began ardently drinking up your warm juices.

As soon as he noticed your moans begin to calm down, he lifted you off of your shaky legs and carried you to the bed. As he walked, he effortlessly undid the many clips on the back of your corset; freeing your full tits and wrapping his wet, swollen lips around one. As he swirled his tongue around your pebbled nipple, he gently laid you down along the edge of his large bed. With a pop he pulled his mouth off of your tit before heedlessly unbuckling his pants and slipping them down his legs, before doing the same with his boxers. You watched in awe as his cock sprung free, feeling that insatiable need grow even stronger deep inside of you.

“Need to feel that soaked fucking pussy wrapped around my cock so fucking bad.” Chris murmured, collecting the fast-growing arousal from your slit on his fingers before using the slippery fluid to stroke his member a few times. Leaning down, he drew your lips to his in a desperate and sloppy kiss, and as he did you felt the girth of his tip pressing incessantly against your dripping entrance. Groaning in anticipation, you writhed under his grip and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Unable to hold back, Chris released a guttural moan against your cheek as he suddenly slammed every inch of himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as his cock pumped into you hard and fast without giving you a moment to adjust to his size. His incessant groans and sharp breathing let you know how good your pussy felt as it enveloped his swollen shaft. “C-Chris y-you’re hu-uge!” You managed to cry out, your eyes bulging from your head as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his size.

At that, Chris lifted his head from your cheek and dropped his eyes to watch your swollen pussy as his cock continued to pound into it. He brought a hand to your lower stomach, pressing down so that you could see the bulge that his cock was imprinting into it. With an arrogant smile on his lips, he looked back up to your fucked-out face. “You’re takin’ it so good, baby.” His words made your head spin, and you released a loud moan as you gripped onto his arms. Chris looked back down at where your pussy was swallowing his cock, and you watched his jaw go slack as he seemed to relish in the magnificent pleasure that the sight brought him.

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He groaned out, his voice low as though he was speaking to himself rather than you. Still, his obsession drew another wave of pleasure through your body, and you desperately wanted to see what he was seeing. With shaky limbs, you managed to lift your shoulders up, resting the weight of your upper body on your elbows. You gasped as you watched Chris’s thick cock disappear inside of you again and again; pulling ribbons of your arousal out on each thrust and spreading them along your inner thighs and his lower stomach.

Chris’s eyes lifted up to yours, where they stayed as he continued to pound into you. Suddenly, he brought a veiny hand to your throat; gently squeezing the sides as he bit on his lower lip. “You see how fuckin’ pretty your pussy looks milking my cock?” You let your eyes drop back to the place where your bodies met, entranced by the sight of your bright pink lips wrapping around his length. “If I died inside of you right now, I would die a happy fucking man.” He leaned forward and melted his soft lips to yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spun.

Chris’s pace began to slow; becoming much sloppier. Deep grunts fell from his lips as he dropped his forehead onto your collarbone where he placed wet, open mouthed kisses as he plunged up into your g-spot. “Fuuuuck.” He hissed, his breath warm against your clammy skin as he seemed to get caught up in how good he was feeling. “Chris.” You breathed, your brain turning to mush as you felt every inch of his cock slip through your walls at this new, excruciatingly slow, pace.

Suddenly, his movements completely stilled as he leaned over you and grabbed a pillow from the top of his bed. He straightened himself up on top of you, grabbing your waist and lifting it effortlessly as he slid the pillow under your lower back. Confused, you look up at him with knitted brows; your chest rising and falling. Noticing your un-asked question, Chris spoke. “I’m gonna cum in a minute,” He said, slowly beginning to slide in and out of you again. “And when I do, I wanna feel your pussy convulsing around me.”

With that, Chris pressed one hand firmly onto your lower stomach while using two fingers to spread apart the protective hood above your clit. With his other hand, he brought his thumb to your exposed clit and began rubbing it gently; relishing in the way your body flexed erotically each time he did. Your moans slipped past your lips in helpless squeaks, feeling overstimulated by Chris’s direct contact with your bundle of nerves in unison with the added pressure in your gut caused by his hand pressing against it. “G-god!” You cried out, grabbing onto both of Chris’s wrists as he continued working your clit and fucking you senseless; unsure of whether you were trying to pull his hands away or keep them exactly where they were.

Chris’s eyes stayed glued to your swollen clit, but his breathing grew more and more ragged as he quickly approached his orgasm. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you as he struggled to hold himself back. “Fuck,” He growled, his cheeks even more flushed than before, “Cum for me baby, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence, a clear sign that he was on the edge of losing control. You felt your own walls begin to crash down, sending you closer and closer to what was sure to be an earth-shattering orgasm. “P-please — a-almost there.” You whined, your back arching off of the bed as you began to feel as though you were being lit on fire.

Chris dropped his forehead onto your chest, being sure to keep his movements the same as he released soft moans against your skin. “Come on sweetheart.” He grunted as he thrusted up into you, running dangerously low on will-power, “Let me feel you cum for me.” The gritty desperation in his voice was enough to finally push you over the edge. As soon as he felt that first intense pulse reverberate through your walls, he finally allowed himself to lose all control. His hips began pounding into you incessantly as your legs tightened around his waist. Deep, brutish moans fell from his lips on each thrust as his thumb continued to rub against your clit.

“Jesus fuck!” You cried out, feeling the pressure that had been building in your stomach release as you squirted against Chris’s pelvis. As you did, Chris’s thrusts suddenly stilled, and while his thumb toyed with your clit, he released a guttural moan before you felt his warm fluid spill into your quivering pussy. His swollen cock pulsed in between your walls, and you moaned in unison with him as he began to rock himself in and out of you slowly; using your tight pussy to milk himself dry.

Once both you and him came back down to earth, Chris collapsed into your chest; laying there for a moment as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your hands fell onto Chris’s curly hair, which you ran your fingers through slowly as he drew small circles on your hip bone; both of you helping the other get back to their sober minds.

After a short while, Chris planted an affectionate kiss to your chest before lifting himself up. He pulled out of you slowly, his glazed eyes watching as his cum dripped out of you. You watched as he reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his discarded t-shirt. After shooting you a charming smile, he gently grabbed your right thigh, spreading it slightly before using the soft material of the t-shirt to delicately wipe away the mess he had made of you. “You sore?” He asked, his voice gentle as he gazed up at you. You nodded, looking up at him with a smile as you leaned back on your elbows. “Nothing I can’t handle.” You added, sticking your tongue out cheekily.

“I am gonna need your help with the corset again before we head back upstairs, though.” You sighed, gesturing to the discarded pile of lace and buckles on the floor. Chris’s eyes followed to where you pointed. “Or…” He began, tugging at the edge of his comforter, “We could just stay down here?” Your eyes drifted up to his face, and you were met with a sheepish, tired smile. Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you crawled to the top of the bed and curled under the warm blanket. “Thank God.” You muttered, earning another smile from Chris before he followed you into the sheets.

He pulled you into his arms, and you closed your eyes at the comforting feeling of the warmth emanating from his naked body. Exhaustion began to immediately overtake you, and you felt yourself grow heavy in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back up?” You asked, worried that he might just feel obligated to be there with you, “You’re gonna miss out on all the fun.” Your voice was now thick with sleep. Chris chuckled, squeezing you gently in his arms. “All the fun is right here. I told you, Y/n, my sixth sense never fails me.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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theonottsbxtch · 2 months ago

Text

HONEST | LN4

an: this is dedicated to the anon who noticed my bio and saw i loved honest by the nbhd, it inspired me to write something based off of it <3

wc: 3.5k

summary: lando and his girlfriend keep going back to each other despite her numerous attempts to get him to open up, what happens when she finally has enough.

The night was alive with the hum of possibility, the city draped in neon light and the buzz of distant traffic. She sat cross-legged on the floor of her cramped university apartment, a half-finished canvas propped up against the wall, colors bleeding together in a way that made her frown. Her fingers were smudged with paint, her hair twisted into a loose knot that threatened to unravel with every frustrated exhale.

Her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a notification: “Lando Norris finishes P2 at Hungary Grand Prix.”

She hesitated before swiping it away. The world might have celebrated second place, but she knew him better. For Lando, second was nothing more than a public failure.

The knock at her door came minutes later, sharp and deliberate, like him. She didn’t need to check who it was.

When she opened it, there he stood, still in the McLaren jacket with the logo stitched across his chest. His dark hair clung to his forehead, and his jaw was set in that stubborn line she knew too well. He smelled like engine oil and exhaustion, and she couldn’t decide if the ache in her chest was for him or the weight he always carried.

“You’re here,” she said, the words soft, more observation than greeting.

“I needed to see you.” His voice was low, barely audible over the sound of her radiator ticking in the background.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating? Champagne showers and all that?” she asked, stepping aside to let him in.

“I didn’t win.”

She closed the door behind him, watching as he moved to her window, his silhouette framed by the city lights outside. He didn’t sit, didn’t even take off his jacket. He just stood there, the tension radiating from him like heat from a burning track.

“You came in second,” she said carefully, crossing her arms as she leaned against the door. “That’s not nothing.”

“It’s not first,” he snapped, his voice sharper than he meant. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I just—”

“You don’t have to explain,” she interrupted, her tone softer now. She was getting used to this.

But he shook his head, turning to face her. “I do. You don’t get it. The team made me and I know I shouldn’t have kicked up a fuss but I’ve been working my ass off. Oscar doesn’t deserve this bullshit but I’m so close—”

“Lando,” she said, cutting him off again. “You’ve done this before. You’ll do it again. But it’s never about the race, is it?”

He stared at her, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to find the words.

“It’s not enough,” he finally said. “No matter what I do, I’m never enough.”

Her throat tightened at the familiar refrain. She’d heard it before—in the way he avoided eye contact when he talked about his expectations, in the way he deflected her compliments like they were a nuisance. She stepped closer, her arms unfolding as she reached for his hand.

“It’s enough for me,” she said softly.

For a moment, she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. His hand was cold, trembling slightly against hers. He looked at her like he wanted to believe her, like he wanted her words to be true.

“You don’t get it,” he said again, quieter this time. “I don’t know how to be okay with less. I don’t know how to stop chasing.”

“Then stop chasing,” she said, her voice firm. “Just… stay. For once, just stay.”

He closed his eyes, the weight of the words hanging between them. When he opened them again, she saw the cracks in his armour, the vulnerability he fought so hard to hide.

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.

The words stung, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Then figure it out. I can’t do it for you, Lando. I can’t keep filling in the spaces you leave blank.”

The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain, until he finally nodded, a small, reluctant gesture.

She didn’t know if it meant he would stay, or if it was just another moment in the long cycle of him crashing into her life and pulling away again. But for now, it was enough.

“Come on,” she said, leading him to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll make tea.”

And as she moved to the kitchen, he sank into the cushions, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He watched her from across the room, and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to breathe.

The tea kettle whistled, a sharp note cutting through the quiet tension. She poured the hot water into two mismatched mugs, her movements slow, deliberate. Every sound—the clink of the spoon, the soft rush of liquid—felt amplified in the silence that stretched between them.

Lando sat hunched forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. His head was bowed like he was waiting for something to break, or maybe trying to hold it all together.

When she placed a mug in front of him, he looked up, offering her the smallest nod of thanks. She sat beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. The couch was old, the cushions sagging, forcing them closer than either might have chosen in that moment.

“I used to think art was about perfection,” she said, staring into her tea. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability, like she wasn’t sure where the words would take her.

He turned his head toward her, waiting.

“When I started studying, I wanted to control every detail, every brushstroke,” she continued. “I thought if I just worked hard enough, it would all come together the way I imagined. But no matter how much I tried, it always felt… wrong. Like something was missing.”

He didn’t reply, but his gaze stayed on her, heavy with unspoken questions.

“I realised it wasn’t about getting it perfect. It was about letting the imperfections in, letting the chaos fill the spaces. That’s what makes it real. That’s what makes it art.”

Lando exhaled, a slow, almost shaky breath. “You think I should just let chaos into my life?”

“I think it’s already there,” she said gently. “You’re just pretending it isn’t.”

He laughed, a short, bitter sound. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not. But what you’re doing isn’t easy either, is it? Beating yourself up every time you don’t hit perfection? Trying to control everything, even things you can’t?”

Lando stared into his tea, the steam curling upward like a ghost of his thoughts. “When you’re on the track,” he began, his voice low, “everything depends on precision. One mistake, one miscalculation, and it’s over. You don’t just lose the race—you crash. You burn.”

She didn’t interrupt, letting him work through the words that seemed to take more effort than any lap he’d ever driven.

“That’s what my life is. Corners and braking zones and split-second decisions. If I let chaos in…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You’re not on the track right now,” she said softly.

His head turned sharply toward her, his expression unreadable.

“I know you don’t think you can stop,” she continued, her eyes meeting his. “But you’re not just a driver, Lando. You’re a person. And people aren’t built to live like that all the time.”

He looked at her for a long moment, the walls in his eyes flickering, wavering. Then he leaned back against the couch, his shoulders slumping as if he’d finally allowed himself to feel the weight of it all.

“You make it sound like I have a choice,” he murmured.

“You do,” she said. “But you have to be brave enough to take it.”

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “Bravery. That’s funny, coming from you.”

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the one who made us go on break last time,” he said, the words sharper than he intended. “You couldn’t stick around when things got hard.”

She flinched, the accusation landing like a slap. But she didn’t look away. “I didn’t leave because it was hard. I left because you wouldn’t let me in. You let me see pieces of you, but never the whole thing. And I can’t keep guessing at who you are.”

The air between them felt thick, charged with everything they’d never said.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly.

She reached for his hand, her fingers brushing his knuckles. “Then try. That’s all I’ve ever asked.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, his hand turned, his fingers intertwining with hers.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.

Her lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “You never lost me, Lando. But I can’t be the one holding us together anymore.”

He nodded, a tiny, almost imperceptible motion. It wasn’t a promise, not yet. But it was something.

The next race that went to shit for him was Baku.

The door to her London apartment creaked open, and Lando stepped inside, his bag slung over one shoulder. His face was a map of exhaustion—dark circles under his eyes, his jawline shadowed with stubble. The scent of jet fuel and rubber seemed to cling to him, a remnant of the race he’d just returned from.

She was sitting at her desk, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face as she worked on an assignment. The sound of the door closing made her glance over her shoulder. Her expression softened for a moment, then grew guarded, like she was bracing for impact.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice neutral.

“I’m back,” he echoed. He dropped his bag in the corner and rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers lingering at his temples. “How’s your week been?”

“Fine,” she said, turning back to her screen. “Yours?”

He let out a dry laugh as he collapsed onto the couch. “Do you want the press-conference version or the real one?”

She swiveled her chair to face him fully, her arms crossed. “The real one, obviously.”

He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if the words were caught in his throat. Finally, he shrugged. “It was fine. Finished P4. Made a stupid mistake in qualifying, couldn’t recover. Typical.”

She frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

She stood, crossing the room to sit on the armchair across from him. “I don’t know, Lando. Maybe something real? Maybe talk to me like I’m more than just an audience for your race recap?”

He looked at her, startled by the sharpness in her tone. “I am talking to you.”

“No, you’re not,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You’re telling me what you think I want to hear. You’ve been doing that since the moment we got back together.”

He sat up straighter, his brows furrowing. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair?” she repeated, incredulous. “Lando, we’ve been stuck in the same pattern for months. You come back, you barely say anything real, and then you leave again. We took a break because you said you’d try, and nothing has changed.”

“That’s not true,” he argued, his voice rising defensively.

“Then tell me what’s true,” she countered. “Tell me what’s actually going on in your head, because I don’t know anymore.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

“See?” she said, throwing her hands up. “This is what I mean. I’m sitting here, begging you to let me in, and you’re just… shutting down. Again.”

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, it is,” she said, her frustration boiling over. “It’s as simple as you deciding whether or not you actually want me in your life. Because I can’t keep sacrificing myself for you if you’re not willing to meet me halfway.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to respond. But he didn’t. He just stared at the floor, his hands clasped tightly together.

Her voice softened, trembling slightly. “We need to break up. For real this time.”

His head snapped up, panic flashing across his face. “No. Please, don’t do this. I can do better, I promise. Just—”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I’ve heard that before. I can’t keep waiting for you to figure this out while I’m breaking myself apart trying to hold us together.”

“Please,” he said again, his voice desperate.

But then something shifted. His shoulders sagged, the fight leaving him all at once. He let out a long, shaky breath and finally met her eyes.

“Okay,” he said, the word soft but resolute.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. She had expected resistance, pleading, anger—but not this.

“Okay?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “You’re right. I don’t know how to give you what you need. And I don’t think I ever will.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of his words cutting deeper than any argument ever could.

“I’m sorry,” he added, standing and grabbing his bag. He hesitated at the door, his hand on the knob. “I hope… I hope you find someone who can.”

And just like that, he was gone.

She sat there for a long time, staring at the closed door, the echo of his and her words ringing in her ears. She had gotten what she’d asked for, but it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like the quiet hollow left after something breaks.

The weeks after he walked out passed in a blur of quiet moments and restless nights. Her apartment felt bigger, somehow emptier, though his presence had always been fleeting. At first, she moved through the days mechanically: attending lectures, working on assignments, and scrolling mindlessly through her phone when she couldn’t concentrate.

That was how she saw the first video.

It popped up on her social media feed one evening—a clip of Lando during a post-race interview. He stood with the same calm precision he always carried, his dark eyes serious as he talked about tire degradation and strategy.

But she noticed the way his jaw tightened when the reporter mentioned the championship battle. The way he rubbed the back of his neck when he thought no one was watching. The things only she would have picked up on.

She swiped away from the video quickly, her heart hammering in her chest.

For days after, more videos surfaced. Clips of him on the podium, the national anthem playing in the background. Snippets of races where he pushed through the pack with surgical precision. Even candid moments, fans catching him as he signed autographs with a tight, practiced smile.

She didn’t go looking for them, but they seemed to find her anyway.

Part of her wanted to stop watching. Every video felt like a small knife twisting in her chest. But another part of her—the part that still woke up some mornings thinking about the weight of his hand in hers—couldn’t look away.

And then there was the guilt. The nagging voice in her head that whispered she could have done more, been more, stayed longer. That maybe if she’d held on just a little tighter, he wouldn’t have slipped away.

But the rational part of her knew better. She couldn’t keep sacrificing herself for someone who wouldn’t let her in. She couldn’t keep living in the spaces he refused to fill.

Throwing herself into her work became her salvation. She spent hours in her studio, her fingers smudged with paint and charcoal, her mind racing with ideas.

Her project started as a simple concept: inner thoughts, the things we hide from the world. But the more she worked, the more it grew, expanding into something bigger than anything she’d ever created.

The centerpiece was a massive installation—an abstract figure built from fragmented mirrors, wires, and twisted metal. Each shard reflected something different: colors that didn’t match, faces distorted in impossible ways. Surrounding the figure were interactive panels where viewers could write their own hidden thoughts, projected onto the walls in real-time.

It wasn’t just art; it was a conversation. A reflection of the unspoken truths that lived in everyone.

Her professor was floored when she presented it during a critique. “This is… remarkable,” he said, circling the model she’d built as he spoke. “It’s raw, vulnerable. It demands engagement.”

She flushed under the praise but nodded, unsure what to say.

“You need to exhibit this,” the professor continued. “There’s an upcoming gallery in Monte Carlo—prestigious, international attendance. I’ll submit your work.”

Monte Carlo.

Her stomach tightened at the name. She thought of glitzy hotels, sharp corners, and the sound of engines echoing through narrow streets. Of Lando, and the apartment she’d only been to a few times.

But she nodded again. “Okay,” she said.

And that was how she found herself in Monaco.

The gallery hummed with conversation, the din blending with the soft background music that played over hidden speakers. She was standing near the wine table, engaged in a lively discussion with an older couple who were gushing about her work.

“It’s so… visceral,” the woman said, gesturing animatedly with her glass of champagne. “It feels like you’ve captured something universal but deeply personal at the same time. Like it’s speaking directly to me.”

Her lips curved into a polite smile. “That’s exactly what I hoped for,” she said.

As she explained the inspiration behind the installation, the doors to the gallery opened again, and Lando walked in.

He wore a crisp suit, his usual casual edge replaced by something sharper, more formal. The team required his attendance. His hair was nicely curled, and his presence was magnetic, commanding subtle glances from attendees who didn’t recognise him but knew he must be someone important.

Lando’s gaze swept the room, searching, but her back was to him. She was too engrossed in her conversation to notice the way his shoulders stiffened when he saw the installation—or the way his expression softened when he realised it was hers.

He approached the centerpiece quietly, his hands in his pockets as he took it all in. The mirrored figure seemed to hold his gaze, fragments of his reflection staring back at him. His attention moved to the interactive panels, where dozens of anonymous confessions lit up the walls.

“I’m afraid of being alone forever.”“I miss the person I was before them.”“I don’t know how to move on.”

Lando stood there for a long moment, his chest tightening as he read the words. Finally, he stepped closer to one of the blank panels and picked up the stylus.

He hesitated, the pen hovering just above the screen, before he began to write:

"I wish I could have been honest.”

He paused, then added something small, something only she would understand:

4♡

It was the way he’d signed every note he’d left for her. Scrawled on Post-its stuck to the bathroom mirror. On napkins tucked into her lunch bag. On the inside cover of a sketchbook he’d bought her. It had always been their little secret, a shorthand for everything he couldn’t say out loud.

Lando stepped back, his throat tight. He cast one last glance around the room, his eyes lingering on her as she laughed softly at something the older man said. Then he turned and walked out, unnoticed.

The crowd thinned as the night wore on, and the gallery grew quieter. She stood alone now, gazing at her installation with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. The panels were almost completely filled with confessions, their glowing words painting the walls in a kaleidoscope of emotion.

She walked up to the nearest panel, scrolling through the entries. Some were poignant, others painfully raw. But one stopped her in her tracks.

"I wish I could have been honest.”

Her breath hitched as her eyes darted to the small signature below it.

4♡

Her hand flew to her mouth, a tremor running through her as she stared at the words. For a moment, she thought she might have imagined it. But no—there it was, unmistakable.

A wave of emotions crashed over her: shock, sadness, and a deep, aching tenderness that she had tried so hard to bury.

She sank onto a nearby bench, tears slipping down her cheeks.

She thought of him standing here, reading her work, writing those words. The quiet acknowledgment of everything left unsaid between them. And the small, stubborn piece of him that still lingered in her world, no matter how far apart they were.

She wiped her tears, but they kept coming, her chest heaving as the weight of it all settled over her.

For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to feel the full depth of her loss. But alongside the grief was something else—a fragile, flickering sense of closure.

He had been here. He had seen her, her work, her heart laid bare. And he had left her a piece of himself, as he always had.

It wasn’t enough to fix what had broken. But maybe, just maybe, it was enough to let her begin to heal.

the end.

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fawnhart · 13 days ago

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drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

#works!⟡࿔*:･ﾟ #bambi!reader✦ •ִ ᜔.#drew starkey #aesthetic #drew starkey imagine #rafe #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey x reader #drew x reader

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shomatoriashi · 1 month ago

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01/05/25; 10:07pm

xavier x fem.reader / mc.reader

obligatory tags: @milkandstarlight

notes: this is dedicated to all of you xavier girlies out there, with his misty silhouette card as my sole inspiration (⺣◡⺣)♡

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

{ so if i get jealous, i can’t help it | i want every bit of you, i guess i’m selfish. }

you saw a flash of anger across xavier’s eyes the moment he turns away from you, focusing on one of your plants when he grabs the gardening shears. the snipping sounds of those slender blades cutting through the branches echoes throughout the room. you could sense the wave of possession that courses through xavier’s veins, and you knew that you had to stop him.

swallowing thickly, you use the tip of your heels to reach him, managing to give his backside a gentle kick. he lets out a gasp, facing you with a darkened gaze. “don’t take your frustrations out on the plants. they’re innocent.”

he remains silent, turning around to completely face you as he gently grips at your knee, “where should i put it then?”

with your lips pursed, you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, forcing xavier to hold you against him. despite the faint pink hue seen on his cheeks, he manages to tell you, “don’t use the same tricks twice. it loses its effectiveness.”

a cheshire cat grin spreads across your features when you lean in to whisper in his ear, “then what are you suggesting?”

he was unable to resist you, leaning closer to you before admitting, “i don’t know.”

knowing all too well that he was throwing a tantrum, you lean forward and purposely bite down against his ear, earning yet another breathless gasp from him. “if that’s the case, then two can play at that game.”

you hear xavier click his tongue before leading you against your windows, “didn’t you say i shouldn’t take it out on the plants? what exactly did i do wrong?”

you met his gaze, allowing your hands to gently frame at his face, “are you pretending to be mad, xavier?”

he suddenly presses your front against the cold window, causing goosebumps to erupt all across your skin. his large hand was felt resting against your chin, pressing lingering kisses against you while admitting, “i’ve only pretended not to be.”

you tremble before telling him, “i thought that you were the type to calm down quickly…” yet your words die against your throat the moment you felt xavier grinding against your backside, making you feel something hard poking you. “that depends… on who i’m with.” he breathes in your scent, still grinding on you while admitting, “it also depends on how i want to calm myself down.”

you fought against the desire that threatens to course through you, attempting to keep a clear mind as you spoke to him, “xavier…! something’s off about you today…”

“i agree… it’s very strange.” with a pant, you felt him continue to slowly grind into you, “but it looks like… i won’t be easily satisfied tonight.”

with those final words, he carries you toward your couch, settling you against the leather seat while keeping a large hand on your kneecap. the warmth exuding from the palm of his hand felt on your skin causes a shudder to course through you when you tried to stop him, “xavier, we can’t do this here-“

“don’t move.” his voice takes on a low tone, your protests falling on deaf ears when he spreads your legs for him. embarrassment causes your cheeks to heat up in response to his actions, and you felt your mouth go dry when he manages to pull the waistband of your panties down, allowing the flimsy material to hang precariously on your right ankle before kneeling in front of you.

the skirt of your dress hides his face from you, yet the moment you felt his thick finger dip into your slick heat, you were given little choice but to cling to your seat as xavier wastes no time devouring you. pumping his finger in and out of your core, you felt the way he presses his lips over your cunt, tongue tracing at the borders of your center before diving right in to drink up all you had to offer. the squelching sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you echoes throughout your living room, making you cry out when he suddenly pinches at your hardened clit.

in mere seconds, you spill into his mouth, your thighs trapping xavier against you as you felt the way his groans causes pleasurable vibrations to course through you. you were in a daze now, dimly aware of the shifting of fabric before feeling something hard pressing against you. your eyes look down, witnessing xavier’s cock for a brief moment before it disappears from within the fabric of your dress.

your breath hitches, feeling xavier push up the fabric of your dress, allowing you to see the way his cock was ready to impale you. with large hands gripping at the back of your thighs, xavier brings your body closer to him before sliding his cock within your slick walls.

you both toss your head back at the sudden intrusion, with xavier holding your body against him with one hand while the other was gripping at the armrest of the sofa. he moves with quick pounds against your aching cunt, the red hot sensation of his cock stroking your walls becoming too much to bear as you cling to him.

running on pure desire alone, your legs wrapped themselves around xavier’s waist when he fucks himself over and over again into you, purposely brushing his hardened length against your clit each time he meets your hips. you cling to him with a desperation, meeting his thrusts with your own as you felt the pleasure threaten to explode-

and with another, particularly hard thrust, you felt the entirety of your release rushing out of you, earning a grunt from xavier as he witnesses your clear fluids sliding down the length of his cock.

with a broken grunt of your name, xavier falls back against the floor, taking you with him while still connected to you. your hands automatically brace themselves against his hard chest, glistening with sweat as he lay with his shirt open. “ride me, starlight, ride me… since only you can make this endless envy disappear…”

with your breathing hitched from the honesty of his words, you continue to bounce up and down his cock. even when you were sobbing from the sheer pleasure of it all, you still rode him, chasing your next high while believing that you would never get enough of him…

{ … }

dawn was close to breaking through the windows of your bedroom when xavier finally carries you back to bed. your naked bodies were both damp from the activities the night before, and you felt pleasantly sore as xavier lays you in bed.

laying beside you, you give him a tired smile and trace at his handsome features with your fingertips. “xavier, why do you think i’ll leave you?” his gaze softens while leaning into the palm of your hand, “you won’t?”

“of course not.” you giggle, gently ruffling at his hair. this succeeds in making your boyfriend smile when he takes a hold of your hand, pressing a kiss against each fingertip. when he finishes, a wistful smile lands his expression, “do you think i’m childish?”

“yes.” you admit to xavier with a giggle, earning a pout from him, “but i can’t help it.”

“i know.” you tell him with clear affection heard in your voice, moving closer to him before beginning your reassurances for him,

“only one neighbor can open the lock to my apartment. his name is xavier.”

“in terms of people, only one of them is held as my favorite. his name is xavier.”

“and there’s only one person whom i’ll never leave, and his name is xavier.”

you complete your speech with a giggle, framing at xavier’s face once more, “does this make me childish, too?”

you bask in his bright smile before feeling the way his powerful arms wrap around your frame, bringing you oh so much closer to him as you felt him whisper in your ear,

“as long as i’m like you, that’s enough. childish, brave, and loved- i want to be just like you.”

end notes: i’m so happy at how this turned out, and despite not being an xavier girlie, i hope i did his story justice 🥹

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#xavier smut #xavier fluff #xavier x you #xavier x mc #xavier x reader #love and deepspace #lads smut #lnds smut #l&ds smut #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader

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blueicequeen19 · 4 months ago

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Drunken State pt. 2

Warnings: creampie, jealousy, mentions of cheating, somno, oral

Part One

You’ve managed to dodge Pope and his innocent advances for almost two days after a night of explosive orgasms with a drunk JJ. It was a simple mistake. Just two friends with similar needs.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again. And again.

It hadn’t even been 48 hours yet and JJ Maybank had been inside you more often than not. You’d find yourself in a room with all your friends and JJ would give you that look that made your blood heat and pussy pulse.

Now you found yourself cornered in the bathroom again, his cock hammering into you from your spot on the counter while your friends were all outside for a bonfire.

“I’m close.” You moaned into his ear, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as he grunted his pleasure.

“I know. You’re squeezing me so fuckin tight.” JJ groaned, his hands squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise.

“When are you gonna let me taste you?” You whisper, digging your nails into his back as he bares his teeth.

“Shit, don’t say shit like that.” JJ hisses, his body growing taunt like he’s trying to hold back.

“You don’t want to cum down my throat, J?” You purr, tightening your legs around his waist and squeezing hard. JJ moans loudly, his orgasm ripped from him as his eyes roll back. You smile in satisfaction even if it meant you didn’t have time to get yours. The power you had over him was intoxicating. This game had become too much fun.

“Fuck.” JJ growls, cupping your jaw and bringing you in for a hard kiss. “Stop making me cum without you.” JJ snags your bottom lip between his teeth, his cock still pulsing inside you.

“Never.”

Minutes later, you’re cleaning up in the bathroom while JJ rejoins the party. You’ve just finished fixing your hair when you hear raised voices in the living room.

“I’ve been waiting outside for you. What were you doing?” Your body bristles at the sound of JJ’s exs voice. Why was she here?

“You cheated on me so what does it matter?” JJ fires back, dread filling you at the direction this could turn. JJ was impulsive and unpredictable when cornered.

“We didn’t break up so if you’re screwing some other bitch then you’re cheating on me.” Oh fuck.

“Seems only fair, right?”

“Yo, what’s going on?” You froze at the sound of Pope’s voice, the front door swinging closed behind him. “Where’s Y/N?” Pope asked, your stomach dropping to the floor.

“Y/N? Is that who you’re fucking? That bitch over me?” This couldn’t be happening.

“What is she talking about?” Pope demands back.

“Don’t listen to her, Pope. She’s only happy if she’s running her mouth.” JJ snaps.

“I don’t remember hearing you ever complain about my mouth.” His ex fire back, satisfaction in her voice. Jealousy weighed you down, threatening to drown you as you fought to remain hidden.

“Get out!” JJ shouted, making you jump from the harshness in his voice. There was a long pause followed by the slamming of the front door. Only then did you release the breath you’d been holding.

“Where is Y/N?” Pope asks, the accusation clear in his voice.

“She said she was tired and went to her room.” There was another long pause that made you wish to see what was silently passing between them. You didn’t want to hurt Pope.

“We’re about to put the fire out for the night. Are you about to go to bed too?” Pope asked.

“Yea, I’m beat.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in the morning.” The front door opened and shut, giving you the all clear to slip from the bathroom. You cracked the door open to see JJ downing a beer in the kitchen, his eyes finding yours almost instantly.

“This is done until we come clean to Pope.” You said, flinching when he threw the beer bottle in the trash and raked a hand through his hair.

“Fine. Whatever.” JJ snapped, following Pope outside as you turned to find your bedroom.

Your heart hurt but it couldn’t be helped. You didn’t want to risk hurting anyone or your relationship with the rest of the group. A night alone would be good for the both of you.

Your eyes fluttered open on a soft moan as heat spread between your legs and left your clit throbbing. It took a moment to fully wake up before you felt the hands on your thighs and the tongue between your lips. Rings dug into your skin and you gasped, arching your back off the bed. It was impossible to fight the pleasure after denying yourself earlier. His skilled tongue was dragging you towards something explosive and your body was begging for it.

“Don’t scream.” JJ growled, before sucking hard on your clit and burying two fingers inside your pussy. You slapped a hand over your mouth as your body bowed off the bed and you came hard. His tight grip on your thighs kept you grounded as you rode out the high and were reduced to a shaking, withering mess.

“JJ.” You panted as he threw the blanket off and crawled up your body. His lips claimed yours in a wet kiss as he forced you to taste yourself. The head of his cock nudged your clit over and over again through the thin layer of his boxers, leaving a mess across the fabric.

“I can’t stay away from you.” JJ admitted, tugging on your peaked nipples through your sleep shirt.

“Get on the floor.” You urged, pushing at his chest and following him down onto your discarded blanket. JJ kicked off his boxers and sat up as you straddling his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You sank down on him with ease, your pulsing wet walls welcoming him as he moaned in your ear.

JJ yanked your shirt off to claim one of your nipples in his mouth as you started to ride him.

“Oh, fuck.” JJ groaned around your flesh, his hands on your hips urging you faster.

“You’re reckless.” You growl against his lips, suddenly irritated that he couldn’t listen for even one night. His teeth smacked yours as you bounced, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Is that all?” JJ smirked against your lips, thrusting up into you.

“Impulsive.” Thrust.

“What else?” Thrust.

“Irritating.” Thrust.

“You don’t feel irritated.” Another hard thrust had your jaw clenching as you fought off the impending pleasure.

“J.” You bit out as his mouth moved to your neck, biting and licking at the sensitive skin.

“You feel ready to cum. Like you’re holding back because you want to be mad at me.” JJ taunted, digging his fingers into your hips as he forced you to bounce harder. “Have you ever been able to stay mad at me?” JJ whispered harshly, holding you tighter as he rolled his hips and hit something even deeper inside you. You bit down on his shoulder as you came, meeting every roll of his hips with your own while he grunted in your ear.

“That’s my girl.” JJ slapped your ass before rolling you both over. A pillow was stuffed under your ass and your legs thrown over his shoulder just as he began to hammer into you. The floor was uncomfortable but you couldn’t risk waking your friends with the headboard slapping against the wall. And watching JJ sweat just did something to you.

“Oh, fuck.” You rasped, his cock reaching an even deeper spot. Your fingers found your nipples, pulling and twisting the hardened peaks while pleasure shot up your spine. JJ couldn’t tear his eyes away, blue eyes nearly black with desire as you played with yourself.

“You’re so fucking hot like this.” JJ growled, his hands digging into your thighs as he pounded your pussy. You were both so close to release but not ready to stop.

“Get on your hands and knees.” JJ whispered harshly, giving you no warning before he was handling you into position. Your knees ended up between his on the pillow as he entered you again. His pace was torturously slow, making you whine with each slow drag of his cock.

“JJ.. please..” You reached back, digging your nails into his hip to urge him on but he only chuckled.

“So impatient. Do you need to cum?” JJ taunted, pulling you up by your hair and wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you upright. You groaned pathetically, his cock so deep it hurt but he wouldn’t move. “I thought you were mad at me?” JJ whispers, turning your head so his lips can tease yours.

“J, please. Make me cum.” You beg, nails biting into his arms as you roll your hips, desperate for the pleasure he’s withholding. Your tongue comes out to lick the seam of his lips before taking his bottom one between your teeth.

“I’ll do anything you want. I just need your cock. Make me feel good, J.” His nostrils flare at the same time you feel his cock pulse inside you.

When his arms tighten around your trembling body, you nearly groan in satisfaction until you hear an unexpected sound. The sound of your door creaking open and a startled gasp. Your stomach falls before you both jerk your heads around to face the intruder.

Pope.

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #blueicequeen19 #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #tw unprotected sex #jj maybank

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thesecondhandwoman · 2 months ago

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BETWEEN SILK AND STEAL

Mel x f!reader x Sevika

Synopsis: After a night with your two girlfriends, Mel and Sevika, you get to experience another morning or love and care with light banter.

The first sensation you registered was warmth. It wasn’t the warmth of blankets or the sun creeping through silk curtains — it was the kind that radiated from bare skin pressed against yours. One side of you was wrapped in firm muscle, all sharp edges and strength. The other was decadence itself: smooth, soft skin that smelled of honeyed oils and wealth.

You blinked your eyes open slowly, vision greeted by tousled golden curls. Mel Medarda lay on your left, one hand tucked under her cheek, her lashes long and resting gently against her skin. She slept like a painting — too perfect to be real, her lips slightly parted in serene stillness.

On your right, Sevika snored softly, one arm slung possessively over your waist. Her calloused fingers pressed into your side, anchoring you as if you’d disappear if she let go. Her jawline looked even sharper in the gentle morning glow, a slight frown etched into her features as if she were annoyed by the very concept of “rest.”

Two absolute beauties at your side.

If heaven existed, you had found it.

You tried to shift, but the weight of Sevika’s arm pinned you. You wiggled, but her grip only tightened, pulling you flush against her chest.

“Don’t,” she grumbled, voice thick with sleep. Her eyes didn’t even open. “Stay still, doll.”

Heat rushed to your face at the nickname. You didn’t know if it was endearing or possessive, but it sent a shiver down your spine nonetheless.

“Let her breathe, Sevika,” Mel murmured, her voice like silk dragging across bare skin. Her eyes remained closed, but her lips curled into a smile. “We wouldn’t want her to suffocate after last night.”

Your heart did a full flip. She knew exactly what she was doing — the smugness in her voice was unmistakable.

“Tch, she’s fine,” Sevika muttered, but she begrudgingly loosened her grip. Her fingers still brushed along your side as if reminding you who had you first.

You sighed in relief, stretching your arms above your head. Your muscles ached in that deliciously earned way. Every movement tugged at the phantom echoes of last night. Memories of hands, mouths, and tangled sheets flashed in your mind, your cheeks growing hotter by the second.

Yeah, that happened.

“Someone’s thinking too hard,” Mel teased, propping herself up on one elbow. She reached out, fingers trailing from your shoulder to your wrist. Her touch was featherlight, deliberate. “Regret something, darling?”

The way she purred that last word was borderline criminal.

You turned your face into the pillow to hide the grin that fought its way to your lips. “No, not even a little...”

“Good answer.” Her nails grazed the back of your neck, sending goosebumps trailing down your spine. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “We don’t like regrets here.”

Sevika snorted, half amused, half awake. “Speak for yourself, princess. I’ve got plenty.”

Mel arched a brow at her. “A list, I’m sure. But I doubt she’s on it.”

Sevika’s gaze finally cracked open. Her steel-gray eyes shifted toward you, sharp and assessing, but there was something softer there too. She grunted, clearly too tired to argue. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Yet?” you gasped, mock-offended. “I thought I was perfect.”

“Perfect is temporary,” Sevika smirked, eyes already closing again. “You’re a mess. But you’re our mess now, so quit whining.”

Your heart thudded hard against your ribcage. The weight of that statement lingered longer than expected, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Careful, Sev,” Mel said, her golden eyes meeting yours with that knowing look she always wore. “Say things like that, and she might think you’re catching feelings.”

Sevika’s response was a sharp, dismissive snort, but the arm around your waist tightened just a little. You felt the contradiction in her. She didn’t say anything more, and that silence spoke louder than any words.

Time slipped away lazily, like honey poured from a spoon. The three of you lingered in bed longer than any of you probably should have. For Mel, mornings were typically scheduled to the second, and Sevika, well, she was usually the first to leave. But this morning was different.

Mel eventually rose with an exaggerated sigh. She tossed the sheets off with an elegance you’d never master, slipping out of bed in one fluid movement. Her silk robe was draped over a chair, and she pulled it around her shoulders, tying it at the waist with a grace that made you feel under-dressed despite being completely naked.

“Breakfast?” she offered, glancing over her shoulder as she walked toward the door. Her gaze lingered on you longer than necessary, her smile slow and knowing. “Or shall I leave you two to… entertain yourselves?”

You felt Sevika shift behind you. Her breath tickled the back of your neck, and her voice was low in your ear. “We could stay here a little longer, baby.” Her lips brushed against the nape of your neck, just enough to make you shiver.

“Don’t start without me,” Mel warned, not even looking back as she exited the room. Her tone was playful, but something about it was also serious. You didn’t doubt for a second that she’d be back sooner than expected.

The door clicked shut.

Sevika huffed a laugh into your hair. “Bossy, isn’t she?”

“The line of Medardas usually are,” you murmured, tilting your head to glance back at her. Her face was barely an inch away from yours, eyes sharp but drowsy, her hair disheveled from sleep.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “but you like it.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Her fingers brushed the side of your face, rough but careful, like she was afraid you’d break if she applied too much pressure. You leaned into her touch, letting yourself have the softness of the moment. It wasn’t often Sevika let herself be like this. Her guard was always up, always ready to fight, but here, she was simply here.

Her fingers traced along your jaw, her eyes focused on you with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t before. “Did you mean it?” she asked quietly.

“Mean what?”

“Not regretting it.” Her gaze didn’t waver, and suddenly, you felt like you were standing on the edge of something.

You reached up, placing your hand on top of hers. “I meant it,” you said, and you meant it with your whole chest. “No regrets.”

Something in her face shifted. It wasn’t much, just the tiniest crease in her brow relaxing, but you knew her well enough by now to know what that meant.

“Good,” she said, like that one word was the answer to everything.

Her lips were on yours a second later. Not rough, not rushed — slow, deliberate, like she was taking her time tasting every part of you. Her hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking along your cheek, her warmth seeping into you until you could feel it in your chest.

The kiss deepened, and you gasped against her mouth as she pulled you tighter against her. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a soft whimper that you immediately regretted because—

Click.

The door opened, and Mel’s voice floated in, a touch too amused. “I knew you wouldn’t wait.”

Sevika pulled back just enough to smirk against your lips, her eyes still half-lidded. “Took you long enough, princess.”

“Patience, darling,” Mel replied, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She approached with a tray of fruit, cheese, and bread, the kind of breakfast that looked too pretty to eat. Her eyes met yours, warm and sharp all at once.

“Hungry?” she asked, setting the tray down beside you. Her gaze flickered to Sevika, and her smile curled at the edges. “For food, I mean.”

Your stomach growled in response, and all three of you burst into laughter.

Yeah. No regrets.

A/N: I have seen so much about Melvika that I hard to write something about it (and now I’m wondering if I should do something with Sevika and Ambessa or Sevika, Mel, and Lest with f!reader).

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connorsui · 4 months ago

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“Believing in love”

Sylus x fem! reader

Synopsis: Amidst the dazzling lights of a futuristic city, you confront your fears of love

Genre/warnings: Angst with a Happy Ending, soft sylus, reader who doesn't believe in the concept of love, emotional trauma, vulnerability, discussions of betrayal, past trauma for reader, sylus just wants to love you for you and nothing else, hurt/Comfort, emotional healing, small fluff, slow burn, hints of trust issues

Note: okaaayyyyyyy I went overboard this was originally going to be a short imagine ..like maybe five hundred words or less with the concept: “I don't believe in love” and “I'll show you what it can be” – I wasn't planning on this to be a full fledged one shot…but hey …I ain't gonna complain any further my brain is just doing its job ✨️

w.c: 1.8K

The city hums beneath you, a symphony of noise and light, but your mind is far from the chaos below. You keep your gaze fixed on the skyline, as if it holds the answers you can’t seem to find. Beside you, Sylus’ breath is ragged, his desperation barely concealed as he clings to your wrist. You can feel the tremble in his fingers despite the firmness of his grip, as though he’s trying to hold you together—or perhaps, to keep you from drifting away.

“Why do you always attempt to leave me? What is it that I’m doing wrong?” His voice is soft, almost pleading, a rare break in his usually stoic demeanor. He’s searching your face for something—anything—but you remain still, letting the weight of his words hang in the air.

He clutches you tighter, not forcefully, but in a way that tells you he’s afraid you might vanish into the night, just like the countless times before. The emptiness in your silence gnaws at him, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything.

“Sweetheart…” His voice cracks, the word nearly lost in the wind. “I’m not one to beg, but if it means I’ll get an answer from you, then I’ll lower myself.”

You glance down as you hear the rustle of fabric, your eyes catching the sight of Sylus sinking to one knee. A proud man, reduced to pleading. The weight of his devotion presses down on you, suffocating in ways you hadn’t expected.

“I wish for an answer. Any answer from you.”

But still, you say nothing. The flood of emotions you’ve buried for so long stirs within you, threatening to overwhelm. The city lights blur in your vision, turning into a kaleidoscope of glowing orbs, and suddenly, your throat tightens. You want to speak, but the words are tangled in your chest, caught in the rising tide of emotion.

“It’s… it’s not that I wish to ignore everything you’ve done,” you start, your voice shaky and weak, barely audible over the rushing wind. “It doesn’t mean I hate you, or that you're not trying hard enough. I care for you. I do.”

Your breath hitches, your heart pounding against your ribs, as tears, hot and unrelenting, streak down your face.

“I want to love you, Sylus. I want to be near you every day, to feel what it means to love someone, to truly understand it. But I…” Your voice cracks, the word foreign on your tongue. Your chest tightens, the familiar sting of betrayal flashing in your mind, the memories you’ve fought so hard to suppress now rushing back in vivid detail.

Before you can break down any further, Sylus pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you like a shield from the world. His warmth seeps into you, steadying you amidst the storm inside.

“Shhh… it’s alright. Come here.”

His voice is soothing, and for a moment, you let yourself relax in his hold. You breathe out slowly, though each exhale feels labored. Your chest rises and falls as you try to calm the sobs threatening to tear through you. His hands gently cradle your face as he wipes the tears away with the pad of his thumb, his touch delicate but firm, as if assuring you he won’t let go.

“I’m scared…” Your words spill out between quiet gasps, your chest heaving as you finally let out the weight you’ve carried for so long. “I’m so scared, Sylus. I’ve loved before, countless times… and neither time was it ever given back.”

Sylus' embrace tightens, his chin resting atop your head as he rocks you gently. His voice, though calm, carries a raw edge of determination, as though he’s willing his words into reality.

“I can show you what it can be,” he whispers against your ear. “I’ll show you what love should feel like, what it should be… No one in this entire city is more deserving of that than you.”

His hand rests against your back, moving in slow, soothing circles.

“I just need you to believe in me. let me show you that I can give you the love you’ve been searching for.”

You close your eyes, the weight of his words settling into your chest, pushing against the wall you’ve built around your heart. For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, the quiet murmur of the city below, and the cold wind that carries the scent of the night sky. Moonlight bathes the two of you, casting silver across the rooftop as if the world has stilled for this one moment.

And though the fear still lingers at the edges of your mind, something shifts within you. Perhaps it’s the warmth of his touch, or the sincerity in his voice. But for the first time, you allow yourself to believe in the possibility.

Yet he keeps himself steady, his grip tightens—not out of force, but from desperation, as if he’s holding on to more than just your body. He’s holding on to the very idea of you, of the two of you.

“I don’t need you to say you love me, not now, not in this hour, not tomorrow” he murmurs into your hair. “I just need you to trust that I will. That I already do.”

His words pierce through the walls you’ve spent so long building. The fortress around your heart cracks, letting in the first tendrils of warmth you’ve felt in ages. You try to push him away, afraid of being vulnerable, but his hold remains firm—not possessive, just secure. Safe.

“But Sylus—” you whisper between breaths, your voice breaking.

“I’m not like you. I don’t know how to—how to do this. Every time… I let someone in, they ripped pieces out of me until there was nothing left to give...so, even if you say you love me… what can I give you..when there's nothing? ”

He pulls back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze. His red eyes soften, the intensity that so often burned with dominance now a smoldering ember of understanding.

“You think there’s nothing left to give,” he murmurs, “but every broken piece of you is still yours to offer. And I’ll take them, even if they don’t fit together perfectly. I don’t care if you feel shattered. I’ll hold onto every fragment until you’re ready to trust me with the rest.”

Your chest heaves as you fight for control over your emotions, but the more you resist, the harder it becomes. Sylus’s steady gaze undoes you. How could someone like him—so powerful, so untouchable—look at you as if you were the most fragile thing in the universe?

“ — and yet there will be days you think I don’t know fear?” he continues, his voice low, barely above a whisper. “You think I don’t wonder every day if I’m enough for you? That I’ll lose you before you ever truly belonged to me?”

The vulnerability in his words makes you flinch. You’ve seen Sylus command entire fleets, face enemies without a trace of fear, and yet here he is, baring himself before you. It’s too much—too raw. But it’s also exactly what you needed to hear.

“I’m not a perfect man, and I won’t pretend I am," he adds. "But I will never stop trying for you. Not for a second or an hour or a day of my life"

His thumb brushes the last of your tears away, and for a moment, all that exists is the sound of the wind whipping around you, the lights of the city flickering beneath your feet, and the quiet hum of your hearts—one racing, the other steady.

You finally exhale, the weight of your emotions loosening its grip just enough for you to speak again.

“What if I’m broken?” you choke out. “What if there’s nothing left that is untouched for you to love?”

Sylus’s lips quirk into a sad but tender smile.

“It doesn't matter if any part of you is left …untouched ” he says softly. “When I mean I would love ..you ..I mean you .. Every part of you…that I have fallen in love with”

His words settle into you like a balm, soothing wounds you didn’t realize were still bleeding. You’ve spent so long believing that love was something to fear, something that would eventually turn on you and leave you empty. But Sylus is showing you a different kind of love—one that doesn’t demand perfection but offers patience. One that doesn’t expect you to be whole but promises to stay, even when you’re not.

Your body, tense and guarded for so long, begins to relax in his arms. You close your eyes and lean into him fully for the first time, allowing yourself to be held—not because you’re weak, but because, for once, you don’t have to be strong.

You stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped up in each other as the city continues its ceaseless rhythm below. The cold air bites at your skin, but neither of you care. Not when the warmth of Sylus’s embrace keeps the rest of the world at bay.

Eventually, you speak again, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than before.

“I don’t know how to let go” you admit.

Sylus shifts slightly, enough to look into your eyes again.

“And, you don’t have to,” he replies. “I’m not asking you to forget anything that has happened to you then or anything that has happened to you in the months or years away. I just wish for you to allow me to be part of your future.”

Your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away this time. Instead, you let the weight of his words sink in. He isn’t asking for grand promises or declarations. He’s asking for a chance—a chance to be the person you turn to, the one who stays when others would leave.

“Would you allow me?” Sylus asks softly, almost pleading.

“Can you let me in?”

There’s a long pause as the world around you holds its breath. Then, finally, you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I’ll try.”

And with that, the dam inside you breaks. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you can learn to love again.

Sylus would show you how much you mean to him ..✨️

#suiwrites🍒#sylus x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace x mc #sylus x you #sylus x mc #sylus x y/n #lads sylus x reader #lads x you #lnds sylus x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lnds sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus

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shuafiles · 3 months ago

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lie to girls [l.jn] preview

SUMMARY | it was hard watching jeno struggle with his relationship, but it was even harder when he ran to you for comfort every time. especially when you, his long-time best friend, have been in love with him for the longest time. but when jeno starts lying about where he’s going and who he’s with, you realize the biggest lie might be the one you’re telling yourself—that he’ll ever choose you. or girls will cry, and girls will lie, and girls will lose their goddamn minds for you.

PAIRING | nonidol!jeno x afab!reader

CONTENT | university au, angst, best friends to ?, aespa members included, cheating, swearing, drinking, smut (not everything is included in the teaser yet but just so you know whats in store)

WORDS | 855 (just this teaser)

A/N | sneak peek of what im working on! im planning on making this a looong one but i was too excited so i decided to share without spoiling too much. let me know if you like it! total wc is still unknown and the release date will hopefully be before november ends. also its my birthday today so heres my gift to you :D

“hey.” jeno greeted you, standing at your front door, which only meant one thing. they fought again.

you pushed the door wider, letting him inside. he looked like a mess, his shoulders slumped, dark bags around his eyes, hair disheveled. even from afar, you could tell he was going through something. his phone was in his hand, checking for notifications, but he let out a huge sigh when the home screen was empty.

“do i even want to know?” you prodded, eyes watching him as he plopped down on the couch. his head tilting back on the headrest, head filled with thoughts.

“you know how she is.” jeno mumbled, rubbing his face with his hands. “said she needed some space.”

unfortunately, i do know how she is. jeno’s girlfriend, karina. they’ve been together since first year of college when jeno met her at some random party. they were the kind of couple on campus that, at first glance, seemed perfect, but you knew all too well what kind of chaos haunted them in private. you were too familiar with how she behaved with jeno; most of the time, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

jeno didn’t even have to say anything when you saw him at your front door. you have grown accustomed to this pattern: the same heartache, apologies, and cycle of hope and disappointment. and every time it occurred, jeno ended up here—at your door, at your couch, sulking.

you wanted nothing more than to scold jeno for letting himself get run over by her, but you kept your lips sealed. deciding that giving him comfort and support was probably what he needed right now.

“again, huh?” you sat down on the opposite side of him, tucking your legs beneath you.

“i don’t even know what that means, y/n.” jeno sighed, running his hand through his hair. he lifted his head to face you, gaze soft as he held eye contact with you. “one minute, everything’s perfect, and we’re fine, but suddenly, i’ve apparently done something wrong, and she won't even tell me.” his voice cracked, hopelessness evident in his tone. it pained you to see him like this. how many times is he going to let her do this to him?

“well, did you do something wrong?” you asked, but you knew jeno too well, he wouldn’t do anything to sabotage his relationship. sure, he has made mistakes in the past, but he was a good person, a good friend, and a good lover, you suppose.

jeno stayed silent for a moment, recalling if he had done something to make his girlfriend upset. “i–no, at least i don’t think so.” he shook his head, “i’ve just been busy with classes, but i always make time for her. and everything we’re together, i always try to make it special. you know?”

you nodded along to his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. you have heard this story countless times, so you could probably recite it to him. it wasn’t unusual for karina to act like this; she’d get upset over something vague, and then jeno would beat himself up for it, but he’d still bend over backward to get her back.

“maybe she’s just going through something?” you said, trying to think of what to say to ease his mind.

you and karina were acquaintances at best. it’s not like you didn’t try to be her friend, but something about her attitude just seems so off-putting to you. you weren’t entirely sure if karina was fond of you either. of course, you never told jeno any of these. you knew he wouldn’t listen, not when it comes to her. he loves her. he’d return to her every time, like a moth to a flame. and you’d be there, picking up the pieces when he got burned.

“i wish she’d just tell me what’s on her mind instead of leaving me wondering what i did wrong.” his face twisted into frustration with a mix of confusion.

“jen, you know i can’t help you if you don’t tell her what you’re feeling.” this time, you couldn’t hold back. “you’re supposed to tell her these, not me.”

jeno flinched at your words, somehow unsatisfied with your advice. “yeah… you’re right.”

you watched his expression, his eyebrows furrowed while he was deep in thought. “i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted to hear.” you hesitated, knowing you were treading dangerous waters. “i just think… you deserve someone who actually appreciates you.”

jeno stayed silent, processing your words as if he hadn’t told himself that a million times. but for some stupid reason, he couldn’t keep it in his head. he looked down at his phone, tapping the screen once more, but to his disappointment, there was still nothing. “i know you’re just looking out for me, y/n. but… i just can’t give up on her. not yet.”

and just like that, you could feel him slipping away, back into her orbit, leaving you alone with all the things you couldn’t say, wondering when he would run back to you again.

#tell me your thoughts please <3 #lee jeno #nct #nct dream #jeno imagines #nct imagines #jeno x reader #nct x reader #jeno angst #nct angst #jeno smut #nct smut

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muxshwriting · 2 months ago

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coming home

Max Verstappen x reader

summary: max makes the decision no one thought he actually would. and he made the decision for you || word count: 950 || masterlist

You’re screaming as Max crosses the line. Yes, it’s P5 but it’s a championship secured. The team around you erupts as their dreams come true. There was a huge sense of anticipation as you ran through the pit lane towards parc ferme and towards him. You watch as he jumps out of the car with a weight visibly off his shoulders. He runs towards you, not a glance at anyone else.

“I’m so proud of you!” You’re shouting over the noise of the crowd but Max only hears you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you Schatz. For a second I didn’t think I would.”

“You made it. You won.”

He tears his helmet off, crashing his lips into yours and he finds himself home. The rest of the night is a blur as you watch Max receive his well earned celebrations for a season hard-fought. There’s nothing that could sour yours or his mood as the night burns on and Max goes from interview to interview, waiting for the time he can drink so much he forgets.

“Max, congratulations on the championship win. Would you like to speak about how much this means to you after this year?”

Max rubs a hand through his hair and adjusts his hat, a nervous tick he’d always had as he brought the microphone to his jaw. “Yeah. This championship means a lot because we weren’t sure it was going to happen earlier in the season. Of course it wouldn’t have been possible without my amazing team working so hard to make the car as good as it could be. It’s the people around us who push us to be the best versions of ourselves.”

Max can’t hope to get away sooner, to his team waiting to celebrate and to you. There’s always a choice in the back of his mind that tells him to abandon everything and run for the hills with you. Except this time, with the championship tucked in his belt, he’s not sure what’s stopping him anymore.

The triple header came to a close in Abu Dhabi, Max closing his season out with a glorious win but there’s a feeling in your gut that tells you Max is going to say it. You’d discussed his retirement before, and you’d always tried to persuade him to stick out his contract. You would tell him that you both had time to live your lives after his career. The last thing you wanted was for Max to throw his dream away for you.

A champagne-drenched Max finds you after the podium hiding in his driver’s room. “You’re going to announce it, aren’t you?” You quietly ask, not wanting to ruin the joy but needing an answer.

Max grinned, stripping his race suit from his body. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me.”

“Then you know I am.”

“Max-“

He calms your worries with a simple declaration. “I love you. I know this is what I want. I’ve had my time, I don’t need anything more than you.”

You bite back the sting of tears and pull Max into a hug, pressing your lips against his.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers to you. “You’re okay with this?”

”Yes. I love you.”

With a kiss to his cheek, you send him to the hounds of journalists in the press conference and promise you’ll be right here when he’s done. It takes a moment for the right time to arise but when Max is asked a question about his hopes for the future, he only knows one answer.

“The future? My future? I’m retiring from formula one... effective immediately. I will be taking no more questions at this time. Thank you.”

And with that, Max put down his microphone. He stood and carefully removed his red bull hat and took a moment to simply look before he placed it where he had been sitting. He ignored the journalists practically screaming at him and the cameras that sounded like static. Without a word, he walked out of the door and promised himself he would never return.

The second he walks out of the door, your arms are wrapped around him and he falls into your embrace. Your words flow through him without being absorbed as he remembers and realises exactly what he’s done. A part of him will miss this life but most of his heart is grateful he stopped before it consumed his very being.

He had proved himself, set records for the ages and done what any formula one driver aims to do: win championships. Was it so unfair to want a different life than the one he had grown into? Was it so unfair to want that perfect family with a beachfront penthouse in Monaco or even a country home in the Netherlands? A house that always had spare bedrooms for guests to drop by, a house with love radiating from its walls and beauty running through it’s floors. Was it so unfair to want that before life slipped past him and he was a 40-year-old driving for a bottom ranking team trying to keep the dream alive?

But Max had a different dream now, a dream nothing could stop him from achieving.

Four years later, that dream is most certainly in progress as you sit in the window of that Dutch country home watching Max as he runs after your eldest daughter. There’s a babe in your arms and a feeling that nothing will ever be as perfect as this. There have been no regrets about leaving racing and no regrets about leaving that whole world behind.

Who knows what the future will bring? That’s the best part, it’s your future.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #muxsh #muxshwriting #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #abu dhabi 2024

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ch6rm · 1 month ago

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♱ ࣪˖ date night — chris sturniolo

. . . you're caught up in a terrible date, and a rescue from chris turns into something more than just a friendly favor.

˖ warnings. smut (fingering, no actual p in v, implied sex), confessing feelings kinda(?)

˖ soph's note. first one shot, and whoever requested this im so sorry it took forever 😭

the restaurant was a cozy italian place, tucked in a quiet corner of the city. candlelit tables, soft music playing in the background, and a warm basket of breadsticks in front of you—it was exactly what came to your mind when you thought of a perfect date. tonight was anything but that. it would’ve been perfect, if only the person sitting across from you wasn’t so insufferable. you felt like you were being held hostage, forced to listen to him talk about himself and nothing else. your friend was a horrible match maker.

within five minutes of sitting down, he’d managed to interrupt you twice. you sat across from him, trying to force a polite smile as he launched into yet another story about himself. here we go again….

“oh, and i’m super into traveling,” he continued, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “but only first-class, you know? i work too hard to settle for anything less.” how had we even gotten to the topic of traveling?

“oh…” you nod absentmindedly. gosh, this guy was a jerk. you glanced around the restaurant as he spoke, hoping the waiter would interrupt with the check.

he obviously didn’t notice your lack of enthusiasm as he dove into yet another story, leaning forward in his chair enthusiastically. how many stories was this guy pulling out of his ass? you fought the urge to roll your eyes. you’d been here for over an hour and he’s barely asked you a single question all night.

“anyway,” he said, waving a hand, “enough about me. what do you think about my watch?”

you blinked, staring at the obnoxiously large gold watch on his wrist. “it’s… nice?”

“right?” he grinned, clearly fishing for compliments. “cost me a fortune, but hey, i deserve it. gotta treat yourself, right?”

you tried to stay optimistic, but as the evening dragged on, you could feel yourself mentally checking out. when he started boasting about how many instagram followers he had, you knew you were done. you needed an escape.

forcing another smile, you reached for your phone under the table, sending a text to chris, hoping he could save you from this nightmare of a date. you: can u please pick me up? this date is a total disaster

you press send, fingers anxiously tapping on the table as you await chris’ response, the man in front of you too caught up in his life story to notice your anxious glances around the restaurant. finally, your phone buzzed.

chris: wya?

you sent him the address, feeling a rush of relief knowing you were gonna be out of here soon. there was so much precious time wasted on this stupid date, and you mentally cursed yourself for even giving this guy a chance.

ten minutes later, you spotted chris’ car through the window. you began to speak, cutting the guy off mid-sentence as you stood abruptly, grabbing your purse. “im really sorry, i’ve got to go,”

“what? why?” he looked genuinely confused, furrowing his brows as he saw you getting ready to leave so sudden.

“something came up,” you lied, giving him a sympathetic look, already heading for the door before he could say another word. chris was leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression one of amusement as you both got in the car.

“rough night?” he asked as you approached.

“you have no idea,” you groaned, slipping into the passenger seat. chris climbed in after you, pulling away from the curb. almost immediately, you launched into a rant, frustration bubbling over as you spoke about everything that went wrong. chris listened, feeding into your frustration as he let out a sarcastic remark every now and then.

eventually, your complaints died down, and with nowhere else to head, chris pulled into an vacant parking lot as the car was engulfed with a comfortable silence.

“thanks for coming to get me,” you say, glancing over at him. “i couldn’t handle another second there. he was driving me insane.”

chris chuckled, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel. “‘s no big deal, really.”

you give him a soft smile, glancing around the empty parking lot. the only light came from the dim glow of a nearby streetlamp. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you shifted in your seat, looking over to chris as his fingers stilled against the wheel. you couldn’t help but notice the way the light hit his face, accentuating his cheekbones and jawline. you stared for a second longer before your voice broke the silence.

“but seriously,” you begin, “you’re always there for me. i really appreciate that, chris.”

chris turns to you fully, his expression softening at your words. “of course,” he says, his voice quiet, “i’ll always be there for you. ‘s cause i care about you. you know that, right?” he looks over at you, and the sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten.

“i know,” you nod, looking away from his gaze, “i care about you, too.” you feel a rush of heat rise up to your cheeks as you speak. why were you getting so flustered?

something shifted in his expression as you said that, his playful demeanor no where to be found as your eyes met his again. “you’re not just saying that?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel.

“no,” you murmured, the word catching in your throat. you watch as his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before darting back up to your eyes, and you found your pulse beginning to quicken.

“okay, cause i mean it. i care do about you—a lot." his voice lingered on the last word, and the way he said it made you feel a way you couldn’t quite explain.

you swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. his eyes were locked on yours, and you felt unable to look away. it felt like he could see straight through you, past all your nervousness and hesitation, and straight to the way your heart was pounding.

“chris…" you started, but his name barely left your lips as he leaned in, his hand slipped from the wheel. you felt his fingertips brush lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

"tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and his breath warm against your cheek. his eyes flickered to your lips again, lingering this time. but you didn’t tell him to stop.

his lips met yours, tentative at first, like he wanted to make sure this was real. but when you responded, your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his hesitation disappeared. the kiss deepened, and you soon felt yourself being pulled onto his lap, now straddling him. warmth flooded through you as he gripped your waist, fingers digging into your hips. you felt the kiss becoming needier, his hands moving to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. your hands find their way to his hair, softly tugging at the strands as he lets out a quiet groan into your mouth. his hands moved to your thighs, rubbing up and down before they slipped under your jean skirt to tease around the soft lace of your underwear. chris pulls away, beginning to pepper kisses down your jawline and to your neck as his fingers inched closer to your clothed core.

his middle finger delicately brushed over your cunt, feeling the wetness seep through your panties as you let out a gasp, your hold on him tightening.

“you want me to stop?” he murmurs into your neck, beginning to add more pressure with his fingers. you quickly shake your head, mumbling out a desperate ‘no’ before you feel him slip two of his fingers into your panties, groaning at the feeling of your wetness. you let out a moan as he teases your entrance, slipping his two fingers inside you effortlessly.

“fuck,” you breathe out, and chris begins to pump his fingers into and out of you, curling his fingers as he elicits another moan from you, your grip on his hair tightening.

chris leaves hot and opened mouth kisses on your neck—the pace of his fingers quickening. he continued to bite and suck at your neck in response to your whimpers, his free hand coming up to squeeze at your tits as you bucked your hips into his hand, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

“i’m gonna cum, chris,” you whine, your head falling against his shoulder before you felt him remove his fingers, bringing them to his mouth as he tasted your arousal, leaving you whiney and needy for more.

chris patted your hip, urging you to get up as he spoke, “backseat, now.”

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bambiesfics · 1 year ago

Text

𝗘𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗚𝗳 — Ellie x Bimbo!r

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie has a panic attack, this references joel’s death, anxiety, bile, nausea, and hyper sexual themes, Ellie’s butch, wears a packer/strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc Reader’s a bimbo and genuinely stupid. Ellie gets really scared.

𝜗𝜚 Ellie Williams ✦ I listened to Vietnam - Crystal Castles it’s tempo mirrors Ellie’s panicked anxiety. I’ve linked to a few seconds before the beat drops, on YouTube for accessibility. Listen with earphones so the music fucks your ears.

𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. Read this to get a sense of Ellie’s headspace.

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

Ellie fisted the joystick into neutral and killed the engine. She cracked all 5 knuckles before reaching over to release your seatbelt. The belts cold buckle sprang across your breasts and over your shoulder, turning your nipples visibly hard and full in their wake. Ellie fought off the urge to glance down; to drink them in. She was semi-successful at managing away her inner teenage boy every time it chose to rear its ugly hungry head at inopportune moments.

“So…” she started, her hand massaging the inner dough of your thighs, warmed by the hug of your crossed legs. “We just gettin’ your little sparkly earrings? Or are you gonna get distracted and spend more money than I make in a single paycheck?”

You ran your palms up the sleeves of Ellie’s brown military jacket. Fascinated by the texture of the rough fabric everytime one of its crinkles caught against your acrylic nails. You couldn’t fathom how Ellie walked around in clothes so rough and distressed, all of your outfits were soft cotton or silky satin. And here Ellie wore a deconstructed uniform jacket like it was meant for her body. You blinked away your distracted thoughts, and leaned into nose at her neck. Pressing nose and lips to the source of the most comforting scent in the world to you. Allspice, cigarette smoke, and 2-in-1 body wash. There was still a faint trace of her cologne, you wish she wore it, the traces of it made you go brainless for your butch.

“Earrings only.” Your sweet voice was muffled against her neck. She reached her other hand up to cup the back of your neck. The cold metal of her rings kissed your skin, but you leaned into it.

“I’ll wait for you right here, peach.”

“Okay.” You nodded obediently.

“Don’t spend too long in there, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded once again.

“If anyone stares at you too long or makes you feel weird for being girly, call me and I’ll meet you wherever. Especially those judgemental ass grandmas.”

You looked up at her, her hair was in her eyes, casting a shadow that turned her gaze into a deep hunter green.

You leaned in slowly and kissed her lips. Ellie attempted to chase the kiss, until you slid your hand between the valley of her breasts and urged her to stay. Behave baby boy.

Ellie’s right eyebrow quirked up in response, impressed that you kept her in check. That you knew her so well that you could tell exactly where that kiss could’ve led to if you didn’t tell her to slow down.

“Be right back here in an hour.” Ellie was relishing in how your thumb rubbed across her chest. Your hand rested on her chest like you were her little damsel in distress, looking to her to save you. You made her feel like Clark Kent, and it made her want to puff her chest out.

“Hour-and-a-half, I wanna get ice cream.” You prattled.

“An hour.”

“Ellieeee” You whined.

“If you’re not back here by 2:30 pm, I’m stomping into Icing myself, throwing you over my shoulder and marching right back out.”

“Please as if you could hoist me up over your shoulder.” You leaned over to fish Ellie’s wallet from her back pocket.

Ellie side-eyed you intensely as she tracked the movement. She enclsaped your wrist in an iron grip once your acrylics brushed the back pocket of her jeans. Her thumb pressed down. You couldn’t move.

“You didn’t seem confused about my strength when I lifted you into that full nelson and pounded you in front of the mirror.” She dropped her blue steel face and started grinning like a fox. “Uhnnuhuh Ellie, m’gonna squirt. I’m gonna squirt on you daddy.” She mocked in a high-pitched overly feminine voice. She drew her eyebrows together to school up the appearance of someone deliriously aroused. One that mimicked your cock-drunk face all those days ago.

Ellie dropped the comedic expression for a moment, in favor of replacing it with the one she sported to intimidate customers who started testing her boundaries or her patience. The one that said ‘respect me.’

“Fuck you, asshole. I’m made of steel.” She spat.

You leaned up, and just planted a glossy kiss on her cheek. She blushed until she was cherry tomato red. She always blushed harder when you were affectionate to her, in the middle of her egotistical masculine delusions. Like a mom kissing her son's cheek, after he called himself Spider-Man.

Ellie would tease you for hours. But remind her again you were her adorable little girlfriend who she worshiped, then she’d be back to acting right again. Ready to hump the air just to get a whiff of your hair. Sweet and pliable. Ellie crossed her fingers subtly and hoped you got specks of glitter gloss on her cheek from that kiss. She wore your kisses like merchandise. Those and the smell of your pussy on her mouth and fingers. Some days, the smell was just smeared all over her face.

You blinked at her, slow and pouty in the way that got her real happy and pleased. “Now that you’re done poking and teasing me, can I go inside to get my sparkly earrings?”

Ellie slid her wallet into your palm, her lips parted at the way your acrylics snatched it. The way they sunk into the soft leather. Mmmm.

“An hour.”

You climbed out of her beat up hatchback. The metal groaned as you slammed the door shut. “See you Els, if I get in trouble or get lost I’ll call you okay? I charged my phone this time. Bye-bye.” You sing-songed just before walking away, out of the parking lot and towards the entrance of the mall.

You were the utter definition of hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go. Ellie drank in the very very obvious little characters of your ass. The jiggly flesh, dimpled skin, and the way they smacked each other with each step. The type of visual someone could only see if the person walking in front of them was naked. Which you practically were considering how your pink cotton leggings looked painted on. The silhouette was way too intimate with how well it showed the character of your ass. She could’ve forced you to change, but you two had such a good morning today.

Ellie didn’t want to—no—she hated picking fights with you. Ellie being mad at you? That was just another Tuesday. She had temperament issues, trauma, death of a loved one blah blah blah. But you being mad at Ellie? She’d kill herself. She shuddered in the car at the thought of it, and swallowed her jealousy. Everyone sees your little dimpled ass? Fine. She’s the only person that’s seen it twerking for her during backshots. And anyway, you’d get jealous if she wore gray sweatpants to work, so she kinda understood the sentiment. Especially because she packed everywhere, and the bulge was glaring.

Ellie wrapped her knuckles on the steering wheel. Trying to distract herself from the slow and lonely weight of the parking lot. Joy Division’s “disorder” played in her head. She considered pulling out a Marlboro to smoke, but thought against it. She remembered how you squealed whenever she kissed you with cigarette breath, telling her how it made your kisses taste so bitter.

Truth be told, she was just as clingy with you, as you were to her. You just initiated it more often. When someone follows her around like a little puppy trying to catch up to its much larger owner all day, it’s hard not to notice their missing presence.

Ellie played with her rings as the mounting anxiety gnawed at her tummy. She turned her wrist over to check her watch. Ten. Only ten minutes had gone by? Fucking christ.

She puffed out her cheeks. Yeah she was being ridiculous. Knowing you, you probably had only just arrived at the store, and that meant making a cute pikachu face at every new piece of merchandise they shipped into the shop floor that week. So it’d be a while before you were back. She could’ve gone in with you, but Ellie knew her presence there would’ve weirdly encouraged you to take a full day tour of the mall. She was your walking wallet apparently. But it’s worse when the wallet can actually give in.

It was better this way, you kept her card in hand, but Ellie wasn’t physically there to actually convince of anything. So you couldn’t use it to buy anything more than earrings. Plus, she couldn’t stand another trip to Victoria’s Secret. As much as she loved the way you modeled a show for her whenever you tried stuff on, and as much as the jokes she cracked with the other boyfriends waiting for their girlfriends to be done made for good conversation, Victoria’s Secret just served to make her feel incredibly out of place. Mostly due to its overtly sexual displays of femininity. Something she still struggled to place how she felt about. All Ellie knew was that she didn’t want it.

Matter of fact she had repelled femininity so much, it even reflected in her dating preferences. You were by far the most feminine girl Ellie had ever dated. That was a considerably large shift from the tomboys she typically had crushes on in highschool.

But she couldn’t help but be turned on by the way your acrylics stroked her bulge, by the way you blinked up at her with those dolly lashes like you needed her approval more than you needed oxygen, by the way she got both wet and enraged seeing men’s gazes linger on you as she walked behind you. Lingering in a way that they never did for any of her exes. It ignited a possessiveness in her she had convinced herself she didn’t have the ability to feel. Made her walk out the house with her shoulders drawn up to her ears, scowling. As if to say to all the men, ‘fuck off, get your own cocksleeve. This one’s claimed.’

You were the cutest cocksleeve too. The human embodiment of a little bow for her dick.

Just the thought prompted her to squeeze her bulge through her jeans, feeling phantom erections.

God it’d been how long now? Ellie checked her watch, reading the watch face to make sure she’d read that right. Twenty minutes? Only?

Her palms started perspiring, and she started grinding her teeth. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. She’ll be back any minute. Be cool, you freak.

Ellie reached to grab her phone, but the way the time flashed at the top bar of the screen made her stomach knot up anxiously. She chucked her phone into the passenger seat, and rolled down the window to get some fresh air. It felt beautiful for a moment, her rough short hair curling around the wind and blowing in her eyes. But then she felt like she couldn’t breathe again. Like her throat was squeezing in on itself. So Ellie unbuttoned the top button of her navy plaid button down. She yanked the collar away from her neck, and took deep breaths. Nice and deep slow breaths. The demonic little shadows and whispers of panic ebbed away, leaving only room for peace and the sunlight of the early afternoon. Ellie smiled, she’d be fine.

She played with her rings, recounting all the places and dates she’d thrifted them from. Then she started fidgeting with them as her leg bounced in the car, working off some of that returning nervous energy. The little shadows were starting to creep back in her mind again. Ellie white-knuckled the steering wheel. “No, no, no please. Not now, please not now.” She sucked in a deep breath as unshed tears lined her waterline. She flipped her wrist watch face up quickly, you’d been gone for thirty-five minutes by this point. And Ellie felt her skin run cold. thirty-five minutes left twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five more minutes for the ebb and flow of panic to infect her brain and trigger her adrenaline response. Twenty-five more minutes of letting her own mind attack itself. Ellie couldn’t stomach the thought. She started gasping as she fidgeted to remove the car keys from the ignition. The dark whispering shadow only urged her to look at one thought in her mind: Alone. You’re alone again, Ellie.

She nearly keeled over from the sheer nausea that thought brought about. Ellie tripped out of her car, slammed the door and stumbled towards the mall as her heartbeat thundered louder than her thoughts. And her thoughts were very loud. Her face felt tight and itchy, as she ran. And due to the combination of wind and glossy eyes, her vision warped until it became disfigured. Which only set off to make her blood run icier. Like she was being deprived of all her necessary senses as she yanked the mall door open and stumbled around trying to wade her way through until she got to the side where women’s jewelry and clothing was huddled. Her vision was disjointed, Ellie felt as if she was looking through a fish-eye lens. It caused bile to rise in her throat. Ellie was spiraling, she knew it. And if she didn’t find you—fuck where were you?—it was only going to get uglier for her. She despised being reduced to ugly. She hated herself when she was ugly.

Snot mixed in with tears as she scaled the walls of the mall trying to use the brightness of pink and white signs to guide her to the right store. You promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing. She hummed the mantra in corners of her brain.

She gurgled “better fucking be at Icing otherwise I’m gonna kill he—my heart christ—fuck fuck fuck baby please be at icing.” The palpitations rolled in, causing her heart to beat erratically. Two beats instead of one, a skipped beat, or an extra hard beat. Every bastardized combination instead of the reliable, glub-glub of a healthy heart. Ellie gripped her own shirt, and tried to feel any lingering warmth from your hand when you placed it there nearly an hour ago. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and she was still blind with a disjointed vision no matter how much she rubbed her jacket across her eyes to soak up tears. Ellie stumbled until she saw a store with the familiar lettering, and she yanked and tugged at her shirt to ground herself as she made her way to the checkout lane. “Hi.” Her voice came out so small and strained. She hated herself for it.

“Have you seen a girl, she’s—seems about yay-high and she’s wearing pink leggings and a tight pink top. Oh—she’s pretty—long nails. My girlfriend, do you know where my girlfriend is?” Ellie choked, her sanity was slipping. Her bloodshot eyes were crazed as she stared down at the cashier like the woman held the answer to curing Ellie’s mental suffering.

“N-no. Sorry I didn’t see a girl with pink leggings.”

“No?” Ellie’s voice grew fainter, weaker. She sobbed “are you sure?” but her voice crackled with that sentence, and the cashier just stared at her with a puzzled expression, unsure of what to say to diffuse the situation.

Ellie stumbled out of the store, flinching at the expressions of customers who were looking around the store to see if they were the only one witnessing the girl's mounting panic attack. She ran to an empty hallway in the mall. The one where they kept those gumball machines that hadn’t been replaced since 1998. She fell to her knees and curled in on herself. Her nails scratched her scalp until it broke skin, trying to draw out the thoughts of being alone, being alone, being alone, being, alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, out of her head.

Ellie tugged at her hair now, using the self-inflicted pain to distract from that hungry giggling fear, the one that wrapped itself around her eyes and throat and told her to describe what she saw: loneliness. Pitch black, devoid of warmth, pure unadulterated isolation.

She needed you, needed you so bad as she cried to herself on her knees. She should’ve never let you go alone, she should’ve never let you walk away from her, she should’ve never let you have an hour to leave her, she should’ve never let you take her wallet and not take her, she should’ve never ever ever ever ignored the signs, the raised hairs and the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach the past week. Just waiting to be triggered by something insignificant. Now it was triggered, and in an incredibly public place too. Ellie beat her chest, coughing just to bring herself down from the dissociative hell her mind was flinching in. “Baby where are you? I’m hurting…it’s hurting me again. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, peach.”

Nails bluntly tickled her nape, sending a shiver down her spine just as the smell of sweet jasmine and vanilla perfume engulfed her. Ellie broke from her kneeling fetal position to draw you into her lap. She didn’t even need to look at you, she knew you like the back of her hand. Ellie knew the feeling of those acrylic nails because of how deeply they’d scratched down her back in bed. She knew the smell of your perfume from how often she’d buried her face into your waiting body after work for comfort. Her grip was painful, likely breaking capillaries from its tightness. She mewled for you like a kitten finding its mother. “Babygirl.”

“Ellie—Ellie I’m sorry did I take too long? I set an alarm, I don’t think it went off, I’m sorry Ellie I didn’t mean too I promise.” Ellie let out a wet laugh from where her face was crooned in your neck. She just shook her head. It absolutely was not your fault. But God weren’t you just the cutest fucking thing in the world for thinking you’d made another little mistake? How sweet, that even in the face of Ellie’s utter mental crack and breakdown, you found a way to give your baby the benefit of the doubt. Ellie dragged her face up your neck, inhaling deeply as her nose traced a path up your throat. The scent alone was like Xanax to the nerves, drowning her in a sea of serenity. Letting the anxiety ebb away until it was no more than a dull twinge, the whispers reduced to muted hums. You were her light. Ellie’s grip on you tightened, her medicine.

She pulled her face away, and she could only imagine how distressed she must’ve looked by the way your eyebrows drew up, and by the way your pretty little lips formed a worried pout. Ellie gnawed on her bottom lip. There was nothing to fear, you would understand.

“You didn’t take too long princess, I just had a panic attack.”

Your hands flew to cup Ellie’s reddened blotchy cheeks, massaging her face cutely as her eyelashes fluttered. God, you were a balm. “I should’ve seen it coming, I’ve been feeling so out of it the past week. But then this morning was so fun. We made fluffy pancakes, you sat on my lap and listened to my dumb work drama, helped me trim my bangs, then...” Ellie blew air into her cheeks and looked up. This was going to be hard to say. Felt like a lump stuck in her throat. “Then we got ready and the kiss we had before we got in the car made everything melt away. This morning was so good baby, so good. I tried to ignore it, thinking my brain just wanted to be a little asshole and spook me for no reason. But no—I should’ve known—it doesn’t play tricks, it only gives warnings.”

Ellie leaned into your palms, she kissed them gently. “Can we go home baby?.” She held your gaze through wet eyelashes. You nodded “Mhm. I’m sorry Els I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I missed you.” You were disappointed because you didn’t intuitively know the right words to say, and how to say them. Didn’t know how to articulate that you understood her pain but she also shouldn’t beat herself up. Everything you thought of sounded cliche, you weren’t smarter than her, you weren’t able to come up with reassuring words the way other people could. Not like her uncle Tommy or Maria, or anyone. All you could do was cover her in kisses, tell her you loved her, that next time you’d never ever be separated from her, and cradle her head against your chest.

Ellie rose to her feet, pulling you up with her by your elbows. The kiss that followed was for comfort, for reassurance. For the feeling of squeezing her human emotional support plushie.

Ellie pulled away first, leaving you wanting more. She tasted so good, smelled so good. Made you want to pur and stroke her through her jeans. But it wasn’t the time nor place. Not after recent events.

“Did you get your earrings at least?”

“Yeah, I got a pair for you too!” You shared excitedly.

Ellie was still shaken up, but for now she could break out a small grin. “You got earrings for me?”

“Yes, same color too!”

“Baby, my ears aren’t even pierced...”

“Oh.” Ellie loved that, your characteristic little ‘oh’.

“I knew that. I just got them for when—for when you decided to pierce them, yeah.”

Ellie was hot in your heels as you two made your way out of the mall “Is that right?”

“Mhm.” You refused to meet her eyes.

“Oh yeah? K, then. Thank you so much for getting me a gift using my credit card.”

“You’re very welcome, I love when we match as a couple. Els when we got home, did you want my chicken noodle? Cause it’ll make you feel better.”

Ellie sucked in a breath. Cuteness aggression was real, and she was feeling it so hard right then. Right after her emotions had already been frayed by her anxiety. She knew, if it wasn’t for the way the panic attack had left her feeling utterly exhausted, bone tired like a wet blanket, ready to drop at a moment's notice to recuperate, that she would’ve done something that would’ve pulled a squeal out of you in the car. And she had the package to do so.

“Sure, I’ll eat your damn noodle soup.” She chuckled tiredly.

You put both palms on her chest and leaned in to kiss her, stealing back some of the desire that was ripped away too soon in the mall.

“You’ll feel better in no time.”

Ellie gave you a once-over. Over eager, as usual.

“Somehow I don’t doubt that.”

You littered her face in kisses all the way home, like you always did. Like you thought each press of your lips to her freckled face was going to cure her of her anguish. And believe Ellie, every press of your puffy lips to her cheeks, tip of her nose and forehead did more for her state of mind than two hours of trauma therapy a week did. Or at least that’s what she’d like to believe. Fuck the noddle soup, it’s you. You’re what’s going to make her feel better. As long as you’re there, everyday for her to come home to. All she needed was her pretty princess, her little babydoll, her little bimbo.

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