#maybe they'll find your head this time
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kaesaaurelia · 1 year ago
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Love to be scrolling the Chicago tag and getting posts about that bonkers conspiracy theory that all classical and neoclassical architecture is what remains of an ancient civilization of giants and the reason most of the stuff built for the 1893 World's Fair is no longer standing is because (((they))) don't want you to know history and not because that shit was always temporary, was slated for demolition, and then burned down by accident before that.
"Oh but it's sooo detailed and pretty! How could it be temporary?" Tell me you never worked in tech theater without telling me. Tell me you know jack shit about the long history of making pretty scenery that's not meant to last long for all kinds of fucking reasons.
And it's not like there's detailed documentation of what was and was not standing in Chicago in 1871 that doesn't fucking include any of these supposedly ancient structures - oh, wait, there fucking is! There's also janky 19th century attempts at BEFORE AND AFTER 3D IMAGES of that shit, believe it or not. Because oh yeah, there was a big goddamn fire then too, because fire was a huge problem in 19th century cities generally.
(Love to see San Francisco also included in this "oh suuure there was a fire" bs. No fucking shit, their flag has a goddamn phoenix on it, there sure fucking was a fire.)
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lucabyte · 6 months ago
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Perceptive kid, I wonder just how much they pretend not to overhear.
#ignooore that a5 bonnie doesnt get the nice resolved versions of their discussions with sif.. i still think they can navigate it eventually#in stars and time#isat#isat spoilers#in stars and time fanart#isat fanart#isat loop#isat bonnie#lucabyteart#the dialogue in this kicked my asssss. trying to balance loop's evasiveness and layered meaning...#to spell it out: it's not that loop is actually *that* worried they'll hurt bonnie. it's that they think siffrin is being a fucking idiot#and being extremely sloppy in their protection of their party by trusting them to not be a loose cannon. THEY simply wouldn't#be that irresponsible if it were them!!! hmph!!! ... because they care. and because they maybe Are a little worried.#they don't want that responsibility. they gave that all up. stop making them responsible again. stop stop stop#and as for the other half of the meaning here: get called out idiot. not on purpose of course. bonnie doesn't know (yet).#but it's a brisk reminder of the hypocrisy (since even if loop makes sly reference to their identity to sif all the time... one must wonder#how often it actually sinks in that that's true....? it must be hard to get your head around when you refuse to admit that your habits and#demeanor have changed so drastically since then. like wtf thats not what i would do! clearly a different guy ! faker !! and yet...)#but yeah idk i think about loop and bonnie's relationship a lot. the one party member i dont think loop could ever bring themselves to be#mean to. because cmon. thats a kid. but still... the emotional distance probably stings even worse than usual.#and once bonnie finds out.... ! well. that emotional distance probably stings. even worse. than usual.
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lucybellwood · 7 months ago
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Lemme tell you a gay little story about an eagle.
Our town (~9,000 people) has a couple garages, but there's a big one on the main drag. My family has been going there for decades. I drive past it every day.
There used to be a huge pine tree on the corner of their lot, but last year it became a hazard and had to be taken down.
Shortly thereafter I drive by and see they've hired a guy to chainsaw sculpt the stump into a bald eagle.
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Birds own my heart, but nationalism makes me twitchy. I withhold outright condemnation of the eagle, but I'm skeptical. (The original owner—an objectively Good Dude—sold the business to a younger couple a few years ago, and I don't have any knowledge of their whole deal.)
Then it turns out someone on staff is really into making costumes for the eagle. Every holiday. Every month. Stuffed turkey, witch costume, menorah headpiece, bunny ears. These people love to dress their bird.
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The changing of the eagle suit becomes a source of joy every time I drive through town.
Until June, when the eagle is bare.
Now look, maybe I'm expecting too much asking my garage to celebrate Pride. But this is a small town. Every time I drive by that stupid eagle—this thing that has previously brought me so much joy—I feel hurt. I feel reminded that there are plenty of people in my liberal bubble who don't consider my community worthy of celebration. I drive to work, I feel bad. I drive home, I feel bad. The eagle is mocking me.
Then my A/C quits working.
So I book an appointent to bring my car in—and realize what I have to do.
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I pick all this up at a thrift store for under ten bucks. I print the shirt with some weird heat-transfer fabric crayons I find in a cupboard. I loop gold elastic around the sunglasses and pray they'll fit on the eagle's head. (It is also important to draw your attention to the price of the feather boa.)
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(Nice.)
My reasoning is thus: if I show up with a complete costume ready to go, someone will have to look me in the eye and say "We don't believe in that," at which point I'll be finding a new garage. But if they let me dress the eagle, then people in town get to have the joy I've been missing since the start of the month.
I listen to a lot of hype-up jams on my way over. I hate confrontation. I also don't wanna have to find another garage. I want to believe that this decision isn't actively antagonistic, but I'm not particularly hopeful.
I talk through the A/C issue with the guy at the desk, hand over my keys, then take a deep breath.
"Who's in charge of the eagle?"
"Oh, that's all Dylan. Second bay from the end."
I walk down the row of hydraulic lifts and find a disarmingly smiley middle-aged man pouring fluid through a funnel. I introduce myself and explain that, since the Pride parade is this Sunday and the eagle seems to be missing a costume, I have taken the liberty of making one myself, and can I get his blessing to go put it on?
Dylan grins this absolutely giant grin and goes
"Oh hell yeah."
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So that's what's up now.
Happy Pride.
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osaemu · 1 year ago
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ CAN I PUT YOU ON HOLD? ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. NSFW
contents: fem!reader. cunniligus, lil' bit of dirty talk and more... i'm too tired to type it all out </3
author's note: idk personally i wouldn't take that.. but i guess i would if it was satoru. anywaysss enjoy
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satoru's a busy man — balancing his responsibilities as a teacher and as a sorcerer is no easy task, but he finds a way to make it work.
anyone who's known him for longer than a minute can easily tell that satoru's committed to his line of work. as much as he complains about it, the truth is that it's one of his top priorities. maybe even the first one.
and you get a taste of just how devoted satoru is when he picks up the phone in the middle of fucking you. 
"hello?" satoru cooes, eyes focused on your indignant expression as he holds a finger to his lips. "yeah, i'm free to talk. what is it?"
"free to talk?" you mouth at him incredulously. satoru replies with a wink and grins, enjoying the show. you're still pinned underneath him, bedsheets haphazardly strewn across your body, and satoru savors the sight of you all needy and pouty.
"yeah, take your time," satoru says amusedly to whoever's on the other side of the phone after a moment. when you reach up and swat satoru's chest indignantly, he uses his free hand to pin your wrists above your head, a clear warning in his eyes.
after a couple of mhm's and of course's, the conversation still isn't over. your patience is waning — who is satoru to just stop in the middle of fucking you to pick up a phone call and say that he's free to talk?
you try to distract yourself by thinking about the mindblowing sex you were having just minutes ago. the longing, glassy stares; the red scratch marks down satoru's back; and of course you couldn't leave out the words.
"fuck, you're taking me so well, sweetheart." "atta girl, you're a natural slut, aren't ya?" "your pussy was made to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"
how did that turn into "yeah, make sure the higher-ups know about this, otherwise they'll give me hell for it. mhm"?
after another bland minute, satoru rolls off of you and sits up with his back against the headboard, sheets falling to expose everything from his waist up. 
you whine in impatience, glaring at him like a sullen child. satoru basically just edged you — one second you're about to get to best orgasm of your life, the next you're forced to watch your boyfriend chat on the phone nonchalantly as if he wasn't just moaning your name like a slut three minutes earlier.
satoru shoots a glare at you and pats his lap, pressing a finger to his lips as a reminder to stay quiet.
well then, he shouldn't have picked up the phone in the middle of fucking you.
you scoot yourself into his lap, purposefully positioning yourself so that your pussy just barely rubs against the head of satoru's still-dripping cock.
it's so worth it when you hear satoru inhale a sharp breath and start to squirm under you, somehow both trying to push himself inside but also trying to inch himself away. it's like he can't decide, but the way his face flushes red speaks volumes.
his voice is breathier than normal as he squeezes his watery eyes shut. "yeah yeah, that's perfect. you mind if i put y'on hold for a sec? alright, thanks."
you glance over at satoru as he retracts the phone from his ear and puts it on mute. not even a second later, he's back on you, manhandling you into a position where he can comfortably eat your pussy, a cheeky smile on his lips.
"you think you're so fucking funny, don't ya?" satoru cooes, looking up at you as he eats you out sloppily. a mixture of his saliva and your essence drips down his chin, and the lewd sounds slipping from his lips are pornworthy. the wail that slips out of your lips when satoru bites down on your thigh hard enough to leave a mark is anything but appropriate, especially when he presses his lips back to your pussy and laughs in the middle of tonguefucking you.
"fuck, you're so lucky my phone's on mute right now," satoru groans, still buried in between your thighs. "god, if my old man could hear you now—"
"your dad's on the other end of the phone?!" you gasp, swatting satoru's head and frantically reaching over him to check if the phone was actually on mute — knowing satoru, it could've just slipped his mind. intentionally.
satoru scowls, muttering a reminder for you to stay still while he eats his dessert before rolling his eyes and grumbling "what does it matter?"
"uh, that's embarrassing!" you whine. when satoru nudges his nose against you again, you reluctantly spread your thighs for him so he can continue his meal. satoru mumbles a thanks, but he doesn't respond beyond that.
"satoru!"
"what??"
"don't you have to finish your call?"
satoru sticks out his bottom lip, fixing his cerulean eyes on you and pouting. "you were just complaining about the call and now you want me to go back??"
"it's your dad, satoru," you groan, pushing his shoulders away from your legs and ignoring his protests. "you don't get any more pussy until you finish that damn call."
"i hate you."
"love you lots, baby."
satoru sighs dramatically and unmutes the call, not bothering to respond to his dad's questions with answers longer than a word or two. after another minute of this, his dad finally hangs up and satoru lets out an elated cheer.
he turns to you with a mischievous smirk. 
"now, where were we?"
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unintentionalseductress · 2 months ago
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More spamming for LaDs, but spicy...
NSFW HCs: Favorite non-traditional space to enjoy a good romp other than a bed for each of the boys... and maybe why it is their favorite?
Unconventional Romp Spots
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This took a while but here we are! Loved the creativity of this request and let's face it, all of them are down so bad for reader that they'll do whatever she wants. 🤭🤭🤭 Warnings: MDNI, exhibitionism, PIV sex, clit play
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Zayne’s favorite spot to make love to you apart from the bed was the couch. Was it incredibly unconventional? Not really but the couch was firm and warm, the place you and he sat snuggled together during those rare times he wasn’t working, countless movies and snacks shared, and drinking your morning coffee in each other’s company.
So why shouldn’t it count as a perfectly good spot to make love?
Your fingers tangle into his silky locks of hair as he kisses you, his large body hovering carefully before he lays down, his hips now flush against yours as he sensually licks your lips before parting them with his tongue. A contented sigh escapes you as the wet appendage dances with yours, sending jitters of excitement running through you as you slip your hands under his shirt, enjoying the warmth and scent of his skin. 
A hum emanates from his large frame as you reach the middle of his back, your nails scratching him just hard enough to send a rush of arousal skittering down his spine, heat gathering in his veins as he drinks in the sight of you, flushed and hazy, beneath him. You help each other remove the barriers of clothing, savoring the intimate skin-to-skin contact. You nuzzle his neck then trail a line of kisses down the side, watching his eyes darken with desire. 
With care, he pulls off your bra, tossing it aside and kneeling, the low couch creaking slightly as it took your weight. The TV remote lay forgotten on the coffee table as Zayne swirls a hardened nipple into his hot, wet, mouth, sucking patiently. You cradle his head as pleasurable shocks zip straight to your core. Your clit throbs in need as he tweaks your free nipple between his fingers. You writhe and moan, your hips pressing against his to seek friction.
Expertly you undo the belt of his buckle and his zip, rocking your hands against the hard heat of his erection and he releases your nipple to groan needily, his eyes flashing dangerously. Not needing any further encouragement he slides your panties off your legs, his hand coming up to cup your mound and gathering the moist heat leaking from your core onto his fingers, spreading it up towards your clit. You’re helpless under him, his long, thick, middle finger sliding so teasingly into your core while his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves.
Sighs and longing moans of need escape you as he builds up your arousal, those keen eyes watching your face for signs of your impending climax, and when you finally begin to clamp down with that familiar pattern onto his fingers, he crooks his inserted finger up into that spongy patch of delight. You erupt, a wavering moan escaping your lips as the orgasm rips through you, your clit and core spasming in pleasure around him. He pulls out his fingers, licking them clean before aligning himself between your legs.
You awkwardly part them, trying to find a comfortable angle on the narrow space of the sofa before he grabs you by the ankles and wraps your legs securely around his waist before entering you in one, long, passionate, stroke. The air grows balmy as his hips undulate, the fill of him inside you bringing all your primal needs to the surface. Your nails leave scratches on his back, and your eyes close as the sound of his ragged breathing overtakes your senses. Your eyes meet and you stroke his face, gently tracing the outline of his lips, caressing the corners of his eyes before he gathers your close, his grip leaving indents in your skin as he gives all of himself to you. 
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Oh, this sweet-looking man is the wolf in sheep’s clothing. He won’t hesitate to take you anywhere, anytime. His unconventional spot is his desk at the office. He loves how naughty it makes him feel.
It’s past office hours and everyone has gone home, but Xavier had been making excuses to get you to stay late since lunch. Now, finally alone he boxes you in against his desk, your body blocked from escaping by his tall frame. His gloved hands shamelessly slide under your hunter’s uniform as he gropes your tits, palming the mounds of flesh possessively, satisfaction coursing through his veins as your nipples harden under his palms. His tongue traces hot trails down your neck as you squirm against him, feeling hardness gather between his thighs.
You whimper as his teeth scrape the front of your throat, your blood humming in your ears. Xavier undoes the buttons and buckles on the uniform and your clothes slide to the floor, leaving you in bra and panties. A stain of moisture has gathered on the crotch and Xavier’s sapphire eyes become luminous with hunger at the sight. 
“I’m guessing you’re just pretending when you say you don’t like me taking you at the office.” He helps you hop onto the desk and then kneels between your thighs, his nose brushing against the smear, inhaling the musky scent of need leaking from your core. He pulls apart your legs, helping you balance your feet at the edge of the desk then hooks his finger into the gusset of your panties, pulling them to the side and giving you a teasing lick that makes your hips thrust up. 
Xavier chuckles and sticks his tongue into your moist hole and you moan, the noise escaping into the quietness of the office, only seeming to sound louder than when it was full. Lewd slurping noises can be heard as Xavier goes to town, sucking every drop of your essence he can find, his tongue drawing circles over your sensitive bud as your hips instinctively rock against his mouth. Xavier’s cock throbs painfully inside his slacks as he steadily builds your orgasm, your every movement and noise only adding fuel to the fire. He frees one hand from it’s glove and probes your entrance, watching your fluttering hole suck his fingers in, clenching with desire around the long digits.
Every nerve in your body is begging for release, your head turning to one side, seeing all the empty desks of your colleagues, none of whom will have a clue of what happened on the desk next to them when they get in the next morning. The thought causes heat to gather in your belly, your abdominal muscles tightening in anticipation until Xavier pushes you over the peak, your breath tearing from your throat as you gasp out in ecstasy, pulse after pulse of satisfying pleasure flooding your senses. 
Xavier licks his fingers clean then quickly undoes his pants, his cock finally springing free of its confines, leaking precum on its tip. He guides himself towards your warm, wet, cunt, gently splitting you apart as he fills you up. The stretch of muscle is welcoming, and he rolls your knees onto your chest, making you impossibly tighter around him as he starts to thrust. 
As the air fills with your quiet whimpers, he sighs and settles into a comfortable rhythm, ensuring he bottoms out each time, dragging his length along your inner walls as he withdraws. 
“Maybe next time we should do this on Tara’s desk instead of mine. Imagine her look of confusion when she comes in and sees all her paperwork is stained.”
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The beach. He enjoys the noise of the water lapping onto the sand as he pulls you away to a hidden spot on the sandy dunes. Was it really his fault that you wore that sexy little bikini, the one that showed just enough of your sweet ass and lacked just enough support that it didn’t prevent your boobs from jostling around when you walked?
Surrounded by a craggy wall of privacy, his eyes glitter mischievously as he squeezes every part of your body, enjoying the way your face becomes flushed and your kisses become sloppier as he teases your nipples through the bikini top, the peaks visible and hard. He grins unashamedly as you stretch out on your stomach on the beach blanket he’s laid out, and starts to undo the knot at your back. His lips kiss the back of your neck and trail down your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine with each touch. You’re humming lazily, then roll over to expose your breasts to him, sand dotting your collarbones and belly. 
Rafayel dips his head and suckles a pert nipple, groaning. “Oh, you’re all salty babe…from swimming in the ocean. Oh delicious…” He switches to the other one, savoring the taste of the salt and your skin as you moan and reach over to palm him through his swimming trunks. He’s rock hard and throbbing as you stroke his erection and his hips snap forward with each movement of your small hand. 
The sound of the waves crashing down onto the shore and the call of the seagulls disguise the moans and noises of sweet pleasure the both of you are making as Rafayel hooks a finger into the elastic of your bikini bottom and pulls it down. The ocean breeze caresses your body and goosebumps erupt all over your skin. Rafayel chuckles and covers your body, his warmth seeping comfortingly into you as your hands tickle down his back, leaning up to give him unhurried kisses down his happy trail. Unable to hide your enthusiasm anymore, you loosen the drawstring of his swim shorts, tugging down the fabric and freeing his hard meat. It pops up proudly, leaking droplets at the tip. 
You swirl your tongue generously around it and Rafayel bucks almost delicately into your mouth, the moist heat welcome against the chill of the air. He clicks his tongue in dismay as you let go but surprise him by rolling him under you, and quickly changing positions so that your pussy was tantalizingly visible over his face. You go back to eagerly slurping his generous length and feel the wet slip of his tongue lick a hot stripe along your cunt and hum in gratification as he hits your clit. He tasted salty too, and you suck on his tip like a lollipop trying to fit as much of him into your mouth as you could. Saliva drips from your mouth and onto the crevices of his thighs as you pleasure each other. You let out a keening moan, muffled by his cock as he inserts two fingers into your fluttering hole and starts petting your gspot. Your hips rock against his face and when his lips seal over your clit your concentration slips, his cock falling from your mouth as you rest your cheek on his thigh and writhe, all your inhibitions flying loose.
The relentless actions of his tongue and fingers bring you to a satisfactory orgasm, the punch of ecstasy pulsing through you as your fingers find purchase in the sand, bracing yourself and letting out shuddering whines as you ride the dizzying high. 
Rafayel laps at the fluid leaking from your core, and the feeling jolts you into needing more, the clenching of your cunt almost becoming unbearable. You scramble off his face, resting on your knees as you drag your pussy down his chest, then tease his swollen cockhead with your drooling hole. Rafayel hisses at the sensitivity and before you could react he thrusts his hips and sheathes himself inside you. 
Full and in a haze of need, you ride him, feeling his hands firmly grasp your fleshy ass, gently prying apart your cheeks as you bounced so that he can see the way your hole slides over him, enveloping him in that sweet essence.
“Ahh fuck…” Rafayel’s thrusts get sloppy as the slap of skin on skin gets more urgent, your moans mingling in the salty air as you push him to the edge. Rafayel grits his teeth as your pussy spasms around him, milking him dry as he unloads, his milky seed flooding your channel like sea foam washing up on the sand. 
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It excites Sylus to take you on his private balcony. It’s just secluded enough not to give away everything that's happening but open enough that a passerby might hear or see something they weren’t expecting. The excitement is enough to get his blood pumping, a heady rush swooshing through his body as his head fills with illicit thoughts on how to get you to lose control. 
“Sylus please…” You whine helplessly as his head buries itself between your parted thighs, his tongue licking a sinfully pleasurable line from your dripping hole up to your clit. Your hands grip the railing as you moan into the open air while he crouches, a powerful jaguar that wasn’t going to leave you until he’s had his fill. The dim lights of the N109 zone surround you, passing cars and the faint noise of the few people that dared to walk on the streets breaching the edges of your senses.
His hot tongue pushes into your dripping hole and your legs wobble from the heady rush of desire that surges through you. Sylus’s chuckle is muffled and he withdraws, only to replace his tongue with his long, thick fingers. You lean over the edge, trying to steady yourself and Sylus firmly wraps his arms around your middle.
“Please what kitten?” He curls his fingers up into your gspot and pops of color appear behind your closed eyelids as you twitch, your ass jiggling as you dance on his fingers. The air is punctuated with broken moans and Sylus’s eyes gleam in satisfaction at your broken state. “That’s not nearly loud enough. You’ll need to mewl harder than that to even be heard over the traffic.” He gives a teasing lick to your clit and watches your hips jerk. The puffy folds of your sex are leaking copiously, coating his fingers with your slick.
How delightful to have you at his mercy, to have the whole N109 zone hear the pretty noises you made for him, to establish his dominance everywhere. Sylus nuzzles his nose in between your sex, inhaling the sweet musk of your pussy and you reflexively push against him. “This smell when you get so needy for me…it’s intoxicating.” Caged between Sylus and the balcony you’re helpless to do anything else but accept his kisses and licks, feeling him swirl the tip of his tongue on your clit while his fingers work inside you to bring you over the edge. 
When your orgasm finally peaks you sob, your body shaking uncontrollably, all thoughts of not being discovered flying out of the window as pleasure pulses through your body. You bear down on his face, pleasing him immensely as you ride out the dizzying spiral of delight. Once you calm down, Sylus gets to his feet, then to your shock, roughly yanks open the front of your blouse, your tits open to the night air. The taboo of the act brings forth a surge of fresh arousal as he palms the mounds of flesh and you hear the soft noise of a zipper being opened. His cock pushes apart your folds, the engorged head notching into your messy opening and filling your empty canal. You choke out a desperate sound, lost to the noise of the city, but more follow as he thrusts smoothly, his hardened meat kissing your cervix with each stroke.
He offers you his finger and you suck on it for comfort, whining your muffled pleasure as he continues the mutual gratification. 
“That’s a good kitten. Keep purring for me, sweetie.”
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© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating
@theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume
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rowarn · 10 months ago
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cw: gun play, throat fucking with a gun im sorry, simon coming untouched, masturbation (reader) I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BRAIN SO unedited
simon with a gun kink that he's kept hidden would be crazy.
imagine ur big, beefy husband coming home after a long deployment. he's tense, his fists are clenched tight and it's clear he's got a ton of steam he needs to blow off.
at first, you expect a normal night together of him plowing you into the mattress so hard that the bed creaks and hits the wall with every thrust. the kind of fucking that leaves you trembling for 15 minutes after you've finished and cleaned up. the kind that has him pulling you into his arms to soothe and coo at.
but something is different this time.
he starts removing his gear one by one as usual but instead of removing the holster with his gun and safely placing it down, he unholsters the gun completely.
you're watching with bated breath as he unloads the weapon, carefully pulling it back and peering into the chamber. you're watching his hands move, admiring how strong his fingers are and how the veins in his hands bulge out with every movement
you deviously excited by the time he approaches you -- the gun still in his hand.
he brings it up, placing the nozzle against your chin, finger hovering off the the trigger. but you know how well-trained he is -- how good he is at his job. you know that he could have that finger on the trigger in a milisecond, faster than you would even be able to comprehend.
"open," he orders, a voice that sends shivers down your spine. it's firm, rough, authoritative. it's a tone you imagine he uses when he's on the field.
soliders bow to his every whim and you're no better. but unlike those who are trained to obey him because it's their job -- you obey him because you know if you do, you'll get the sweetest reward in the world; that thick, full cock still hidden in his pants.
your panties are already wet and sticky and your brain’s already feeling fuzzy by the time you open your mouth. 
the shock of cold is the first thing you recognize followed by the tang of metal as the weapon settles on your tongue. your lashes flutter as you look up at your husband, face still obscured by his balaclava but his pretty, brown eyes burn holes into you nevertheless.
he slowly and carefully slides the gun deeper into your mouth until it presses against the back of your throat and you involuntarily gag. a groan rips from his cheeks as he watches the tears gather on your lashline.
"that's it, pretty," he coos, "bet you wish that was my cock huh?" you nod your head as best you can with the weapon lodged in your throat, "maybe i'll give it to you if you put on a real nice show for me."
his words take a moment to register in your fuzzy brain but once they do, your hand is flying down between your legs at record speed. you slip it beneath the band of your panties, barely lifting his shirt that you're wearing out of the way so you can finally find relief in the ache that has settled in your cunt.
your folds are wet and sticky as they part around your fingers and you struggle to swallow around the gun in your mouth. there's no give to the metal and drool begins to dribble down your shin in long, thin strings.
simon's cock is hard, heavy and leaking against his thigh. this has been one of his best kept secrets, to watch you submit to his gun -- to the weapon he has used to murder countless people with.
and here you were, doing as you're told, throating his gun while you play with your pretty cunt. he can hear how wet you are, can see the way you desperately hump your own hand trying to get your fingers deeper and deeper. but they'll never feel as good as his, you both know this.
so all you can do is tearfully look up at him through clumped lashes as you choke and gag on the gun he continues to keep stuffed down your throat.
his cock throbs at the thought of being where his weapon is now. he envies it.
you mutter something, muffled and incomprehensible but he knows what you're saying. he can see the way your pupils blow out, hear the way your breathing grows erratic and choppy. you're trembling and breathless, messily jerking your hips into your own hand as you desperately look up at him -- begging for anything to push you over the edge.
his finger finally lands on the trigger of his gun and he sees your eyes widen but the desperate, teary look you give him only tells him more of what you need.
there's a muted, empty click when he pulls the trigger. the gun is empty, you both know this -- but it sends you over the edge anyway.
simons cock twitches and twitches, balls tight and heavy before he's spurting his load down his thigh at the sight of you cumming on your own fingers and moaning around his gun.
the hand holding the weapon trembles as he cums untouched at the entire scene. you pull your head back, gasping for air before pulling your hand out of your panties.
simon lurches forward, you don't even have time to react before he's taking the sticky, messy, cum-covered fingers into his mouth.
he's on top of you, pressing you down beneath his weight, the gun tossed and forgotten on the bed because now all he can think about is fucking you into the mattress. <3
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chaepink · 1 year ago
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I have a small question! Can we get some time whenever you are up for it, Maybe some more of the Yan!sub boys? c:
pathetic sub!yandere boys ♡ pt. 2
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pathetic yet adorable yandere boys that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask them to do.
wc: 1k+ words | masterlist | part one
dom!reader, previous stalking, unhealthy relationship, pet play, bondage, use of blindfold, mention of strap/cock, mention of choking, mention of marking
note: part two cause part one did so well!
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Yandere subs that are so obsessed with you that they'll do anything you ask, sexual or not. Ask them for some homework answers? They'll steal the answer sheet for the week's homework for you from the teacher's desk undetected. You've been craving certain snacks and tell them that? Weird enough, you find a pile of those snacks on your bed the next day with a note that has a heart on it that lets you know exactly who it's from.
But in bed? That's a whole different story. Believe me when I say that they want to feel weak and small underneath you in bed. Choke them, spank them, edge or overstimulate them, and they'll babble out 'thank you's to whatever pleasure you're giving them. Such a good boy that just wants to be obedient for you.
Tell them to sit? They'll sit mere seconds later, looking up at you for your next command. Tell them to make you feel good? They'll make you cum as if their life depends on it. You're gonna have to yank their hair so that they don't overstimulate you, making them whimper at the pain as they look up at you with sad puppy eyes, asking you what they did wrong.
They're so desperate to please you that they'll hack into your phone to search your search/porn history for stuff that you want to do to them but haven't asked yet. It's not like you haven't caught them doing so either.
You like pet play? You find them in your room with nothing but a collar around their neck, a leash that's connected to said collar on the floor in front of you as if its beckoning you to grab it, a pair of cat/bunny/dog ears on their head that looks so real that its as if they're actually connected to his head, and- oh? whats that buzzing? Turns out that they put in a tail vibrator in themself too! what a surprise! How about you call them a good boy and fuck him until he can't think anymore as a reward? Watch as he mewls like a slut when you take out the vibrator before pushing it back in him.
What about bondage? Well you'll find them tied up oh so prettily on your bed with some red rope that compliments their skin so well. They'll already be prepped, of course, not wanting to waste time on it so that you'll fuck them quicker. Maybe they'll even have a blindfold on which will heighten his other senses. So how about you touch him all over so that he begs for you to just fuck him already. Don't listen to him though, just continue teasing him until he's soaked the blindfold with his tears and as his dick leaks out pre-cum, desperately humping the air to seek any friction. what a slut!
Turn them into such a mess that all they can think about is the way your strap/dick is hitting all the right spots in him as they lay there taking it all so well. Make him scream out in pleasure, the sounds filling the room which would surely end with an angry complaint from your neighbors complaining about the noises the following day. But he doesn't 't care, why would they when you're fucking him so well?
They're so horny that they're willing to tease you in public just so you would punish them. With some friends and he tagged along? He'll innocently grab your hand to place it on the bulge in his pants, making you widen your eyes and glare at him before he reaches forward to grab something. This makes his shirt ride up which just barely shows the pair of lace panties he's wearing underneath that are peeking out from his pants. How about you drag him to the bathroom and finger him until he cums, a hand on his mouth to silence his loud moans, hm?
About to leave the house to go somewhere with a friend? He'll say goodbye to you wearing the sluttiest outfit right when you're about to exit the door, his ass practically out and dick bulging against the fabric. You can't resist how good they look so you quickly text your friend that you have to cancel and to meet up another time before shaking off your belongings and rushing towards him with hunger in your eyes. Sure you feel bad for your friend but thats the last thing on your mind, the outfit on your yandere being the only thing that you're thinking about at the moment. The way you're looking at him makes them feel so small as if they're the prey and you're the predator but oh do they love it so much.
You know their antics are just to rile you up but you can't ignore them, not when you want to make them scream your name so bad and make them cry from pleasure. It's not your fault, really.
It's not like they're complaining either. They'll gladly get on all fours and present their lubed up ass to you the moment you tell them to. They'll turn their head back to look at you with eyes that absolutely begs you to ruin them. They're just a mere toy for you to use for your own pleasure after all.
Do whatever to them, they'll take it all like a good boy. Leave marks on him so that he can be reminded of the previous night, filthy thoughts flooding his head as he gets hard again. He'll stare at them in the mirror, heading tilting up to look at the small bruise around his neck from your choking. The red mark on his waist is obvious, reminding him of just how hard you gripped it to fuck him even deeper and faster.
Everything you do just makes them even more obsessed with you but you don't mind. After all, you're just as obsessed with them as they are with you.
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ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink
╰┈➤ masterlist | rules
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beloveds-embrace · 2 months ago
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I dunno if I've harassed you yet buuuut,
I just read the newest take on the text and they'll be there guard dogish 141, and just. What if an anxious little bird just walks up to one it the group and just squeezes into the crowd and just.
"ignore me I'm about to lose my shit" or just stands there and gives a small hi cause they're overstimmed or need a break or someone's been creepy and they see that people keep a wide berth from said person or group.
Hi I'm excited I hope anything here made a bit of sense. Also possible reverse 'guard dog' distribution system, the small bird doesn't find a dog. The dog finds a bird.
You aren’t harassing me at all! Please don’t ever feel like that 😭💕 i love, love both scenarios, so I’ll do the second one later as well. Thank you for this wonderful ask!
The dim hum of the pub was comforting- warm light glowing against worn wood, the steady murmur of conversations buzzing around you. It had been your usual spot for a quiet drink after a hard week, but tonight was different, and not in a good way.
Someone had been watching you, and not in the harmless, fleeting way most people did. His gaze lingered too long, his smirk too wide, his attempts to approach you far too persistent even when you refused the drink he’d sent towards you. When you’d brushed him off the third time like that, you could see clearly on his face that he didn’t like that.
Men like him were common, but that just made them all the more dangerous.
The weight of his presence was suffocating, so you’d bolted toward the one corner of the room where you felt the most secure. Them.
You’d seen them here before- an unassuming group at first glance, but the way they carried themselves screamed “don’t mess with us.” Four men with their thighs each bigger than your head at the very least, and tonight, they were your only hope.
Standing up and doing your best to ignore the angry gaze practically boring into you, you approached their table cautiously, feeling several pairs of sharp eyes land on you. Mutton chops tilted his head, pretty boy stood from his seat slightly, brow furrowed. Mohawk’s wide grin faltered, replaced with curiosity, while the last one’s gaze, though obscured by his balaclava, was cold and assessing.
You should probably ask for their names. If they let you sit you with them, that is.
“Uh- so sorry to bother,” you started, voice shaking slightly. “But…there’s this guy…” You didn’t need to finish. Balaclava’s attention shifted subtly, big shoulders tightening as his eyes flicked past you. Mohawk’s grin returned, but this time, even in the dim light, you could tell it was dangerous.
“Where?” Mutton chop asked, his voice steady but just as sharp as his eyes
You subtly nodded toward the man at the bar, who was now visibly trying to act like he wasn’t watching your every move. The second he noticed who you were speaking to, his face drained of color. He turned away, gripping his drink like it might shield him.
Pretty boy snorted. “Well, ain’t that something? Big man suddenly doesn’t have the guts, eh?”
“Stay here.” Balaclava said firmly, standing up with the kind of slow, deliberate movement that made your stomach flip. The other three followed suit, each moving with the kind of quiet unity that could only come from working together for years. Maybe they were a team? You knew there was a military base somewhere nearby, could they be from there?
Still, you obeyed and stayed behind, heart thundering in your chest as they approached the man- not from fear, but from excitement. Ghost leaned in, his imposing frame towering over the guy. Whatever was said was too low for you to hear, but the way your harasser paled, hands shaking as he grabbed his coat and bolted from the pub, told you enough.
When they returned and introduced themselves, Soap clapped you lightly on the back with a bold grin. “Dinnae think he’ll be botherin’ you again, lass.”
Price pulled a chair out for you, right with their table. “Sit. You’re safe here. Anyone who’s got a problem with you’s got a problem with us now.”
You sank into the chair, warmth spreading through your chest. You didn’t know them, not really, but in that moment, you felt like you’d just gained four overprotective, no-nonsense bodyguards. Is this what celebrities felt like? It was amazing.
“Thank you, really,” you repeated, giving them such a grateful, blinding smile. “Again, I’m so sorry for bothering you like that. It was just-“
Gaz shook his head, not letting you finish. “No need to, love. We don’t mind at all. Just enjoy your night now, yeah? No more of pricks like him bothering you.”
And judging by the way Soap was already offering to buy you a drink and Ghost’s subtle but watchful eye, you were honestly more than okay with that.
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taurasiluvr · 8 months ago
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BABY IT AIN'T REALLY CHEATING IF HE DON'T SEE ── BUECKERS⁵
how you can help palestine prequel part three
★ based on dope love by gucci mane. you have an annoying boyfriend who always seems to be jealous of paige. and you've never even given him a reason to not trust you . . . of course not!
 ⠀ ── ⠀warnings ;; nsfw under the cut, mdni. smut with a little plot, cheating (on irrelevant bf), asshole!paige, fingering, exhibitionism (sorta if that's what you can even call it).
 ⠀ ── ⠀word count ;; 3.6k
 ⠀ ── ⠀rylin's notes ;; requests are open for those who want to send them in :p
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"you're embarrassing me," the words came out of your mouth, your tone annoyed as you glared up at your boyfriend. you couldn't believe that he asked paige for a 1v1 – and on top of that, he lost.
now he was acting all pissy, pacing back and forth on the court with his hands on his hips. paige, your best friend since forever, stood a few feet away, trying to hide her smirk. obviously, she shouldn't be intimidated by your boyfriend, who was supposed to be confident and supportive, not a sore loser.
"maybe if you hadn't underestimated her," you continued, your voice cutting through his grumbling. "you know how good she is, she's literally d1."
paige smirked slightly as she shrugged, taking a sip out of the red solo cup. "it's just a game, guys. it's not a big deal,"
your boyfriend shot her a glare, then turned to you. "why are you taking her side?"
"cus you're acting like a damn child," you snapped back. "it's not her fault you lost."
your boyfriend’s face flushed an even deeper shade of red. he stopped pacing and turned to face you, his hands still on his hips. the music and laughter from the party around you seemed to fade into the background as his eyes searched yours for any sort of validation.
"i just... didn't think she'd take it so seriously," he mumbled, his voice lacking its usual confidence.
paige chuckled softly, shaking her head. "i didn't take it seriously, man. it's just a game," she repeated, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement as she glanced at you, licking her lips slightly.
"just a game?" he repeated as he glared at the blonde. "i just got beat by a girl! i'm gonna get absolutely flamed in the groupchat,"
"hey, she's also d1! you don't even play basketball," you retorted, feeling your frustration rise. "it's not like you lost to someone off the street. paige is amazing at this."
"whatever," he muttered, looking away and crossing his arms. "still feels like shit, specially cause you're my girl and shit,"
paige raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the interaction more than she should. "dude, it's just a game. and besides, who cares what your friends think? they'll get over it."
"easy for you to say," he snapped back, his voice growing louder as he began walking toward her. "you didn't just embarrass yourself."
you stepped between them, your patience wearing thin. "enough. you're acting like a sore loser and it's not a good look."
he glared at you, the hurt evident in his eyes. "why are you always defending her? it's like you take her side over mine every fuckin' time."
"because you're acting ridiculous!" you shot back. "paige is my best friend, and you're being unfair to her and to me. this has nothing to do with sides and more to do with you and your weird competition with her."
he clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking back and forth between you and paige. "weird competition? baby, it's obvious she has a thing for you, i mean jesus-"
you immediately let out a groan. "are we really gonna talk about this now, again? i told you-"
"i don't care, she obviously does!" he finally snapped. you grabbed his arm as he continued shouting about whatever he thinks is going on between you the blonde.
paige watched as you dragged your boyfriend to the side, letting out an amused laugh as she shook her head. she went back inside to get a refill, finding aubrey and nika.
"you gotta stop playing with him," nika stifled a laugh as she glanced outside, watching you and your boyfriend laughing. "i feel bad. we all watched him get absolutely obliterated by you."
aubrey laughed, nodding. "that was so fucking embarrassing, my god. i got an ick and i don't even like him."
paige shrugged, a smirk playing on her lips. "can't help that i'm good at basketball. and it's not like i'm doing it on purpose. he's the one who keeps trying to prove himself."
nika shook her head, still grinning. "well, he's definitely not doing himself any favors."
aubrey took a sip from her cup, raising an eyebrow. "you think she's actually gonna stay with him much longer? i mean, look at them."
they all glanced outside where you were still talking animatedly with your boyfriend. his face was red with frustration, while yours was a mix of exasperation and annoyance.
paige sighed, her expression softening a bit. "nah, probably. she deserves someone who doesn't get all insecure and jealous over nothing."
aubrey and nika exchanged looks, their faces entertained. nika spoke up, "paige we're not dumb, we know you've fucked before."
paige shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "yeah well... they were on break," she look a sip of her drink as she glanced up at her friends, their expressions unconvinced.
nika raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "on a break, huh? and does he know about this?"
paige hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "nah, he doesn't."
nika let out a low whistle. "that's risky, paige. he looks like the type to not mind... you know, beating your ass."
paige laughed as she shrugged. "yeah and he's also like, 5'8."
"if he tried, he'd get humbled," aubrey glanced toward her blonde friend, a smirk playing on her lips. "again," she added.
paige chuckled, her confidence unwavering. "exactly. i'm not too worried about him. besides, it's not like it was a regular thing. it was a one-time thing."
nika leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "still, you should be careful. if he finds out, things could get messy."
paige nodded, acknowledging the risk. "yeah, but it's done, and i can't undo it, i just have to handle things as they come."
aubrey took a sip from her drink, her eyes glinting with mischief. "you know, if you play your cards right, you might not have to worry about him for much longer."
"yeah, i know," she smirked as she glanced at you, you were still arguing with your boyfriend. "i know,"
as they continued talking, you and your boyfriend reentered the house, your faces still showing signs of the recent argument. paige watched as you tried to shake off the tension, joining your friends and attempting to immerse yourself in the party's atmosphere.
nika leaned in, whispering to paige, "think she'll be okay?"
Paige nodded, her eyes following you as you made your way to the group. "she's a big girl, i don't think she cares as much she pretends to."
you approached, giving paige a grateful smile. "hey, guys. sorry about that."
aubrey waved it off, her demeanor light and carefree. "no worries. we're just glad you're back."
nika chimed in, "yeah, we missed you. come on, let's have some fun."
you felt a wave of relief wash over you as your friends welcomed you back with open arms. paige stayed close, her presence a steady comfort. the rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and camaraderie, the earlier tension fading into the background.
 ⠀ ── ⠀
"and he's so damn clingy, it gets on my nerves," you resisted an eyeroll as you spoke, doing your night time routine in the foggy mirror. paige stood behind you, her hands on your hips and her chin on your shoulder, watching you through the reflection.
"yeah?" she mumbled as you nodded. her hair was wet from the shower, her eyes were red from the exhaustion of the whole day but right now – she didn't feel a tinge of weariness.
you sighed, putting down your toothbrush and meeting paige's eyes in the mirror. "yeah, it’s like he always needs to know where i am, what i’m doing, who i’m with. It’s suffocating."
paige grip on your hips tightened slightly, her presence grounding you. "sounds exhausting," she murmured, her voice gentle. "you deserve to feel free, not like you’re constantly under surveillance."
you nodded, leaning back into her embrace. "exactly. and tonight... all that jealousy over a basketball game? it's just too much."
paige pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, her breath warm against your skin. "you deserve better than that. someone who trusts you and supports you, not someone who’s always questioning you."
you turned to face her, her hands sliding around to rest on the small of your back. "i know. it’s just hard. we've been together for a while, and i don’t wanna hurt him. but i can’t keep going like this."
paige's eyes softened, her thumb brushing gently against your side as her hands slid down them. "you have to take care of yourself first. it’s not selfish to want to be happy."
you smiled as her eyes dilated, her tongue sticking out to wet her lips. "he needs to trust you, cause... you know, you are," paige's voice came out teasing.
you let out a playful scoff as you pushed her away, a smirk playing on your lips. "gonna bring that up again, p?"
"what?" she laughed as her hands made their way back to your hips. "really gonna tell that i didn't rock your world? you were crying and everything, my ego's never gonna that go."
"i know," you felt your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping up your neck. "don't need to remind me every chance you get."
paige's laughter was warm and genuine as she pulled you closer again, her forehead resting against yours. "just making sure you remember,"
you rolled your eyes, but your smile widened. "how could i forget? you never let me."
"and i never will," you turned back around, continuing your routine. "i still think about it, you know?"
paige's smirk widened as she saw the seriousness in your expression through the foggy reflection. "yeah?"
"yeah," you repeated as you met her eyes through the reflection. "all the time."
there was a moment of silence as you continued your routine, paige was lost in thought as she zoned out. "does he fuck you like i do?"
the question came out of nowhere and you almost choked on the mouthwash. you spit out and paige watched your expression carefully. the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken as you processed her words, unsure of how to respond.
paige's gaze held yours steadily, her expression unreadable yet intense. she seemed to be searching for something in your reaction, her smirk fading into a more serious demeanor.
"no, he doesn't."
paige's smirk immediately came back with the answer, her hands pulling you into her chest. "yeah, i knew that."
she didn't any more of an answer, her lips found your shoulder as she began kissing up to your neck. as her lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions. the familiarity of her touch, coupled with the depth of your connection, ignited a fire within you that burned brighter than ever before.
paige's hands roamed gently over your back, her touch leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake.
her breath tickled your skin as she whispered against your ear, her voice husky with desire. "gonna do you so good, baby,"
as paige’s breath sent shivers down your spine, her words were a promise, igniting a flame of anticipation within you. you turned in her embrace, your eyes meeting hers with a mix of longing and uncertainty. paige's gaze softened, her fingers trailing lightly up your arms to cup your face.
“i’ve missed you,” she murmured, her thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek.
“i’ve missed you too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
the tension between you was palpable, the weight of unspoken feelings hanging in the air. paige leaned in, her lips capturing yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that sent a rush of warmth through your body. you melted into her, your hands finding their way to her damp hair, pulling her closer.
paige's kiss deepened, her hands sliding down your back to grip your hips, anchoring you to her. the taste of mint lingered on your lips from the mouthwash, mingling with the familiar flavor of her.
with a gentle push, paige guided you back against the sink, her lips never leaving yours. her hands explored your body with a familiarity that made your heart race, every touch a reminder of the history you shared. as her kisses trailed down your neck, you let out a soft moan, your fingers tangling in her hair.
“oh p,” you breathed, your voice a mix of need and desperation.
she paused, lifting her head to meet your gaze, her eyes dark with desire. “tell me what you want, baby.”
“want you,” you confessed, your cheeks flushing with the raw honesty of your words.
paige's lips curved into a satisfied smile, her hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist. “you’re going to have me, princess.”
with a swift motion, she lifted you into her arms as she carried you to your bed. her mouth claimed yours again, the kiss hungry and demanding. your fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt, desperate to feel more of her as she dropped you on the bed.
paige broke the kiss long enough to pull her shirt over her head, her eyes never leaving yours. her bare chest pressed against yours as she kissed you again, her hands working to slide off your shorts. you arched into her touch, the sensation of her hands on you sending waves of pleasure through your body.
as your shorts hit the floor, paige's fingers found their way to your core, teasing you through the fabric of your underwear. you gasped, your hips bucking against her hand, craving more. paige's smirk returned, her thumb circling your clit with agonizing slowness.
she pushed you further up the bed, her body following closely as she settled between your legs. paige's eyes never left yours, her gaze intense and filled with desire. her fingers continued their slow, torturous teasing, making you writhe beneath her.
“paige, please,” you begged, your voice a desperate whisper.
her smirk softened into a sweet smile, and she leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. “love hearing you beg,” she murmured against your mouth before trailing kisses down your neck, her hands slipping beneath your underwear to finally touch your bare skin.
with a gentle but firm touch, she slid your underwear down, her fingers finding their way to your wetness. you moaned, your head falling back as she began to pleasure you, her movements deliberate and skilled. paige knew exactly how to drive you insane, her fingers curling inside you in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge.
you let out a shuddering breath, your body arching into her touch. she set a steady rhythm, her thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts of her fingers. every stroke sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, each one more intense than the last.
your hands tangled in her hair, pulling her closer as she kissed her way down your body. her lips left a trail of fire on your skin, each touch igniting a deeper desire within you. when she reached your breasts, her mouth closed over one nipple, sucking and nibbling gently.
the dual sensations of her mouth and her fingers had you spiraling quickly towards the edge. your breaths came in short gasps, your body trembling with the effort to hold back.
then, your phone began buzzing next to you. you let out an annoyed huff – you already knew who it was. you chose to ignore it, but paige had other plans.
"answer it, princess," she mumbled as she sat up, meeting your gaze.
you stared at her, bewildered, your body still trembling from her touch. "paige," you whispered, a mix of frustration and disbelief in your voice.
paige's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "answer it," she repeated, her voice low and commanding. "want him to hear how good i make you feel."
your heart raced, both from the lingering pleasure and the audacity of her request. with trembling hands, you reached for the phone, your eyes never leaving paige's. she watched you intently, her fingers still moving slowly inside you, maintaining the agonizing pleasure.
you hit the answer button, bringing the phone to your ear. "hello?" you managed to say, your voice shaky.
your boyfriend's voice came through the line, filled with concern and irritation. "where are you? why haven't you answered my texts?"
paige's smirk widened, and she pressed a kiss to your shoulder, her fingers quickening their pace slightly. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your head falling back against the pillow.
"'m... busy," you replied, your voice strained.
"busy? doin' what?" he demanded, suspicion lacing his words.
paige’s other hand moved to tease your nipple, her thumb flicking over it with expert precision. you let out a soft gasp, unable to hold it back. "just... with friends, we're at my..." you managed to say, your breath hitching. "apartment,"
there was a pause on the other end of the line, your boyfriend clearly picking up on the unusual tone in your voice. "you okay? you sound... different."
paige's lips curled into a wicked smile, her fingers curling inside you, hitting just the right spot. you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, your body arching into her touch. "oh fuck," you let out before you sighed, putting a hand over your mouth.
"i'm fine," you lied, your voice trembling. "just... having a good time."
Your boyfriend’s voice grew more insistent. "where are you? i want to see you."
paige leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, "tell him you're with me."
you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the conversation despite the overwhelming sensations. "'m with paige," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
"paige?" he repeated, his tone a mix of confusion and frustration. "what the hell is going on?"
"nothing!" you shouted, the frustration overtaking your senses. "my god, let me fucking breathe. we're just watching a movie and we're tired, can't get a second alone,"
paige's smirk grew as she listened to your conversation, her fingers still teasing you, maintaining a torturous pace that kept you on the edge. she nibbled gently on your neck, her breath warm against your skin, and you fought to keep your voice steady.
on the other end of the line, your boyfriend’s frustration was palpable. “why didn’t you just say that? you’ve been acting so weird lately.”
You took a shaky breath, trying to focus on the words and not the intense pleasure paige was giving you. “i’m not acting weird. just need some space sometimes.”
“space? is that what you call ignoring my calls and hanging out with paige all the time?” he snapped.
paige fingers quickened slightly, pushing you closer to the edge, beginning to completely finger-fuck you. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, your hips bucking involuntarily. “’m not ignoring you,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to sound convincing. “i think i just… need a break.”
“a break?” he echoed, his voice growing louder. “what kind of break?”
paige leaned in, her voice a whisper in your ear. “tell him you’re taking a break from him.”
you swallowed hard, the words sticking in your throat. “think we need a break,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“what?” he shouted, disbelief and anger mingling in his tone. “are you fucking serious?”
“yeah,” you said more firmly, finding your resolve.
he began shouting but you were too engulfed in her fingers, your breaths coming out in shudders. the phone fell out of your hand as you moaned, your back arching into her touch.
paige chose that moment to push you over the edge, her fingers and lips working in perfect harmony to send you spiraling into a powerful orgasm. you cried out, your body shaking with the force of it, the annoyed shouts still coming from the phone.
paige caught the phone, her eyes locking with yours as she brought it to her ear. "she busy right now," she said, her tone unapologetic and firm. "she'll call you in the morning,"
with that, she ended the call, tossing the phone aside as she gathered you in her arms. you were still trembling, your body buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. paige's touch was gentle now, soothing as she held you close.
"you gonna call him in the morning?" she teased as you laid on her chest. you stifled a laugh as you shook your head.
"probably, he's probably crying right now."
she shrugged, "i would too if i lost a bad bitch like you,"
you couldn't help but smile at her words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "you're ridiculous," you murmured, nuzzling closer into her embrace.
paige's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, her touch comforting and tender. "yeah, but you love it," she replied, her voice soft.
you sighed contentedly, letting the calm after the storm wash over you. "yeah, i do."
you stayed like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world fading away. eventually, the exhaustion of the day caught up with you, and your eyes grew heavy.
"get some sleep," paige murmured, her voice a gentle lullaby. "we'll figure everything out in the morning."
you nodded sleepily, feeling safe and secure in her arms. "goodnight, p."
"goodnight, beautiful," she whispered, holding you close as you drifted off to sleep.
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if you enjoyed, any interaction is greatly appreciated!
with love, rylin 𝜗𝜚
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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago
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Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!
I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3
Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader
summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 
a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao
warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13
wc: 3.5k ish
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.
Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 
Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 
Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 
It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 
"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 
"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."
Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 
"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 
"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"
"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 
"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."
"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."
"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 
"I could do this all day, princesa. " 
You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 
~~~
You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 
You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 
He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 
You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 
That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 
You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.
"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 
"You okay?" 
He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 
You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."
He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."
"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."
~~~
As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 
Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 
Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 
It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 
You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.
You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.
You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 
It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 
"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 
You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 
"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 
He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 
"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."
Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 
"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"
"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 
"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 
"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."
The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 
And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 
Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 
~~~
He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.
You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.
He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 
He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 
You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 
"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 
You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 
You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 
"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 
He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 
He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 
"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 
Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."
The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 
You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 
~~~
It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 
He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 
Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 
He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 
When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 
So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 
He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 
"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 
You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 
"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 
Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 
"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 
"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 
"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 
You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 
He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 
You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 
"Do you want to?" 
You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 
"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 
You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 
"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 
Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 
You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 
"Fuck, Miguel." 
"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 
You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 
"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 
"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."
His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 
" M-Miguel …"
He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 
" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 
You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 
"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."
"...fuuck you."
" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."
"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.
"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."
" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 
"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 
"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 
He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 
You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 
"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."
You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 
You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 
He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 
Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 
"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 
"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 
"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."
All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 
"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 
_
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12K notes · View notes
bandgie · 10 months ago
Note
Would you maybe be interested in this?
https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share
a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist
Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.
warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao
4.3k words
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"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."
Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."
"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."
Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.
They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.
You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."
The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"
"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"
It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."
You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."
No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.
"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"
Shouldn't you be asking them that?
But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.
"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."
You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.
Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.
"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"
He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.
"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."
Minho grunts.
"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.
You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal. 
It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.
"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"
"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow. 
"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”
"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"
"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time. 
You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.
Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.
"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."
Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.
Mint, you think.
The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?
You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.
Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.
"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"
Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.
Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.
"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."
"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.
"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.
"I...I want to."
"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.
The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.
You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"
Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"
Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"
"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.
It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.
"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”
Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now. 
Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod. 
“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”
You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down. 
It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation. 
“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles. 
His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits. 
“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal. 
Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt. 
“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.
You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell. 
Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.
Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.
“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies. 
“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless. 
The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”
Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead. 
“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.
“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.” 
It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”
“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub. 
You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.
It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth. 
Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”
“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”
The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high. 
“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.
“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”
Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body. 
“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.
You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.
Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out. 
“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”
Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.
“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”
“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.
Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”
“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.
His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.
“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”
Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum. 
You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him. 
When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.
It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid. 
“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”
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specshroom · 8 months ago
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Ok so what do you think would make a monster INSTANTLY attracted to someone. And then how do you think they would vocalize/show it?With said monsters being orcs, merfolk, centaurs, driders, werewolves, and vampires
Okokok so these are all obviously just my opinion :) but here we go:
🧌 I think in orc culture the women initiate romantically and sexually just as much as the men, as opposed to human culture where the men generally are expected to initiate more. So I think any orc would find it hot if you were the one to flirt and initiate contact first.
- They like humans who know what they want and go for it.
- They like humans who can hold their liquor. They just think it's hot.
- They like humans who are a little vulgar. Who swear and shout and are a little rowdy maybe?
- So if you want to attract an orc your best bet would be to just go up to one and flirt heavily with them. If they like you they'll think it's hot that you show your attraction so boldly and they'll flirt back just as hard.
🧜Merfolk generally keep to themselves and their underwater cities. For a merfolk to be swimming in shallow waters means they're probably curious about the surface already.
- These merfolk will be instantly intrigued by a human who is as interested in them as the merfolk is with the surface. They just really like humans who try and talk to them, frantically ask them questions about their species and just seem enamored with their existence.
- A merfolk will fall for a human who brings them cool human stuff they've never seen before and enthusiastically tells them stories about the surface world.
- They'd appreciate humans who aren't scared to swim with them. They know the water is not a humans natural place and that it takes a lot of trust for them to be so vulnerable. They'd straight up take that as a confession of love from the human.
🐎 In my head centaurs are often depicted as strong stern types. Like noble warriors and such so I think they'd admire humans who are resourceful and independent.
- They won't like any human who disrespects nature. Killing unnecessarily or destroying/ littering wildlife is an absolute no go.
- They like outdoorsy humans who like nature walks or mountain climbing, that kind of shit. Anything from fishing to bird watching really.
- They find archery very attractive for some reason.
- Centaurs are known for being steely and almost cold so if one likes you they probably won't show it immediately but slowly over time by engaging in your shared interests.
🕷️ I think driders are often starved for affection. In my headcanon, driders don't get much affection from their parents because they're very independent and able from a young age so they're never really coddled as children.
- So I think driders would like a human who treats them very gently and sweetly despite not needing too at all because they're fierce hunters.
- They're not the most approachable monsters with their eight beady eyes and venom filled chelicerae. They don't initiate with humans much because they know they can be frightening. It can be isolating for them so they'd love if a human showed no fear towards them and instead treated them as if they were cute rather than scary.
- They'd be absolutely smitten if a human coddled and babied them, calling them grossly sweet petnames like "cutey", "darling" or "baby" while caressing their face gently. Just treating them with such care even though they could kill the human very easily. They might even cry from the affection.
🦇 I think vampires appreciate humans who aren't childish but still have a love for life. People who are lively and curious about the world but still mature and driven.
- I think humans who are exciting and have a thirst for life is what attracts vampires cus it helps them reignite their own love for life which may have dwindled after so many years of being immortal.
- Humans who are reckless with their own lives are a turn off. Vampires already have to experience losing many close ones due to immortality so I don't think they'd appreciate someone who disregards their life or the lives of others carelessly.
- Vampires are harder to categorise because they all come from different backgrounds and stuff but I think if a vampire liked a human most of them would have to know one for a while before bringing up anything serious. They understand the stakes (hah) of falling in love with humans and act accordingly.
🐺 Dog people. Werewolves like dog people. Sorry I know it's basic but I think werewolves are often simple creatures so what attracts them is relatively simple. Nothing wrong with that.
- They see a human walking their dog and they just go "I have a chance!!"
- They like humans who smell like their dog or have dog fur on their clothes, they think it's cute.
- They think it's so cute when humans baby talk dogs while giving them pets. It makes their own tails wag sometimes.
- Now that doesn't mean they like being treated like dogs cus they don't. They just think a dog person is a huge green flag in humans.
- Don't worry, this doesn't mean they hate cat people but they are more likely to flirt and initiate conversation with someone who has a dog or who smells like they own a dog.
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wholemeallbread · 7 days ago
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... TOXIC BOYFRIENDS AND EXES / ꩜
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with ... reo mikage, itoshi sae, oliver aiku x gn!reader
warnings ... cheating (oliver), gaslighting/manipulation (reo, oliver), guilt tripping (reo), stalking (reo, sort of sae), mentions of makeup and heels (oliver), slightly suggestive (oliver), alcohol/being drunk mention (oliver)
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DANGEROUSLY DESPERATE ꩜ REO MIKAGE
it's clear throughout the entire relationship that reo was head over heels for you. he would take you anywhere and everywhere, shower you with gifts and treat you like royalty. at first, it was cute. but things soon became unbearable when he started cancelling your plans himself under the thesis of "you never spend time with me" or "am i not important to you anymore?" or even "do you even love me?"
on your third attempt on breaking up with him, reo finally seemed to get the hint. right after the break up, you seemed to have more freedom than ever, making quick work of hanging out with your friends again and getting to enjoy your hobbies once more.
he did not like that. he started blowing up your phone, spamming you with photos of him crying, cutting up and destroying your stuff and other things that you'd not like to name. some worry you, some have you close to taking him back, but either way it's having an extreme toll on your mental health. he'll even show up to wherever you work or study, causing a scene and threatening to sue every single person in the building until you're stood right in front of him. somehow, you end up being more miserable compared to when you were formerly in a relationship with him.
one day you just decide to yourself: "why do i even bother anymore?" and block him on everything, including every single one of his spare phones and changing your number. you make it extremely obvious that you're dating someone else in case he has other ways of accessing you, a clear sign that you're no longer falling for his manipulation, no matter how shattered he may seem to be. that really could've been the small change you made that saved your life.
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CENTRE OF THE UNIVERSE ꩜ ITOSHI SAE
you're well aware that sae is a man of few words when it comes to romance. sure, that's fine, because it always shows through other ways. maybe he finds it difficult to express it in words? or he's just waiting for the right time? not at all. it's a subtle reminder that he has options. he could have any other girl or guy or anyone out there in the world, and you're nothing special to him. you could easily get replaced whenever he'd like, and you shouldn't get so attached or needy.
that's when he starts ignoring your messages and calls. that's when he mocks your attempts at going on a date with him. and that's when he finally snaps at you, making the exact same mistake that he did with his younger brother; pushing you out of his one and only safe space and shutting you out. you're obviously heartbroken, opting to never fall in love with a "nonchalant" guy ever again, while he's living his best life, getting rich and getting smothered in love by that one teammate who seemed more like a boyfriend than anything.
sae knows that he has only himself to care about, but for some reason, he finds himself itching to figure out whatever's happening in your life. surely you're not happy. surely it's not going to be as good as it was before. nowadays when you post, he only ever sees you smile; it's brighter than ever before, and they'll never be directed towards him. you're focused on your own little circle of friends, your own little bubble – you're the centre of your own little world and he's not in it.
it's too late for him to fix his mistake once he realises that you loved him for him, not who he was or how much he had. is there really another person out there that could love him the way that you did?
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BLATANT CHEATING ꩜ OLIVER AIKU
oliver is a shameless, shameless man. you're aware of his horrendous dating history, but he convinced you that you were "the one". all of his female friends were apparently wiped from his phone, and he'll give you all of the attention that you need. it starts off with alleged double dates – they were fun, and the other couple was usually nice. after a while, you start becoming the first person that he drops off back home. what's worse is that the other girl is in the front seat, not you.
things start to escalate once you start seeing makeup or shoes occupying your space in the passenger seat of his car. it's not like they've been forgotten, because somebody's clearly using them; the makeup gets replaced when it runs out, and the heels change every other week or so; and one thing that you do know is that they're not yours.
"didn't you say you were thinking about an open relationship?" he claims to defend himself. actually, you weren't. it was him who came up with the idea, and you said no since you never really considered such a thing, but you'd let him know if you changed your mind. keywords: no and changed your mind. not only did he not listen to you at all, but he went out of his way to go on multiple dates without even telling you.
soon, you notice that he's switching off his phone at night, coming back home absolutely hammered, or not even returning until monday when it's the weekend. lipstick stains on his cheek? they're his mom's. scratch marks on his back? uh... he got attacked by a cat- no. a tiger. text messages from someone called "bae ❤️". that's... that's his sister, obviously. and the other identical one with the pink heart is his other sister too.
after you break up, there's already parties filling up his instagram stories. nine times out of ten, he's got a different girl right by his side, kissing his cheek or touching him all over. it's gross. you can't even bring yourself to look at them anymore, not because you're jealous, but it pisses you off seeing such disgusting public acts of "affection" in your face.
a month later, you get a few missed calls and a text asking you to "come over". obviously, you decline.
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orangeblossomsintheair · 25 days ago
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ILLICIT AFFAIRS (2/3) | CS55
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summary : You tap on his profile again, almost like you’re double-checking to make sure this isn’t some kind of glitch. But no. Apparently, it’s real. You thought it was just a one-night stand. Maybe it still is. But who the hell follows their one-night stand’s Instagram?
or: Carlos proposes a deal to counter your argument that no he cannot catch a two-hour plane ride for a bootycall— phone sex.
wc : 7.5k
an : uh.. hi again 🫶 this was super fun to write!! :> im so glad ppl seemed to enjoy pt 1
He’s hyperaware of the heat radiating from your skin, the faint sheen of sweat glistening against the dim light, and the way your fingers lazily trace patterns across his chest.
When it’s over, Carlos feels the weight of you collapse onto his chest, your soft breaths mingling with his own as both of you struggle to steady yourselves.
He knows this should be the part where he gets up, grabs a drink, maybe offers you a towel.
Instead, his hands wander down your back, his fingertips finding those tiny dimples near the base of your spine. He traces slow, absentminded circles, grinning when you squirm against him with a halfhearted giggle that bubbles up like a melody he didn’t know he liked.
��Ticklish, huh?” he teases, his voice low and teasing, though it lacks the sharpness he usually reserves for these fleeting encounters.
“Maybe,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled and sleepy.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
It’s the kind of thing he doesn’t normally do.
Too intimate, too dangerous. But with you, it feels natural, easy.
And therein lies the problem.
He pulls out, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead when you let out a quiet whine.
With a practiced motion, he removes the condom, ties it off, and tosses it into the bin before slipping back into bed beside you, not even a minute later.
The two of you lie there in the quiet, the air between you filled with the soft sound of your breathing.
Carlos stares at the ceiling, his mind racing even as his body feels like it’s sinking into the mattress.
This was supposed to be simple.
One night. No strings.
But you’re fun. Too fun, really.
It's not that he’s never met women who are funny, or ones who’ve turned an evening into something more than just a tangle of bodies.
It’s just that, for the most part, that’s all it is. An unspoken agreement that they'll share the night, and then part ways. A blank, if not lustful, exchange.
You, on the other hand, have spent the whole night surprising him, throwing him off-kilter in a way he didn’t think he’d enjoy.
The banter, the teasing, the way you’d wrinkle your nose at him when you didn’t believe his answers.
It all stuck with him in a way he knows it shouldn’t.
“You want tiramisu?” he asks suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence.
You lift your head, your sleepy eyes meeting his with a confused smile. “What?”
“Tiramisu,” he repeats, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Do you still want some?”
Your laugh is so unexpected and genuine that it catches him off guard. It’s light, carefree, and the way your nose scrunches in that way he's becoming to fond makes his chest tighten.
“I just… gave you the best sex of your life,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow, your grin mischievous. “And you’re offering me dessert?”
Carlos raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “What can I say? I’m a man of priorities.”
“Priorities, huh?” You snort, shaking your head. “So what, tiramisu’s your way of saying ‘thanks for the good time’?”
“Something like that.” He shrugs, though the glint in his eyes betray his amusement.
You narrow your eyes at him, but there’s no real malice in your gaze. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously charming,” he counters without missing a beat, his grin turning cocky.
You roll your eyes, but the way you settle back against his chest tells him you’re not as annoyed as you pretend to be.
And that’s when it hits him, the thought sinking like a stone in his gut.
He likes this. Likes you.
Maybe not romantically. Not yet at least. But definitely more than he should.
The realization is unwelcome, gnawing at the edges of his carefully constructed rules.
This is a one-night stand. That’s all it’s supposed to be.
But here you are, lying on his chest like you belong there, laughing at his dumb jokes and making his heart flip in a way that feels too good to ignore.
The thought itself makes him sick.
“Alright,” you say suddenly, breaking him out of his spiral. “Fine. Let’s get tiramisu.”
He blinks at you, startled by your casual agreement. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you nod, grinning. “But only if you admit I was better than you.”
Carlos groans, his head tipping back against the pillow. “I’m never admitting that.”
You laugh again, soft and sweet, and Carlos knows, despite himself, that he’s in trouble.
He places the order moments later.
You’re still sprawled on the bed, a lazy grin playing on your lips.
“Do you always use tiramisu as a post-sex strategy?” you ask, your voice light but curious.
He smirks, sitting on the edge of the bed and tossing his phone onto the nightstand. “Only for people who deserve it.”
You snort, rolling onto your stomach to prop your chin on your hands. “Lucky me.”
“Lucky me,” he counters, glancing over his shoulder at you. The way your hair falls across your face, messy and untamed, makes his chest tighten.
When the dessert arrives, Carlos grabs it from the door, careful not to let the guy bringing it up see the faint red marks on his neck.
He returns with the elaborate cloche, holding it up triumphantly. “Food is served.”
You both sit cross-legged on the bed, the plate between you.
Carlos hands you a fork, watching as you take your first bite. Your eyes widen in exaggerated delight.
“Wow. This might be better than sex,” you joke, though the mischievous glint in your eye says otherwise.
Carlos chuckles, shaking his head. “You wound me again.”
“Well, maybe if you’d ordered two...” you tease, but your tone softens as you gesture for him to take his own bite.
The tiramisu is good. Great, even. But Carlos barely notices.
He’s too focused on the way you laugh when you get a bit of cream on your nose, or how your lips curve as you savor each bite.
You’re funny, in a way that feels effortless. It’s not just the jokes or the teasing; it’s the way you bring a lightness to the room, the way you make him feel like this moment is the only thing that matters.
And there's that thought again.
He shouldn’t be feeling this way.
He barely even knows you.
Carlos watches you scrape the last bit of tiramisu from the plate, your eyes gleaming with triumph as you lick the fork clean.
He leans back against the headboard, arms crossed, a mock glare plastered across his face.
“Didn’t even save me the last bite,” he says, shaking his head. “Unreal.”
“You snooze, you lose,” you reply smugly, placing the empty plate on the nightstand with a flourish.
“I was letting you enjoy it,” Carlos argues, sitting up straighter. “It’s called being a gentleman. Look it up.”
You snort, rolling your eyes. “A gentleman wouldn’t sulk over dessert.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t have to sulk if someone had manners,” he shoots back, a playful grin tugging at his lips.
You throw your head back, laughing, and Carlos feels a strange pang in his chest.
He quickly smothers it, keeping his expression light, his tone teasing.
“Don’t worry,” you say between giggles. “I’ll order you a second one. You’ll survive.”
“Don’t bother,” he says, waving you off dramatically. “I’ll just starve. Waste away. Die in this very bed.”
“Oh, stop it,” you say, swatting his arm. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Dramatic? Me?” He feigns shock, pressing a hand to his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “I’m the picture of restraint.”
You narrow your eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Restraint? Coming from the guy who ate my pussy out earlier like a starved man?”
“That’s called quality service,” he says, completely deadpan. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Quality service,” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
He smiles, nodding.
This is what you deserve.
Lighthearted fun, no heavy emotions weighing you down.
He’s an expert at keeping things that way, at making sure there’s nothing to hold onto when the moment ends.
It’s what he promised you. And it’s what he’s going to give you.
Because anything more would be unfair.
Carlos slides out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb you as you stretch languidly under the covers.
His shirt, now crumpled, is pulled over his head in one swift motion, followed by his jeans.
He pauses for a moment, running a hand through his hair, the weight of the night settling on him like a second skin.
You watch him with a raised brow, propped up on your elbow. “I thought I was supposed to be the one getting kicked out?”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he glances at you, shaking his head. “It’s a hotel, not my permanent residence,” he retorts, his voice tinged with amusement. “I’ll go.”
The playfulness in your tone doesn’t escape him, and he can’t help but snort softly. “Besides, you look too comfortable to be evicted.”
You laugh, tucking the sheets around you. “Chivalry isn’t dead, huh?”
“Not tonight,” he quips, grabbing his wallet and keys from the nightstand.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
The weight of reality hangs in the air, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you watch as he slips on his shoes, movements practiced and deliberate.
“You don’t have to, you know,” you say finally, your voice softer now. “Leave, I mean.”
He pauses at the door, his hand resting on the handle. “I do,” he replies, looking back at you with a small, almost sad smile. “But thanks for making tonight worth it.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s a warmth to your expression. “You’re a sap, you know that?”
“Guilty,” he says, offering you a mock tip-of-the-hat, before stepping out.
As the door clicks shut behind him, Carlos exhales, the cool night air hitting him as he makes his way down the hall.
His chest feels tight, but he pushes the feeling aside, forcing himself to focus on the sound of his footsteps echoing against the hotel’s tiled floor.
It’s better this way, he tells himself. Simple. Clean. No messy feelings to untangle in the morning.
—-
The next morning, Carlos slowly stirs awake, groaning as the sunlight filters through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room.
His muscles feel heavy, his head a little foggy.
Last night is a blur, but the warmth of it lingers. The weight of your presence, the quiet moments between laughs, the way your eyes shone...
He stretches, cracking his back, but then, like a sudden punch to the gut, it hits him.
The NDA.
“Shit,” he mutters, sitting up so fast it makes his head spin.
He runs a hand over his face, the realization sinking in.
How could he forget that?
He’s been drilled on it, the legal side of things, the contracts, all of it.
He tries to calm himself, taking a deep breath.
You wouldn’t talk. You wouldn’t risk your own career for some tabloid fodder. You’re famous too, after all. Not in the same way, but enough that the press would chew you up if you decided to spill anything.
But still. His PR team would rip him apart.
His manager? Worse. And the worst part? He’d promised—promised—to behave for at least a month. A month.
And if Carlos is anything, he’s a man of his word.
“Dios mío,” he groans, grabbing his phone from the bedside table.
He scrolls through his messages, finding your number quickly. The last text exchange, brief and teasing, makes him pause.
He hesitates for a moment, wondering if texting you about this will only make things worse. Then again, what could be worse than his manager screaming in his ear while tabloids run wild?
His thumbs hover over the keyboard before he types out:
Carlos Hey. So... I realized I forgot to make you sign an NDA last night. My bad.
He deletes it immediately. Too casual.
Carlos Morning. Hope you slept well. Quick thing, meant to get an NDA signed last night. Oops.
Carlos Don’t think you’d spill, but PR would freak. Let me know if you’re alright with me sending one over?
Carlos hesitates for a moment before adding:
Carlos Also, thanks again for last night. You’re fun to be around, even if you’re a little too good at teasing me.
He hits send before he can second-guess himself, tossing his phone onto the bed with a resigned sigh.
Now all he could do was wait and hope that:
1. You wouldn’t be offended.
2. His manager wouldn’t find out about this oversight.
—-
You blink into the morning light, squinting at the phone buzzing on the nightstand like it’s trying to crawl off the table.
You groggily grab it, seeing Carlos' name pop up with a new message.
You stretch, still half asleep, and glance over the message.
The first thing that hits you is the casual tone of it, which instantly makes you raise an eyebrow. NDA?
You don’t exactly need one, at least, you didn’t think you did. But then again, it makes sense. It’s a weird industry, and it’s not like you haven’t signed your fair share of these ridiculous things before.
You laugh a little at the thought, recalling the night before. The way everything felt so effortless, so easy, and now, here he is, texting you about NDAs like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
You picture him sitting in a hotel room, pacing, maybe even nervously fidgeting with his phone like some kind of over-caffeinated, nervous wreck.
You click on his message again, rereading it.
It’s... kind of adorable, the way he’s trying to play it cool about the whole thing. You grin.
And then you spot the part where he thanks you for last night. You’re fun to be around, even if you’re a little too good at teasing me.
That makes you smile, your cheeks warming a little.
You know what he's trying to do, being all casual and kind of sweet. But you can’t help it; it’s working.
You were just teasing him for fun, but hearing him say that? Well, it kind of feels nice.
But you don’t let it linger for long.
You know the drill. You’ve signed NDAs more times than you care to count, and it’s not like you’d ever be stupid enough to leak anything. That’s not even on the table.
Sure, there are some ridiculous tabloid stories out there, but you’re not about to give them the satisfaction.
Your career and reputation are worth more than any cheap headline.
You’re not the kind of person who’d throw away your dignity for a bit of gossip, not to mention that Carlos probably wouldn’t either.
He may be a little reckless, but you get it. Both of you have something to protect, and you respect that.
You stare at your phone, a little smile tugging at your lips. You decide to just keep it simple. He’s worrying, but you’re not about to make things more complicated.
You type out your reply:
you Don't worry about it. They're not getting anything out of me.
you I’ve signed worse things than an NDA, and I’m not about to be the person to ruin your career. If it can even be ruined at this point
you Go ahead and send it over. I’ve got you
By the time afternoon rolls around, you've handled the whole NDA situation with surprising ease.
The paperwork is signed, sealed, and done in record time.
You would have expected more back-and-forth, but Carlos kept it simple. Sent the document, answered your questions, and now it’s behind you.
No drama, no complications.
You step out of the hotel with a relieved breath, feeling like the morning's oddities are finally behind you.
But then there's that nagging little detail: Charles.
Charles, who always has a million questions when you don’t stick to your usual routine.
You grab a coffee on your way back to your room, the scent a comforting excuse for your absence.
It's just something simple. Something that won’t trigger his radar.
You know Charles too well.
A well-timed story about running out for caffeine sounds harmless enough.
And if not, well..
You’ll make it work.
—-
The next week, you’re nursing a mild headache, the kind that makes the sound of your alarm feel like a personal betrayal.
As you peel your face off the pillow, the regret for every sip of alcohol you’d had the night before hits you with the force of a freight train.
You really should stop letting Daniel and Landon drag you to every club under the sun.
Your hair’s a mess, your pajamas are a little too wrinkled for comfort, and you move with the grace of a sleep-deprived zombie who’s been deprived of both sleep and caffeine.
First stop? Coffee. Always coffee.
You shuffle into the kitchen, eyes half-lidded, and reach for your favorite mug, the one that’s seen better days. The faded design, "World's Okayest Sister," is probably more fitting this morning than ever before.
You measure the coffee grounds with mechanical precision, almost like your body’s running on autopilot.
The machine hums to life, and you watch it, waiting impatiently as the rich aroma of coffee fills the kitchen.
If you stare hard enough, maybe it'll brew faster.
Once the mug is filled, you lift it to your lips and take a long, heavenly sip.
The warmth radiates through you like a tiny, much-needed hug. It's not perfect, but it’s coffee, and that’s all that matters right now.
With the cup cradled in your hands, you shuffle back to your phone, which is still sitting on the counter from last night.
Scrolling through the notifications, you pause, your thumb hovering over the screen.
And then you see it.
carlossainz55 followed you.
Your coffee mug pauses midair, precariously balanced as you blink once, twice, trying to process what you’re seeing.
No, surely you’re still asleep.
That has to be it.
You’re dreaming. It’s the only logical explanation.
But no, the notification doesn’t disappear when you squint at it. It stays there, glaring at you, daring you to react.
Carlos’ profile pops up on your screen.
His name. His profile picture, all charm and confidence. His grid, filled with race shots, candid moments, sponsoring deals and that annoyingly perfect smile.
And there it is, glaringly obvious: “Follows you.”
You tap on his profile again, almost like you’re double-checking to make sure this isn’t some kind of glitch.
But no.
Apparently, it’s real.
You thought it was just a one-night stand. Maybe it still is.
But who the hell follows their one-night stand’s Instagram?
You stare back at the notification, still processing it, still waiting for something to make sense of this.
The world feels like it's moving at half speed as you squint at the screen.
Maybe it’s a mistake, you think. Some part of you wants to just close the app and forget it.
But the notification doesn’t disappear.
It lingers. Mocking you.
It’s not like you hadn’t thought about him.
Hell, how could you not? The night had been... well, amazing. The chemistry, the way everything just clicked, the way he made you laugh, how easy it all felt, like you’d known each other far longer than you really had.
The sex? Stellar. Absolutely 10/10. Probably something you'd brag about to your friends in a very classy, not-at-all-suggestive way if you hadn’t signed that NDA.
But now... this.
Him following you on Instagram?
It's like getting slapped in the face with a wet fish that had somehow been lit on fire.
What does this even mean? Are you supposed to act like it’s totally normal? Like you didn’t just have a mind-blowing night that now, suddenly, has an Instagram follow attached to it like a weird souvenir?
Is this how Carlos tells people he’s into them? Like, “Hey, I’ll follow you on Instagram, but let’s keep it low-key, like how I casually post sponsored content about luxury watches that cost more than your rent.”
Maybe he follows everyone he hooks up with?
But no, he’s Carlos Sainz Jr.
This is a guy who gets paid in gold bars, signs contracts that come with their own zip code, and has a fanbase that could start a small country. He's the type who has a personal assistant for his personal assistant.
The fact that he’s following you feels like finding out that Beyoncé follows you. It’s just.. weird.
You inhale sharply, suddenly remembering how to breathe, and glance at the clock.
It’s way too early for this kind of chaos.
You take another sip of coffee, as though caffeine might somehow help you process what’s unfolding.
Your thumb hovers over the follow-back button. Do you? Should you?
Of course, you do.
You tap the button before you can overthink it, and the little blue “Follow” turns into a subdued grey “Following.”
You sit there for a moment, staring at your phone, waiting for… something.
A notification.
A message.
Maybe a rogue pigeon delivering a note written in Carlos’ annoyingly neat handwriting. But nothing happens.
Nada.
“Cool,” you mutter to yourself, setting the phone down as if you’re trying to pretend nothing happened.
You take a deep breath, forcing your mind to focus on literally anything else. Like taxes. Or organizing your sock drawer. Anything but the lingering feeling of weirdness in your gut.
For the rest of the day, you pretend to be busy.
You check your notifications like a paranoid criminal every hour, convinced that your phone is holding some secret conversation you’ve missed.
But no. Nothing. Just the usual nonsense. Some ads, a message from your mom about dinner, a reminder to wash your laundry.
One day turns into two. Then three. The silence becomes more deafening, and you start to wonder if you imagined the whole thing.
Did Carlos actually follow you? Did you dream the entire sequence?
By the end of the week, your life is back to normal. The frantic phone-checking ceases. It's forgotten, a memory that’s faded to black like an expired coupon.
Then, seven days later, your phone lights up, the notification banner buzzing with the energy of a surprise party that you didn’t ask for.
carlossainz55 So, do you always follow people and then pretend they don’t exist?
You blink.
Twice.
Maybe you missed something?
You almost drop your phone because you’re so unprepared for whatever this is.
It feels like being tackled by a puppy while holding a glass of wine. You were doing fine, and then suddenly, everything’s upside down.
yourhandle Excuse me? You followed me first
carlossainz55 Details. The silence was deafening
yourhandle I figured you were busy being, you know, a world-famous rally driver. No time for little people like me
carlossainz55 I make time for the important things
You snort into your coffee, half-amused, half-annoyed. The casual way he says it makes you want to roll your eyes, but you're also weirdly charmed.
yourhandle So, what prompted this sudden message? Lose a bet?
carlossainz55 I was cleaning out my DMs and remembered there was one person I forgot to annoy
yourhandle Wow. I’m honored
carlossainz55 You should be
carlossainz55 By the way, how’s your brother? Still glaring at pictures of me?
yourhandle Probably. I think he keeps a dartboard somewhere with your face on it
carlossainz55 Tell him he needs better aim. I’m still standing
yourhandle He's practicing
carlossainz55 If he needs lessons, tell him I’m available
yourhandle Yeah, I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’d love some quality bonding time with you
The conversation flows easily, light and teasing, like you’re two middle schoolers passing notes in class.
Except the notes are digital, and the subject isn’t Mrs. Henderson’s questionable choice in socks but rather the unspoken elephant in the room.
You both dance around it like you’re in twelve-year-olds, neither of you brave, or stupid, enough to confront it head-on.
At least not until Carlos, true to form, decides that subtlety is for mortals.
carlossainz55 So… about that night…
You freeze, suddenly less comforted and more “oh no, where is this going?”
yourhandle What about it?
carlossainz55 I was just thinking...
yourhandle Dangerous start
carlossainz55 ...we should do it again.
Your jaw drops. This man. This actual man.
Subtle as a brick to the face.
Your brain short-circuits for a moment, staring at your phone like it just insulted your family.
yourhandle Excuse me?
carlossainz55 You heard me. Round two. Let’s make it happen
yourhandle Carlos, you don’t just text someone a week later and propose a sequel. That’s not how this works
carlossainz55 Why not? It’s efficient. I’m a very busy man
yourhandle Busy doing what? Posing with expensive cars and pretending to care about energy drinks?
carlossainz55 Exactly. It’s a tough life
You snort, shaking your head.
He’s absolutely ridiculous, and yet you can’t stop yourself from responding.
yourhandle And what makes you think I’d even say yes?
carlossainz55 Because the first round was great. Admit it.
You hesitate, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
But he’s not wrong.
yourhandle Okay, fine. It was great. But that doesn’t mean I’m jumping at the chance for a repeat performance.
carlossainz55 Come on, live a little. I’ll even let you pick the time and place
yourhandle Oh, how generous of you
carlossainz55 I try my best
You roll your eyes so hard they practically fall out of your head.
But deep down, you’re kind of enjoying this absurd back-and-forth.
He’s bold, sure, but there’s something oddly charming about his audacity.
yourhandle I’ll think about it
carlossainz55 That’s a yes. I’ll pencil you in
yourhandle Don’t get ahead of yourself, Sainz
carlossainz55 Too late
The next day, your phone pings with a message. It’s too early for coherent thoughts, but you know it’s him.
You squint at the screen, and sure enough:
carlossainz55 So… have you decided? Sex?
You blink. Twice. Is he serious? Of course, he is. It’s Carlos.
yourhandle Wow. No preamble? No “How are you?” Just straight to it?
carlossainz55 I’m efficient
yourhandle I think the word you're looking for is shameless
carlossainz55 That too. So? Are you free?
yourhandle Oh, totally free. Let me just clear my very busy schedule of pretending to have my life together. Where are you, anyway?
carlossainz55 Mallorca. Family stuff. You?
yourhandle Monaco. Basically living in Charles’ yacht at this point. You know, as one does. Mostly trying to avoid being swallowed by the summer rumor mill
There’s a long pause. You can practically hear him doing the mental math.
carlossainz55 Okay, so… two-hour flight? That’s nothing. I can be there by dinner
yourhandle Carlos, are you seriously suggesting flying across countries for a booty call?
carlossainz55 I’ve done more for less
yourhandle This is why the planet’s dying
carlossainz55 Okay, okay. Saving the dolphins. What’s the eco-friendly option here?
You roll your eyes, fully expecting the next message to be ridiculous.
And, of course, it doesn’t disappoint.
carlossainz55 Phone sex
yourhandle I’m sorry, what?
carlossainz55 Efficient. Sustainable. Zero emissions. It’s the responsible choice
yourhandle Carlos, do you even know how phone sex works?
carlossainz55 No, but I’m adaptable. Like learning a new track. Same principles
yourhandle You did NOT just compare dirty talk to racing strategies
carlossainz55 Why not? Both require focus, timing, and precision. And confidence, of course
You groan, half in disbelief, half because you’re genuinely entertained.
yourhandle Carlos, this is absurd. You’re absurd
carlossainz55 Absurdly charming
yourhandle Absurdly something, that’s for sure
carlossainz55 So? Are we doing this? Or are you too chicken?
You laugh, shaking your head, still not sure how you ended up here— bantering with a world-famous driver about... phone sex.
You’re almost impressed by how persistent he is.
yourhandle Carlos, I swear, you’re something else.
carlossainz55 I know. It’s a gift
---
Carlos is nervous.
He shouldn’t be.
He’s Carlos Sainz Jr—cool under pressure, smooth behind the wheel, and cocky enough to make people swoon without lifting a finger.
Yet here he is, pacing his room like a lovesick teenager, nerves coiling tighter with each passing second.
Why is he nervous?
He already knows the answer— Because it’s you.
Because for the past week, you’ve been haunting his every waking thought.
Every stolen moment has been spent thinking about the way your lips had parted for him, the way your eyes had rolled back when he sank deep inside you, the way your voice, breathless and wrecked, had gasped his name like it was your favorite prayer.
He’s pathetic, really.
Fisting his cock every night like some horny rookie, chasing memories of you that refuse to fade.
He remembers every little detail too vividly.
Your soft whimpers, the flush of your cheeks, the dazed way you’d looked up at him with a mixture of awe and need.
It’s seven minutes until your scheduled call.
Scheduled.
Like this is some professional meeting and not an invitation to lose his mind over you through a goddamn phone.
He swears under his breath, rubbing a hand over his face as he feels the familiar heat pooling low in his belly.
“Joder,” he mutters, already hard just thinking about you.
He sits back against the headboard, sliding his boxers down his thighs.
His cock springs free, aching and flushed, already leaking like he’s some desperate virgin. He swears again, low and guttural, wrapping his hand around the base as if it’ll calm him down.
It doesn’t.
Carlos spits into his palm, slicking himself up with a firm grip.
His hips twitch at the first stroke, and he hisses through his teeth, already so sensitive he’s on the edge of losing it.
He shuts his eyes, letting his mind drift to you. Fuck. Your pretty little cunt, so tight and wet around him, gripping him like you never wanted to let go.
He can still hear the way you’d moaned his name, sweet and broken, like you couldn’t get enough of him.
He strokes himself harder, his fist moving in slick, desperate pumps.
His breathing grows heavier, each exhale mingled with a groan as his hips lift to meet his hand.
“Good girl,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, the words slipping out without thought.
His mind is full of you.
How perfect you’d looked when he’d buried his face between your thighs, your legs trembling as he devoured you.
He remembers the way you’d begged for him, the way your fingers had tugged at his hair as he licked and sucked until you fell apart.
“Fuck,” he groans, his pace quickening. His free hand grips the sheets, knuckles white as he imagines your face again.
Your lips parted, your expression blissful and wrecked as he pushed you over the edge.
He’s close, teetering on the edge of release, his cock throbbing in his fist.
“Such a good girl,” he slurs, his hips bucking uncontrollably. “Taking me so well—mierda—just like that...”
The thought of your cunt fluttering around him, your breathy cries echoing in his ears, pushes him over.
With a guttural groan, he spills over his hand, thick ropes of cum painting his stomach as he rides out his high.
His chest heaves as he comes down, the pleasure fading and leaving behind a warm haze and just a little shame.
He stares at the mess he’s made, breathing heavily as he mutters a soft curse.
And then the phone buzzes. Your name lights up the screen.
Carlos firmly believes that every man has a refractory period, it's simple biology.
But as his cock twitches at the sight of your name lighting up his phone screen, he starts to question everything he’s ever known.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he hardens again, his body responding to you like you’ve got some magical hold over him.
He huffs out a breath, staring down at the mess he’s made on his stomach, the sticky evidence of how utterly gone he is for you.
With a shaky hand, he answers the call.
His voice comes out softer, more composed than he feels. “Hey.”
Your reply is immediate, and the sound of your voice sends another jolt straight to his cock. “Hey.”
Carlos clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to whine. His body’s so sensitive it aches.
“You nervous?” he asks, his tone laced with a teasing edge to hide how wrecked he feels.
“A little,” you admit, your voice breathy.
He exhales through his nose, his lips quirking up into a smirk. “Then let’s fix that, shall we?”
There’s a pause, and then he murmurs, “Do you mind if I take the lead, sweetheart?”
You bite your lip, heat pooling low in your belly at the pet name. “No, Carlos.”
“Good girl.” The words roll off his tongue, slow and deliberate, and you feel the throb of need between your legs intensify.
“Are you in your underwear right now?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low rumble.
You glance down at yourself, cheeks flushing. “Mhm...”
“Tell me what they look like.”
“They’re red,” you whisper, your voice shy.
Carlos grins, his tone playful. “My favorite color. Take them off for me, baby.”
Your breath hitches, and you slip them off, letting them fall to the floor.
“Are you wet for me?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Very,” you admit, your cheeks burning.
“Let me hear.”
You hesitate, unsure how to respond. “How do I-?”
Carlos chuckles, the sound deep and rich. “Slip a finger in, baby. Let me hear how soaked you are for me.”
You inhale shakily, doing as he says.
The moment your finger slides in, you let out a soft whimper.
It’s not enough.
It’s nowhere near enough.
“Fuck,” Carlos groans, the sound making your pussy clench. “You are wet. God, baby, I’d kill to be there right now. All those pretty juices going to waste... I’d lick you clean.”
You whine at his words, your hips shifting against your hand as you try to chase the feeling.
“I know, I know,” he soothes, though his voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back. “Start moving that finger, sweet girl.”
You obey, your breath hitching as you pump your finger slowly. It’s good, but it’s not enough. Not compared to Carlos.
“Carlos,” you whimper, your voice breaking. “Please...”
His laugh is soft, teasing. “Need more?”
“Yes,” you gasp, your hips bucking into your hand. “Yes, please-”
“Okay, baby. Add another finger for me.”
You do, slipping in another finger with a hiss. The stretch feels better, but it still pales in comparison to what you really want.
“Thank you,” you mewl, your head tipping back against the pillow as you fuck yourself slowly.
Carlos groans, his hand wrapping around his cock again, unable to stop himself. “That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself for me. Let me hear those pretty little sounds.”
Your thighs tremble as you press your palm harder against your aching clit, your hips rolling instinctively.
The heat pooling low in your belly is unbearable, and every tiny movement sends sparks racing across your skin.
On the other end of the phone, Carlos has been quiet, but you can hear it, his uneven breathing, the faint hitch in his breath that tells you he’s not unaffected.
You let out a soft, broken moan, unable to keep quiet, and his breath catches audibly.
“Are you…” Your voice is trembling, slurred with need as you choke out the words, “…are you touching yourself?”
“Of course I am,” he groans, his voice wrecked. “How could I not? Fuck, you’ve got me so hard I can’t think straight.”
The image of him stroking himself, his cock slick and swollen, his jaw clenched as his chest heaves, sends a rush of heat to your core.
You grind your hips against your palm, pressing harder against your clit as your thighs tremble.
“I wish you were here,” you whimper, your voice breathless. “Wish I could feel you. I’d be so full, Carlos. I’d clench around you so tight, just like this-”
The sound of your stuttered moan nearly sends him over the edge right there.
Each gasp, each whimper, each broken sob of his name over the line is another jolt to his already oversensitive cock.
He’s gripping himself tightly, too tightly, the pain blending with pleasure until he can’t tell where one starts and the other ends.
His grip falters for a moment before he picks up the pace, stroking himself mercilessly despite the ache in his stomach and the burn of overstimulation.
“You sound so fucking good,” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly as he fights to keep it together. “God, I wish I could see you right now- wish I could spread those legs and watch you touch yourself for me.”
Your shaky whimpers only spur him on. “Carlos… I-I’m so close.”
“Yeah?” His tone dips, almost desperate. “You gonna cum for me, sweet girl? Gonna make those pretty little noises when you fall apart?”
You grind your clit against your palm, your back arching as you nod, even though he can’t see you. “Yes- yes, Carlos-”
He groans, his hand faltering slightly as his cock twitches in his grip.
He’s so fucking close, but it’s almost unbearable now, every stroke of his hand sending shocks through his overstimulated body.
“Fuck, I can hear how wet you are,” he grits out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to stop the whines threatening to spill out.
“Wish I could taste you. God, I’d bury my face in that pussy and never come up for air.”
You gasp, the sound high-pitched and desperate, and he knows you’re right on the edge.
You can hear the faint, wet sound of his hand moving faster, matching your pace.
“Think about me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rough and commanding. “Think about how good I’d feel inside you, stretching you, filling you. You’d take me so well, wouldn’t you? So tight, so wet for me.”
The filthy words rip a broken moan from your throat, your hips bucking wildly as you grind against your palm.
“Carlos,” you gasp again, your voice high-pitched and desperate.
“Come for me,” he whispers, his voice wrecked and raw. “Be a good girl and let me hear you fall apart. Let me hear how much you fucking need me.”
The moment your cries reach their peak, his hips buck involuntarily, his cock pulsing painfully in his hand.
“Carlos!” you scream, your voice cracking as you tumble over the edge.
Hearing his name on your lips like that almost breaks him. His body is trembling, his stomach tight, and the overstimulation is nearly unbearable.
He grits his teeth, his hand still moving as he chases his own release. “Fuck- fuck, baby, you sound so good- so perfect-”
Carlos can barely breathe now. His hand is slick with his own cum from earlier, and every stroke feels like fire, but he can’t stop. He won’t stop.
“God, you’re gonna kill me,” he groans, his voice shaking. “I’m so fucking close- fuck, I can’t-”
His words cut off as his orgasm crashes over him, his vision going white as his cock pulses in his hand.
It’s too much, way too much, but he strokes himself through it anyway, biting back the sobs of pleasure-pain threatening to escape.
When he finally collapses back against the pillows, utterly wrecked, he hears your soft, breathy laughter on the other end of the line. "Are you okay?"
Carlos exhales shakily, his chest still heaving as the aftershocks ripple through him. He wipes a hand over his face, his body buzzing and completely wrecked, but he manages to keep his voice even as he speaks.
"Yeah," he lies, his tone almost too casual. "Just… pent up, I guess."
The truth, though, is that he’s fried. His hand aches, his cock is oversensitive, and his nerves feel like they’ve been set on fire.
But he’d go through it all again, every unbearable second, just to hear the way you came undone for him.
“So,” he asks after a beat, breaking the heavy silence. “How’d I do? Be honest. I can take it.”
There’s a pause on your end, followed by a soft laugh that makes his chest tighten. “Was that really your first time?”
He snorts, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “I mean, yeah. First time on the phone, anyway. Not my first time… y’know.”
“Uh-huh,” you tease, and he can hear the smirk in your voice. “Because you sounded like a pro. Like, suspiciously good.”
“Suspiciously good?” he echoes, feigning offense. “I’m just naturally talented, thank you very much.”
“You’re definitely talented,” you admit, your voice soft and warm. “Very good.”
He grins, letting the compliment settle into his chest like a warm weight. “Thank you,” he says, a little smug.
Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Now, clean yourself up and drink some water.”
“Bossy,” you shoot back, laughing.
“Always,” he quips, his grin widening. “And I’ll keep saying it because I care. Hydrate, or I’ll call you again just to nag.”
“Fine, fine,” you relent, your tone playful. “I’ll get some water, but only because you’re so convincing.”
He chuckles, wishing he could actually take care of you.
He imagines bringing you a glass of water, wiping you down gently, maybe even cooking you something if you were hungry.
But he can’t. Not tonight, anyway.
“So,” he says, shifting the conversation, “how’s everything else? What’s new with you?”
You hum, and he listens as you shuffle around, likely cleaning yourself up as instructed. “Not much. Work’s been… chaotic. But in a good way, I guess? Keeps me busy.”
"I know that feeling," he says, grabbing a handful of tissues and grimacing as he cleans up the ridiculous mess pooling on his stomach. He swipes at it with quick, efficient movements, though the sheer volume makes him pause for a second.
"Dios mío," he mutters under his breath, shaking his head.
“The season’s kicking back up soon, and summer training’s been brutal,” he continues, his voice a little strained as he carefully wipes himself clean.
When he reaches lower, the sensitivity makes him wince, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth.
His body’s wrecked, his nerves shot, and he’s not sure if it’s pleasure or pain anymore.
You are definitely not good for his health.
“Brutal, huh?” you tease. “Poor baby. All that fame and fortune must make it so hard to be you.”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” he retorts, laughing. “I’ve got to stay in top shape so I can keep looking good for you.”
“Oh, that’s why?” you shoot back, giggling. “Not, like, for the whole racing thing?”
“That’s just a side gig,” he jokes. “The real goal is impressing you. Obviously.”
You both laugh, the conversation easing into a comfortable rhythm.
He listens to you talk about your day, chiming in with little quips and teasing remarks that make you laugh.
It’s easy, natural, and he almost forgets that you’re miles apart.
Eventually, you yawn softly, and he can hear the tiredness in your voice. “I should let you go,” you say reluctantly.
“Yeah,” he agrees, though the thought of ending the call makes him a little regretful. “Get some rest.”
“You too,” you reply softly. “And Carlos?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For… tonight. For everything.”
His voice softens. “Anytime, baby.”
When the call ends, he stares at the ceiling for a long moment, the silence of his room pressing in around him.
He sighs, running a hand over his face, and mutters to himself, “You’re so fucked, Sainz.”
—-
series taglist :
@5sospenguinqueen @wadupppp @waytooobsessedwithlife @weekendlusting
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nikovraskol · 1 month ago
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so with the crack baby, what if the og timeline finds their phone?? Like they're going through it and seeing their whole life and achievements, maybe even the notes app with all their thoughts and feelings..
Ohhhh and then the 2nd timeline sneaking into their room and finding all those trophies?? Damian being forced to recognize that maybe his sibling does have some sort of brain..
masterlist
keep the requests coming gang i'm trying to procrasinate the next chapter
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i imagine like dick just sat in your room, literally over anylysing everything just to get a peek at the kind of person you were outside of the nervous, starry-eyed youthling who'd trail behind him and then he stumbles upon your phone.
literal jackpot, he guesses your password on the third try because he put in your birthday (how careless), and he goes through EVERY app. he goes through your social media, your games, he even goes through your ubereats app to see what kind of food you like!
he goes through your notes app and it's just essays upon essays how you feel a suffocating cavity in your chest or how you want to get closer to them, how you want them to look back and then as the notes progress and you get older, hitting the eighteen mark, how you loath them.
he sighs, sighs again before sending some notes about how cool you think your family is and how you want to spend time with them to himself, and then he finally shows the others.
each of them respectively crying throwing up, analysing every single thing you've said, oh you misspelled something? noted. you accidentally forgot to you the correct tense? noted. you put in a shopping list in between your rants? noted.
i imagine them literally ANNOTATING your emotions (LMAO), they just want to understand you, they have nothing to remember you by, no face, no memories, nothing of the real you.
so sure, while it hurts to read about how you wish you could scrub yourself clean of bruce's dna, it's nice to read about you.
and they will, obviously, print out every selfie you've ever took. any group photos will be cropped, they'll hang up your pictures everywhere, like a guest comes over and there's just a massive, framed picture of you smiling at the camera with a bunch of cropped heads around you. OR you in school, like a massive grin on your face as you do something mischevious but it's kind of blurry and also there's a massive red X on the person besides you.
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as for the second timeline, i think this is really interesting -- especially because you're trying to mind your business, live your life, maybe you went out for a walk and you're tired, eager to get to bed.
so you walk in your room and, well, your whole family's just sprawled around your box room, your medals and trophies scattered about as they each take it in deeply.
"i wasn't aware you were so profficient at science." damian adresses you, staring at an obnoxiously bright 'first place!' certificate in his hands, your name sprawled across it. how unexpected, perhaps you're not as useless as you seem. no, this is high-school level so sure, he's impressed, but he doubts bioenergetics will help you in the real world, aka, the vigilante occupation, aka, something you will NEVER try.
tim is assessing all the dates, "you did these both at the same time? ..impressive." he nods towards you, and you have to physically stop yourself from cringing. like, sure, 10 years ago you'd be running up the walls at this attention. but you're tired! and completely uninterested now that you've grown up.
"can you guys fu--" you're cut off by bruce putting a hand on your shoulder and nodding, subtly trying to hide the fact that he's having alfred lug all the pictures of you on podiums or on stage into his room. you just look so cute :( if he ignores the way your eyes are gleaming with tears or how you're the only one without a parent standing behind you.
jason lurking around, an unnaturally soft expression as he watches videos of you singing as a youthling -- you have to stop yourself from viscerally reacting AGAIN. why is he even here? he doesn't live here! speaking of people who don't live here--
"wow! why didn't you tell me you like gymnastics? i would've loved to support you! dick smiles, tracing the lines on your medal with the utmost care.
"i did tell you, you didn't care -- in fact, one time you promised me you'd come to my tournament but obviously didn't show up, i cried so hard i was disqualified."
"... i don't like this game anymore."
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mattyriddlesbitch · 9 months ago
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Hii lovely!! I'm not sure if it's alright but just hear me out. maybe a fic stalker theo completely obsessed w reader, maybe kinda dubcon but if not i totally understand !!
Very convenient timing considering I just read Haunting Adeline this weekend. I kinda used one of the parts in it for the instigation, but I hope this works!
Fuck Off
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Warnings: DUB/NONCON PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS STUFF, oral(female receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, cussing, stalking.
18+ Minors DNI
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You've had a stalker for a few months now. They would leave gifts outside your dorm to begin with. Then they started showing up in your dorm. The gifts were sweet and tailor specifically to your likes and wants, which you couldn't decide if that made it creepier or not.
The gifts weren't the only thing you got from your stalker. They would also send you texts from an unknown number. They weren't threatening or anything that suggested harm to you. Maybe creepy since they'd talk about what you were doing in that moment, even when you were completely alone. Sometimes they were sweet, sometimes they were sexual. And you hated to admit it, but they knew exactly how to talk dirty to you, they could get you worked up so easily. It freaked you out but you weren't in danger. Right?
You were sitting in your bed reading, unwinding from the hectic day you just had when your phone went off for a text notification. It startled you out of your little world and you opened the message.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you're reading?”
Your stalker again.
“A few times.” You replied. At this point, you've given up ignoring them since they'll just keep messaging you until you respond.
“I'll tell you a million more times. You should be reminded every day how beautiful you are.”
“You already do that.”
“Maybe next time I say it, I can say it while my cock's buried deep inside you.”
“Pervert.”
“Only for you. You know you drive me insane. You make me so hard just sitting there. Especially since I know the filth you're reading. You're not so innocent yourself, bella.”
You looked at your phone for a moment before looking around. You did read dirty books, but only in your dorm. Another ping from your phone drew your attention back to it.
“You won't find me, amore mio. You should know this by now.”
“Fuck off.” You replied, angry at him for how he's treating your privacy.
“Careful, principessa. If you say that again, I'm gonna come fuck that little pussy of yours.”
You scoffed, disgusted by his words. Would he really come do it? No. Was part of you also curious if he would and wanted to see who he was? Yeah. That's why you couldn't stop yourself from replying.
“Fuck off.”
“You're in for it now, cara mia.”
You rolled your eyes and went back to your book. Your eyes felt heavy after a while and you put the book aside to fall asleep.
The next day, you got up and headed for the showers, getting ready for the day. You stripped and got under the hot water of the shower, relaxing for a moment before starting your shower routine.
You always got an eerie feeling of someone watching you or being right there when you closed your eyes while rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out of your hair. This time, though, when you opened your eyes after rinsing out the conditioner, there was someone right in front of you. You knew him, of course, everyone did. Theodore Nott.
You screamed and backed away from him, hitting the shower wall while you covered your body as best as you could.
“Get the fuck out!” You yelled.
“I'm not going anywhere, cara mia.” He smiled. You noticed he was fully clothed as he stepped towards you, drenching his clothes from the shower.
“You? You're the fucking creep that's been stalking me?” You made the connection after hearing him call you the same pet name as your stalker.
“If you recall that little conversation last night, I told you I'd come fuck you if you told me to ‘fuck off’ again, which you did.” He took another step closer, his shoes nearly touching your toes. “And I don't make empty threat, principessa.”
“I could scream right now and someone will come in and stop you.” You threatened, hoping to deter him.
“I'm hurt you think I'm so stupid. I put a silencing charm on the room and looking charm on the door so no one could come in and you can't get out.” He said as he brushed a strand of your wet hair from your face.
You flinched from his touch, closing your eyes. “What are you gonna do to me?” You whisper.
“I'm gonna make you feel so, so good, bella.” He said and moved to kneel in front of you.
As soon as his knees hit the tile, you pushed him out of the way and ran out of the shower, trying not to slip.
“I already told you, you cant get out, cara mia.” He called out to you.
You ignored him and tried the door to the bathroom. Wouldn't even budge. You didn't have your wand on you either since you were showering. Hands wrapped around your waist and you fought against him, kicking back to hit him, which just ended up making you both fall to the ground. He was much quicker than you, propping you on your knees so your face was down and ass up for him while he held your hands behind your back. You couldn't see him from this angle, but felt his tongue flick your clit, making you moan.
“You act like you don't want me, but your soaking, cara mia.” He said before licking and sucking at your clit.
Your words died in your throat, replaced by a moan leaving your mouth instead.
“Your body knows what it wants, amore mio.” He licked up to your entrance, prodding his tongue inside.
“Fuck.” You moaned, eyes rolling back before closing.
He moaned against you and kept his onslaught of pleasure on your pussy until you came.
“That's my good girl. That's what I wanted.” He said as he helped ride out your high.
“To force yourself on me?” You asked as you caught your breath once the orgasm faded.
“To make you feel good, principessa.” He shuffled behind you a bit as he kept a hand holding yours down still. You could hear the sound of his pants being undone.
“I think there could've been another way to fuck me that didn't involve stalking and harassing me.” It probably wasn't a smart move to mouth off to your stalker, but you were so angry. You pulled your hands out of his grip and tried taking off, but he just grabbed your legs, making you fall back on your stomach.
“I think you like this, though. I see how soaked you are from this.” He pulled you back onto your knees and held onto both your wrists with both of his hands. His cock teased your entrance, coating it in your arousal.
“You think I like you forcing yourself on me?” You said, hissing from how sensitive you were when he nudged your clit.
“You haven't told me to stop.” He said before thrusting into you, immediately bottoming out and making you cry out. “You're practically dripping from how wet you are for me, cara mia.”
You couldn't even deny that, maybe you were crazy, but you were embarrassingly wet from all this.
He started thrusting in and out of you, his grip on your wrists tight, bruises will probably form later from all of this.
“Not even trying to fight back anymore. You finally accepting that you're enjoying this?” He asked, letting go of your wrists to grab your hips. “Or maybe I got you too cockdrunk on me. Is that it? Am I making you feel so good you can't talk?” His voice was condesending.
“Fuck off.” You said, clawing at the floor to grip something.
“You love testing me, principessa. I don't mind. I'm happy to put you in your place each time.” He said and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “You can stop acting like you hate this. I can feel you clenching my cock like you can't get enough of it.”
“As if.” You said between moans. He was hitting you so deep and fast, it had another orgasm building quickly.
“Keep talking like that and next time I'll have to punish you, amore mio.” He said, moving a hand from your hip to grip your hair. “How about you be a good girl instead and cum on my cock for me, yeah?”
“Fuck, shit!” You cried out, so close to cumming.
“Scream my name when you cum. Wanna hear how it sounds from those pretty lips.” He groaned, he was getting close himself. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, principessa.”
You came around him, trembling as his name fell from your lips over and over.
“That's the most beautiful sound I've ever fucking heard. Shit!” He said before moaning, his hips stilling as he came inside you, filling your pussy with his cum.
He pulled out as you both caught your breaths and stood back up, quickly redoing his pants before pulling out his wand and undoing the spells. He left the bathroom without another word to you as you slowly got up and went back to the shower to scrub the filth of what you'd done off of you.
And hopefully convince yourself that you didn't enjoy that.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff
@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121
@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236
@demieyesore
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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