#natural in front of the camera :p | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

annewithaneofthegreengable · 4 months ago

Text

Smile, we're on the camera

max verstappen x reader

Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, public sex,..

my masterlist

“Here?!” you screeched.

“Yeah.” Max shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?”

You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Max? We’re in a damn photo booth!”

The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?”

The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however.

"So?" you sputter, eyes wide in disbelief. "Don't you have any decency, any boundaries?!" Max's stoic face only serves to enrage you further. "Fine, if that's how you want to play it,"

Max slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path of going out of the photo booth.

“We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.”

A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?”

The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them.

You gulped as Max slowly licked his lips, giving you a once-over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up.

He walked you backwards slowly, step by step until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his menacing words, your body instinctively pressing back against the cold metal wall of the photo booth as Max's muscular frame loomed over you. The heat of his breath on your neck, the raw intensity in his voice - it was intoxicating and terrifying all at once. You can feel the hardness of his muscular chest through the thin fabric of your dress, as his hands gently but with confident grip move up from your thighs. They slide around to cup your ass, pulling you even closer against him.

You thought you could tamp down the moan trapped in your throat, but you were sorely mistaken when it unleashed without remorse. Your chest heaved with exhilaration and your fingers twitched excitedly at the prospect of something so scandalous.

“So what’s it gonna be, Liefje? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”

You had not expected this outcome when you had dragged your boyfriend over to the booth. You wanted to take cute pictures and add them to your keepsake memory box. Now you were deciding your fate; whether you would be leaving your dignity in the tiny stall or chance getting arrested for public indecency in the middle of the shopping mall.

Max raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer.

“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation.

The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Bingo.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Max hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always.

“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his hair, trying to grab a hold of it tightly.

“Maxie, I swear to God, if you ever cut your hair short again I will leave you then and there.”

Max chuckles against your lips, the vibration sending a shiver down your body. "I wouldn't dream of it, love," he murmurs, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your jaw and neck, all the while keeping you lifted in his arms.

Even after so many years, the spark between you and Max was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin.

He continues to pepper kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath sending goosebumps down your arms as he makes his way to the sensitive spot just above your breasts. Your nipples ache in response, and you arch your back, pressing your chest against his.

“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out.

You gasped at the sight. Max really was hard for you already, if the angry-looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger.

The sight of Max, so clearly overwhelmed with desire for you, was indeed a powerful aphrodisiac. The way his throbbing member twitched with need only served to fuel your own desire, your thighs clenching around him in response.

Max's hand finally made contact with your skin, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His fingers traced a path up your side, causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You're enjoying this, aren't you, Liefde?"

You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.”

His hand reached your breast, cupping it possessively as he squeezed the soft flesh through the fabric of your clothes. "You're so responsive to me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I can feel how hard your nipples are, even through the thin fabric of your top.

The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Max!” you scolded. “Those were new!”

Your heart raced as Max's fingers hooked into the waistband of your new, now destroyed lingerie, effortlessly peeling the delicate fabric away from your heated skin. The cool air of the small photo booth caressed your exposed lower half, a stark contrast to the burning desire that seemed to radiate from the man holding you.

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.”

You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?”

Max chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”

Smug bastard, you cursed internally.

“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, mijn kleine meid.?”

You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Max sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”

The sudden surge of pleasure that coursed through you at Max's forceful thrust stole your breath away. Your back arched instinctively, pushing yourself harder onto him. The roughness of his actions, the sound of his breath hitching, it was all too intoxicating.

Max's hands roamed your body, gripping your hips, pulling you closer, his fingers leaving imprints on your skin. His thrusts became more urgent, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you with each movement. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was almost overwhelming.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, as Max's pace quickened. Sweat dripped from his forehead, onto your skin, as he lost himself in the sensations. The air was thick with tension, heavy with anticipation, as you both hurtled towards the edge of a shattering climax. "Max...

The nails of his fingers dug crescent shapes into your bare thighs, but the sting of pain was nothing compared to the slow drag of his cock leaving your cunt. You whimpered as his thick girth left you inch by inch until only the tip sat inside of you.

“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked.

"Please," you whimpered, not even realizing the word had escaped your lips. Max's grin was wolfish as he began to ease out completely, just the head of his cock nestled against your entrance. He rocked back and forth, teasing you with the promise of returning to your warmth.

“My baby is so polite. Come on, tell me, Liefde, what do you need and I’ll gladly give it to you.”

"Please, Max," you managed to gasp, the desperation clear in your voice. The denial was torture, the touch and then the swift removal driving you crazy with need. "Please, fuck me, fill me up again."

He shrugged. “Good enough.”

A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Max thrusted his hips up, his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, needing him to touch every part of you. Max obliged, grinding against you with a primal intensity, his hips slapping against your thighs. "Take it, baby," he growled, his voice raw with lust. "Take every inch of my cock."

Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”

Max fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story.

“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’ve thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.”

Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple.

“You markin’ me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?”

You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Max’s scalp.

Max's eyes rolled back, his pupils constricting as he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips. The sound of his ragged breathing and the wet slapping of his cock against your pussy filled the air. The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, Liefde. I’m all yours.”

Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”

“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, Liefje,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?”

You tried, you really did. But the way the head of his cock repeatedly stroked against the sensitive spongy spot of your pussy made your inhibitions blurry and you couldn’t help moaning like a whore.

Max tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth.

You hummed around them instantly while staring into his eyes. He made you this way; a willing body for him to toy with, a woman who was quick to fall under his command and you lived for it. You gargled around his large fingers as you jolted each time he drove his cock into you, drool dripping down from your chin and landing on your boyfriend’s lower stomach and dick.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.”

You sucked on his fingers, your eyes half-lidded with desire as he began to take control. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and trailed them down your body, tracing a path from your lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and finally to the apex of your thighs.

His fingers danced around your clit, teasing you mercilessly before he slowly slid them back inside you, plunging deep to stroke that sweet spot once more. You whimpered, your body trembling with pleasure as he bit gently on your earlobe. "You're going to come for me, baby?"

His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed.

“Shit, you sound so pretty.” His eyes darted towards the swinging panties still attached to your ankle and he quickly removed his fingers to grab them. “Such a good girl for me, baby. But I think we need somethin’ a little more efficient to quiet my eager girl down.”

Before you had the chance to whimper again, Max shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”

Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention. Max groaned, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple as he fought the urge to thrust deeper. "Fuck, babe, you're so tight... so goddamn wet." He grunted, trying to maintain control.

“Mhm!” you mumbled over your makeshift gag. Your worries of being caught had long disappeared, your main focus now to revel in the building tension from your lower stomach creeping to the surface.

The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Max’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock.

Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Max did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Max discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer.

Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, baby?” he asked, short-windedly while his thighs trembled.

You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel.

“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily.

“Good. Ready, Liefde?” he asked.

Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began.

“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him.

“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out.

“One.” On his final count, Max pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photo booth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream.

“Holy— F—Fuck!” Your boyfriend’s shout echoed across the white walls while his fist slammed next to your head. A huge load of his cum shot up into your cunt, overflowing the already full hole.

Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline-filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Max and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time.

You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Max enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek.

“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, baby.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.

Max’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?”

You lightly smacked his chest, even if you couldn’t contain your own cheesy smile. “Nope. I’m not inflating your ego more than it already is.” Turning your head to the screen of the booth, your eyes widened at what you saw. “No, you did not.”

“Oh, but I did,” Max said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.”

“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless.

“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.”

“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.”

Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Max made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun.

“Come on, you.” He lightly slapped your ass before ripping the curtain open. “We’ve still got some shopping to do.” He stepped out, whistling to himself like he hadn’t just fucked you senseless and held his hand out for you to take.

“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought.

Max leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?”

You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face.

With a huff, you exited the photo booth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Max’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.

Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream.

“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.”

Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish.”

2K notes · View notes

thevillainswhore · 8 months ago

Note

You Look Good On Camera, Baby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Bucky’s not letting you leave the photobooth, not until he’s had his way with you.

Warnings: Established relationship, teasing, kissing, smut, public sex, p in v, quickie, finger sucking, uses panties to keep reader quiet, creampie.

Author’s note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics by @rookthorne

Aaand all of a sudden we have another oneshot. Sigh. This one has actually been on my mind since these pictures were first released so a big thank you to Lana for finally giving me the push to make it happen 🤭 really enjoyed this one 🤍

“Here?!” you screeched.

“Yeah.” Bucky shrugged, unfazed. “What’s wrong with that?”

You choked on your own spit at his nonchalance, how carefree he was about this. “W—What do you mean what’s wrong with fucking here, Bucky? We’re in a damn photobooth!”

The blank expression on his face was unchanging. “So?”

The words on the tip of your tongue died out. Your boyfriend could be a little freaky in the bedroom sometimes and you were all for it. Never had you both risked the danger of public sex, however.

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think we’re doing it in public,” you scoffed before beginning to make your way out of the stall.

But you were quickly stopped in your tracks as Bucky slammed his arm against the opposing wall, effectively blocking your path. “We’re not leaving until I’ve fucked you.”

A shudder of arousal ran down your spine at the gruffness of his voice. “Baby,” you laughed nervously. “I know we like to experiment sometimes, but this is a little far, don’t you think?”

The air between you was thick with tension, especially with a pair of bright blue eyes staring you down so intensely you imagined the burning embers of a fire raging behind them.

You gulped as Bucky slowly licked his lips, giving you a once over that made you feel too exposed in an already revealing sundress. There was a short distance between you, and your boyfriend’s stature was towering and beefy, taking up a large presence — his imposing nature made the hairs on your arms stand up.

He walked you backwards slowly, step by step, until you hit the far wall of the booth. Pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, he snarled. “All I know is that my cock is so fuckin’ hard for you right now and if I don’t have your pussy wrapped around it within the next thirty seconds, I’m gonna haul you over my shoulder and take you out there in front of the whole damn mall.”

“So what’s it gonna be, sweetheart? In this photo booth with a little privacy? Or out there where everyone can watch me ruin you? Your choice.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, awaiting your answer.

“In h—here,” you whispered in anticipation.

The cheshire cat grin you received in return spiked your nerves even further. “Clever girl.”

Without giving you a chance to backtrack on your decision, Bucky hoisted you up into his arms and smothered your squeal of shock with his lips. He wasted no time snaking his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance like always.

“Mmph!” you moaned when he flicked his tongue against yours. A zing of electricity shot down to your pussy and you threaded your fingers through his long hair, pulling it tightly.

Even after so many years, the spark between you and Bucky was still alive. Throughout the trysts of your sexual experiences together, the attraction to each other had only intensified. He was sexier now than ever before. And even if he came up with outlandish ideas that made you step out of your comfort zone, you held so much trust in him that it was easy to follow him to the depths of sin.

A string of saliva connected between your lips as Bucky pulled away for air. While he was reckless for suggesting such a depraved idea of public sex, he was smart enough to realise the two of you were short on time to make it happen.

“Hold on,” he warned before handling your weight over to one arm. With the other, he unzipped the fly of his trousers and shuffled them down just past his ass until his cock bounced out.

You gasped at the sight. Bucky really was hard for you already, if the angry looking vein straining from his thick length was anything to go by. He was throbbing, you could see his dick viciously twitching with need and your thighs clenched around his waist with hunger.

Your boyfriend squeezed your hip. “You like seeing me desperate for you, huh baby?”

You tightened your lips to try and hide your smile and shrugged innocently. “Can’t say I mind it so much.”

Bucky growled with a smirk. “You’re a fuckin’ tease, girl.”

The amusement was quick to wipe from your face when he reached down and ripped the panties covering your mound. “Bucky!” you scolded. “Those were new!”

He rolled his eyes playfully, trying not to laugh at the way the shredded material now hung from your ankle. “Oh, hush. I’ll buy you some more.”

You huffed. “What? So you can rip them off me again?”

Bucky chucked under your chin condescendingly. “Look at you, learning so fast.”

Smug bastard, you cursed internally.

“Gonna stop complaining and let me fuck you now, doll?”

You scowled and poked his chest with your finger. “You better watch the way you speak to me— OH!” The retort on your tongue cut off as Bucky sheathed the entirety of his length inside of your pussy in one smooth thrust. Your nails dug harshly into the firm muscle of his shoulders and you buried your head into his neck. “H—Holy shit.”

Bucky panted breathlessly, just as affected as you. Though he still had the gall to tease you. “You were saying?”

You lifted your head to glare at him, still winded. “You’re damn lucky I love you.” And though you wanted to scold your boyfriend for his cheek, you couldn’t help but squirm on his cock. There was only so much you could take until it wasn't enough — you needed him to move. To feel the delicious scrape of his length against your tight walls. “Now shut up and fuck me before someone comes.”

“You’re so hot when you boss me around,” Bucky moaned before kissing you with urgency.

“Gonna beg me for it, baby?” he asked.

You blew out an impatient huff and tugged on his hair harshly until he groaned. “Give me your cock, if you know what’s good for you.”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “Good enough.”

A high pitched keen was forced out of you when Bucky thrusted his hips up, the full nine inches of his dick sat deep inside of your pussy. “Fuck!”

“Should’ve begged like I asked and maybe I’d have gone a little easier on you, sweetheart,” he said tauntingly.

“If you ever think that I would want it easy then you don’t know me at all,” you clapped back.

Your boyfriend’s eyes shone with pride. “That’s my girl.”

Bucky fucked like it was the first time every time. His movements were careful and his hands were greedy; always touching you, always gathering you as close as possible to him. And while he was soft with his caresses, his desire to roughly pound his cock into your cunt, as deep as it humanely could, was another story.

“God, you’re like a fuckin’ vice around my dick,” he choked out. “Would’a thought you’d have loosened up by now, baby. But I can still barely move.”

Unable to speak without screaming, you sucked his neck, bruising his skin until it turned a dark purple.

“You markin me, huh? Want everybody to know who I belong to?”

You nodded your head while whimpering, the nails of your fingers scratching against Bucky’s scalp.

The motion of his thrusts made his balls slap against your ass — he loved it when you got possessive. “Filthy fuckin’ girl. Don’t worry, doll. I’m all yours.”

Letting go of his neck with a pop, you loudly whined out, “So good— cock feels so good in me, baby. Fucking me just right.”

“Oh, I know. But you gotta turn down the volume, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “Save it for the bedroom, alright?”

Bucky tutted and shook his head in mock disapproval. “Guess I have to do everything for you, hm?” His lips curled up in perverse satisfaction as he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth.

“Can’t even let my fingers keep you quiet, huh? Just have to make sure everyone knows how good it feels to be fucked by me.”

Your back slammed against the wall of the stall and the force of Bucky’s hips rocked the whole thing back and forth. His strength only turned you on more and even with the intrusion of his fingers, your noises grew louder, more unabashed.

Before you had the chance to whimper again, Bucky shoved your underwear into your mouth. To both of your luck, your moans became muffled enough to not draw attention. “Perfect.”

Though the volume of your sounds had been solved, the slick noises coming from your dripping cunt became the center of attention.

“Are you that fuckin’ soaked for me, sweetheart?” Bucky’s eyes rolled back as his cock throbbed at the feel of you. Even though you were wet, your walls still hugged his shaft.

The two of you were only concealed by a pathetic thin curtain that didn’t even close all the way. It left a large gap, one that should a member of the public managed to notice, would reveal Bucky’s bare ass and your scrunched up face, moaning in pleasure at the feel of his cock.

Again, you were so far out of your realm to notice. Though Bucky did as he glanced over his shoulder and the high he got from the danger was addictive.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Bucky discreetly reached into his jean pocket with his free hand while keeping up his momentum. He was so close to the edge, balancing on the precipice of cumming, but he strived to hold on just a little longer.

Grabbing the loose change, he discreetly dispensed it into the money slot of the machine. “You think you’re gonna cum for me, doll?” he asked, short windedly while his thighs trembled.

You whined desperately around your panties, your eyes glossy from the overwhelming thread that was beginning to unravel.

“Alright. I’m gonna count down from three and you’re gonna give it to me, yeah? Can you do that for me?”

Thumping your head back against the wall, you closed your eyes and nodded hastily.

“Good. Ready, baby?” he asked.

Your nails scratched the back of his neck in approval and he began.

“Three.” He pistoned his hips, fucking you with all the energy he had left in him.

“Two.” The deep dirty grind of cock into your cunt was torturing and your thighs shook as you fought to hold out.

“One.” On his final count, Bucky pinched your clit, hard. Your eyes shot wide open at the same time multiple bright flashes blanketed the photobooth and your mouth dropped on a muted scream.

Your mind swam in ecstasy from the adrenaline filled haze of your orgasm. The pure rush of your sparking nerves was a familiar thing with Bucky and yet the sensation was so deeply gratifying every single time.

You sucked in lungfuls of air on your comedown, letting your mouth hang open while your ruined panties dropped with a wet slap onto the floor. Shivers wracked through your body and before you could even notice the coldness, Bucky enveloped his warm body around you while he stroked your cheek.

“That’s it,” he cooed soothingly while he recovered from his own intense orgasm. “Take it easy, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to you, until there was no space between you. “That was fun,” you slurred lazily.

Bucky’s tired laugh rumbled through you. “Damn fuckin’ right it was.” Lifting his head out of your neck, he kissed you delicately. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you told him truthfully. “Though you may have to help me walk because I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

He grinned, satisfied. “I’m that good, huh?”

“Oh, but I did.” Bucky said proudly. “A little souvenir of our sexual awakening.”

“Oh my god.” The shock of it rendered you speechless.

“I know, right? Now you have the photos you wanted.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. Looking back at your boyfriend, you shook your head. “I wish I could tell you off.”

“You can tell me I’m a bad boy later,” he suggested with a wink. “For now let's get outta here.”

Once he gently placed you down, making sure you were steady on your feet, the two of you sorted yourselves; tidying the mess of your sex hair and straightening the wrinkles out of your clothes. Bucky made sure to pocket your panties from the floor, leaving no evidence of your fun.

“You want to go shopping while your cum is literally leaking down my legs as we speak?” you hissed as heat crept up your neck from the thought.

Bucky leaned his shoulder against the booth and smirked. “Well, we do have to buy you some new underwear. Remember, doll?”

You so desperately wanted to smack the self-satisfied grin off his face. “You wait until we get home, you little shit.”

An excited gleam twinkled in his eyes. “Can’t fuckin’ wait, baby.��

With a huff, you exited the photobooth, begrudgingly sliding your hand into Bucky’s. Before you left to continue your shopping, however, he plucked the Polaroids from the outside dispenser.

Your boyfriend admired the photos, each one a debauched image of you with heavy, hooded eyes with your mouth hung open on a scream.

“You look good on camera, baby.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “We should make a film next.”

Trying to clench your thighs together to keep his cum from dripping down your leg, you swatted his arm. “Pfft—you wish, big boy.”

But Bucky smirked, a wickedness in his expression. “I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade you somehow.”

Author’s Note: There may be huge potential for a part two 🫣

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot

2K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago

Text

flashing lights

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only, brief smut, p in v sex, model!reader (a bit of influencer too but primarily a model), soft rafe, marriage, pregnancy

“so thats your new girl?” topper asks, eyes on you as you twirl to the music, long legs on show in the simple black dress.

“yeah, shes here for a month on vacation.” rafes also looking at you, unable to let his gaze stray, in case a man comes up and attempts to dance with you. you may not be an official item yet, considering you only met a couple days ago, but rafe is determined to spend the entire month that you’re here with you, and not let any other men pull your focus away.

“she looks so familiar.” the voice rings out before rafe even realizes that there's other people now sat in the circle of chairs and couches, too wrapped up in you.

the girl, who rafe recognizes from high school, begins to tap on her phone. “wait, shes a model.” “yeah, she told me.” rafe shrugs it off. he could have guessed your profession anyways, with how naturally stunning you are, and your height almost rivaling his, only a few inches shorter.

“no, like really famous model.” the girl turns her phone towards rafe, and he hates having to drag his eyes away from you to look at the screen, pulled open to a google search of your name.

“holy shit!” topper says for rafe, taking the phone from the girl as he clicks the first link to open up your instagram. “she has 20 MILLION followers, rafe.”

rafe glances from the phone to you as you turn to smile at him, still dancing to the music, glad to be free of all the attention and camera flashes. its why you chose the outer banks in the first place, somewhere more tucked away to take a month away from the spotlight.

“why are you so surprised, look at her.” rafe states before standing up, tired of letting you dance alone as he joins you on the makeshift dance floor, his hands coming to your waist as you give him a dazzling smile.

-- two years later --

camera lights flash and shouts ring out, but rafe is used to it now.

he smiles and waves, shocked that anyone would care about him, a nobody from north carolina, his only claim to fame is being your boyfriend, for a little over two years now.

rafe walks inside, having enough of the screaming and crowds as he takes in the area, chairs set up along a runway, a large prada sign on the white wall. your prestige has only grown since rafe began to date you, despite coming back to the outer banks several times to take a break and visit him. since rafe began to travel with you, you’ve gone from paris to milan to new york to london, gracing the covers of magazines and walking runways.

he tries to attend every show, taking on a pseudo-management role himself. your favorite part is dressing rafe in the mornings, having received clothing from so many brands, both mens and womens fit. rafe lets you choose, knowing you have the eye for fashion, and he loves to see how happy you get when he wears your outfit.

rafe walks through the seats until he finds the one with his name on it, front row. he sits down, scrolling on his phone as people begin to file in until the room is packed full.

he waits as the show begins, models walking down the runway. they don’t shine to him, not like you do when you step out, your face blank in the typical model expression as you strut down the runway, dressed in all denim with a pair of chunky sunglasses on your nose.

rafe is in awe every time he sees you work, whether its watching your fluid poses during a photoshoot or your long legs stomping down a runway.

he waits with bated breath for your second outfit, changing into a slouchy menswear-esque ensemble, only pulled in at your waist as the fabric swishes around your ankles.

he claps when everyone steps out for the final walk, but he doesn’t cheer for the designer, even if it is prada, as he makes eye contact with you, only ever a brief glance while you're walking the runway, knowing if you look for too long you will become entranced with his handsomeness.

rafe waits for you after the show along with some of the other family members or partners of the models, long after all the celebrities have gone, either to an afterparty or on to a different show.

“hey baby.” rafe smiles when you step out, hair still slicked up in a ponytail, face caked with makeup, but now in a pair of loose jeans and a plain white crop top.

“hi handsome.” you coo, pressing your lips against rafes. “did you like the show?” “i liked you in the show.” rafe says pointedly, making you blush. “are we going to the afterparty?” “nah.” you shake your head. “i have that carolina herrera show in the morning, and i want to spend some time with you.”

“i’ll never argue against spending alone time with you.” rafe says, slotting his arm around your waist as you exit the building, surprised when photographers are still waiting outside. you wave briefly before rushing towards the car, knowing the picture of you and rafe are bound to be spread all over instagram and pinterest before you even make it back to your hotel room.

“rafe, i’ve got a question.” you hum, stepping out onto the balcony, eyes looking to the ocean. you’re on a paid for vacation by a makeup brand, simply wanting a couple instagram story posts using their products in a get ready with me. you are supposed to be relaxing the rest of the time, but you crept onto your phone to read the latest email from your agent.

“what is it babe?” rafe asks as he pulls you down onto his lap, scantily dressed in only his swimsuit, not that you have worn much other than a bikini this whole trip.

“what would you think about me doing a lingerie photoshoot?” you haven’t accepted any jobs that would call for you to show off a lot of skin or be paired with a male model since you started dating rafe, lucky to be in a place to reject jobs.

“who is it for?” rafe asks.

“calvin klein. i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t them.” you admit. you find their style of black and white classic photos far more tasteful than traditional lingerie pictures.

“as long as i can be there during the shoot.” rafe says. he’s taken the role of your advocate and protector during photoshoots, easily able to read your face and speak up for you if needed, considering sometimes the models voice gets drowned out.

“of course.” you nod.

“then absolutely.” rafe pulls you in closer to his body. “i need a new lockscreen anyways.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you as you turn towards the ocean, watching the waves roll onto the sand.

you step out behind the curtain, a tight fitting sports bra contrasting the loose jeans, slung open and zipper undone to show off your underwear as well as the calvin klein jeans.

you look over to rafe, who has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as his eyes skate down your bare torso.

you most over to the white backdrop as the photographer begins to test the lighting, taking occasional snaps as things are adjusted.

the photoshoot is run just like any other and you’re finished faster than expected considering they’re solo shots and no change in location or background.

you keep the underwear and jeans on, simply throwing on a sweatshirt before getting into the taxi home with rafe, this time to your new york city apartment, having collected various homes and apartments around the world, depending on wherever you were doing business at the time. you consider the outer banks home though, returning every extended break with rafe.

“did you like the shoot?” you ask when you get home, rafe laying on bed while you tug the sweatshirt and jeans off, leaving you in just the calvin klein bra and panties.

“get over here.” rafe says, not caring about your question. he’s been desperate for you since you appeared from behind the curtain, not even trying to hide it as he watched the photoshoot, your eyes occasionally moving to him, giving him reassurance you were still good.

rafe makes you keep the underwear on, simply pulling it to the side once he’s got your back against the mattress to slide his cock deep inside of you. you push the sports bra up to let your breasts free, rafes palm instantly coming to cover your tit as he thrusts into you.

“i think you should do more shoots like that.” rafe says with a moan, cock pulsing inside of you.

“its nice to be back home.” you sigh, quickly applying some makeup, mostly just mascara and a glowy primer.

“agreed.” rafe kisses your shoulder, watching over your shoulder as you finish and then adjust your white dress, having decided to take a couple pictures on the beach for you to post as well as just enjoy a walk on the sand.

“alright, i’m ready.” you hum as you slip on your sandals. you lace your fingers with rafes before stepping out the back door. “you look handsome by the way.”

the suns golden light illuminates his skin. his outfit is simple, closer to what he wore before the fame. a simple white button down, loose fitting and you are sure would look delicious unbuttoned, showing off his muscles.

“thank you baby.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, leading you down the beach until you come across a picnic set up. you glance around before realizing its for you.

“oh my god, its just like our first date!” you gush, stepping away from rafe to look at the spread.

“before we eat, i have a question to ask you.” you turn around to realize that rafe is on one knee, a velvet jewelry box in his hand.

“oh, rafe.” you press your hand to your mouth, tears already coming to your eyes as he opens the box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “will you marry me?”

“how am i supposed to look good next to a literal model?” rafe asks as he looks towards the camera, looking almost nervous for once in his life.

“we’ve taken pictures together before rafe.” you roll your eyes, adjusting your wedding dress. it’s actually four weeks after your wedding, but you wanted to get professional photos done with your new husband and asked one of your photographer friends who was more than willing to let you into their studio if they could post some of the photos on their instagram and website.

“mirror selfies and shit, this is more serious.” rafe says as you tug him over to the backdrop.

“you look so handsome, babe. don’t worry.” you smooth your hands over his shoulders. “just think back to our wedding day, we took so many pictures then.”

“i was too distracted by how excited i was to marry you.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, the oscar de larenta dress you ended up deciding on being off the shoulder. it was a simple dress, but the closer you got you realized how intricate the lace detail is. “you look just like you did on our wedding day though, baby. the makeup artists did a great job.”

“just tanner.” you joke, having gone on your honeymoon already.

you look as the photographer begins to set up their lens, before you turn to whisper to rafe. “you can’t tell?” you question, pressing your hand to your stomach. you know there’s no way you’d already begin to show, considering your baby is no bigger than a seed, but that doesn’t stop you from getting worried about your pregnancy being discovered early.

“not at all.” rafe shakes his head, but can’t hide the smirk that comes to his face, knowing your tummy will soon swell with his child, having made sure of it many times on the honeymoon.

“i was thinking about how we could announce the baby.” you tell rafe as you pad into the kitchen. he’s still making the decaf coffee you were absolutely craving, more syrup and milk than coffee.

“how?” he hums, glancing over at you as you lean against the counter, rubbing your stomach, bump now obvious as you’re over 6 months along. you have managed to keep it a secret so far, saying you were taking a break from modeling to focus on your new marriage. there is of course a lot of speculation that you are pregnant, but it is to be expected.

“calvin klein shoot. like before, except i’ve got a big ol’ bump.” you laugh as rafe finishes you coffee off with some whip cream before sliding the mug to you. “and you can be in it too.”

rafe rolls his eyes as you giggle. “come on! the girls love you, you’re so handsome.”

“i’m not a model.” rafe argues back, but he already knows he’s going to agree, he’d do anything for you, his pregnant wife.

“yeah, but you’re hot like a model.” you shrug, taking a sip of coffee.

“i think this is just an excuse to get me shirtless and in underwear.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss to your upper lip, cleaning off the whip cream that sat on your cupids bow.

“yeah, and what about it?”

“you know theres some hormone to make women forget the pain of birth?” you hum to rafe, keeping your voice soft. “because if you remembered then no one would never do it again.”

“really?” rafe whispers, his voice also hushed as to not wake the sleeping newborn cuddled up in his arms, wrapped in a soft hospital banket.

“yeah.” you nod. “but i don’t wanna forget a moment of this.”

“im sure you wont baby.” rafe kisses your head as your tiny daughter squirms in his arms, letting out a yawn in her slumber. “i suppose i need to use a different name for you now that we’ve got an actual baby.”

you giggle, resting your head against rafes shoulder as you look down on your perfect little girl, already an adorable mixture of you and rafe.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld

#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #obx fic #outer banksoute

1K notes · View notes

har-rison-s · 11 months ago

Text

whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading

talk to me about coryo here

previous chapter next chapter

coryo masterlist main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (sawrry)

themes: smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd

gif credit goes to owner <3

something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.

her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days.

what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being.

y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely.

she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process.

the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.

“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.

“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.

as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood.

“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.

Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.

y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.

“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper.

“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.

“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees.

she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all.

y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.

his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.

last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that.

and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips.

he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words.

his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.

she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing.

“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten.

having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him.

but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again.

he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.”

god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going.

y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her.

“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering.

“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise.

“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.

he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him.

Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade.

he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?”

y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.

Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.

“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate.

suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in.

“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.

“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough.

Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled.

he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her.

“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over.

y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now.

y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.

“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face.

“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release.

“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.

“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially.

he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once.

“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination.

but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her?

but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him.

“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n.

“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,” Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took.

“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.

he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there?

his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them.

“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment.

“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood.

“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled.

“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words.

“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further.

“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him.

she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything.

permanent tag-list: @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @works-of-fanfiction @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @xoxobabydolls @corallyink @rottenstyx @allcheesemelts @dangelnleif

let me know if you want to be tagged in the future !!!

#har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s work #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #coryo smut #coryo x reader #snow x reader #thg fic #thg fanfiction #coryo fanfiction #coryo fic #coriolanus fanfic #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

fairene · 5 months ago

Text

divine / ln4

lando norris x fem!reader

reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.

where you accompany him to a gala, but he can barely focus with you in that beautiful dress. you are utterly divine.

a/n ⋯ yes so! so! well, yes! this is a pre-established relationship, yearning lando, absolutely smitten lando. just happy and mushy, but entirely too sexy for my own good. reader's dress is loosely inspired by phoebe dynevor's met gala dress. color and style is only mentioned once. absolutely up to YOU on what you are wearing;)

music inspo ⋯ link

warnings ⋯ SMUT / 18++ minors DNI!!! language, established relationship, choking (slight), p in v (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. obsessed lando ( who doesn't love that? )

wc ⋯ 6.7k (unedited.)

the gala for this evening had been marked in your calendar for weeks. you’d be reminding lando nonstop about the event, chirping his ear off about how he needed the perfect suit to accompany your gown. what gown? he would pester and ask, but you still couldn’t decide yourself. with the gala only a few days away, you were cracking down on the little bits of time you had left.

post races in imola were always fun. italy was always fun. but you knew this stretch would be more important for lando. it was a public appearance at a charity event that mclaren was sponsoring, one that helped the youth get involved in karting and motorsport all together. lando had been excited to go, but more elated to have you at his side with him.

he doesn’t think that he could get through these events without you, though. your presence was the ultimate comfort for him, easing his rampant anxieties the moment the spotlight was on him. a simple hand on his back, his neck, his waist was enough to have his body relaxing into you.

you were a natural at these things. he didn’t know what world you were sent from, but he was eternally grateful for your presence at his side.

but it wasn’t easy for you either. you held a tight facade for lando, knowing how intensely anxious he would get. he wouldn’t even eat prior to such gatherings, and would often become dizzy and lightheaded.

you placed the poached eggs with toast in front of him this morning. the plate clattered on the table as you were hurried which had him perking up from scrolling on his phone. when you passed by him to grab your own food, you ran your fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair. he leant back into your touch instinctively.

“eat quick. we’ve got to be at the boutique in a half hour.” you kissed the top of his head, his hair smelling fresh with his shampoo.

“thank you, baby.”

lando reached back to grab one of your arms, kissing up your palm, your wrist, all the way up to your bicep. his lips were warm. he even nipped at your skin which had you yelping, pulling back and smacking his face lightly with a laugh.

he was tempted to jump to his feet and hunt you down, but he knew how important this event was for you. the last thing he needed was to be reprimanded and locked out of your shared bedroom because of his inability to keep his dick in his pants.

you loved it, though.

scarfing down his meal had been the easy part. when he finished washing off his dish, you were standing by the door with your casually chic outfit that made you look divine. whereas he, by comparison, was wearing just his mclaren hoodie and jeans.

you held out your hand for him to take as you left the villa and he took it. his grip was firm and warm, bringing you a serious comfort when you stepped out onto the streets of imola, cameras flashing in your directions.

the valet had lando’s car ready in an instant and the door was opened for you. you hopped in, careful not to ruin your shoes, and you were both off to the boutique in top notch time. you loved to be early for these things– it showed people you cared. that you would make time for them.

lando kept his hand firm on your thigh the entire ride while you were on your phone. you were scrolling through text chains from alexandra and lily. alexandra wanted to know what you were wearing and lived vicariously through you, and lily wanted to know the direction you were going in. you answered them swiftly with the rapid taps of your thumbs, and they kept texting back.

when lando pulled up to the boutique he gave your leg a squeeze which instantly had you dropping your phone in your lap, head perking up to your destination. he opened the door for you, letting you out with your hand in his.

he brought your palm to his lips, gracing it with a sweet kiss. you blushed.

“ever the charmer, you are.”

“only for you, my love.” his smile was wide, cheeky as he squinted.

the boutique manager was hasty with his gowns, ready for your picking. you had told him in advance that you were looking for a longer gown– more airy and flowy versus a heavy fabric in this on-coming summer heat. you didn’t want to be a sweating mess. ew.

lando, admittedly, had been far too excited to see you in a gown. he sat languidly on the couch in front of the dressing rooms, watching as you would go through dress and dress, rejecting some of them before you had the opportunity to try them on. you were so determined in what you wanted, it drove him absolutely fucking mad.

the first dress you had tried on was beautiful– though that was his answer for all of them. to him, there was no possibility for you to look bad in anything.

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting. “can barely breathe in this thing,” you uttered, pulling at the fabric that was practically glued to your frame. lando liked this one especially because he could see your body, but you were clearly uncomfortable with it. even if he wanted to twirl you around for a kiss, his hands itching to find their place on your hips, you comfort was his biggest concern.

“well you know i like it,” he commented with a smile which had you spinning around, barely able to shift your legs beneath the tight fabric.

“pervert,” you teased, sticking your tongue out.

he had nothing to say to that except a shrug of his shoulders and his fingers running over his stubbled chin. he looked so good here, tanned and bulky. you’ve been dating him for a few years now, and you would never get used to the sight of his blistering emerald eyes, the way his arms flexed against the fabric of the couch. he yearned to touch you. you knew it. you craved it.

the next dress was an absolute no. it was far too fanciful– a large, poofy skirt with a high neckline, sleeves– too hot for this weather. you’d be tripping over the skirts the entire night, instead making yourself out to be a fool.

“fit for a queen, isn’t it?” lando said, shifting where he sat, adjusting his pants. you looked at him from the pedestal mirror, sheepish when you looked down at the bedazzled hemming.

“yeah right,” you scoffed, hating the way it looked.

but lando didn’t. you looked absolutely regal. if you asked him to bend the knee, he wouldn’t hesitate to drop to both. even with a ring for your finger.

“looks great from the back…”

“lando!” you snapped, putting a finger to your lips to beg for his silence. his hands were thrown up in defense, although he didn’t feel an ounce bad about the truth.

the final dress you tried on was…well, it was…

“look at you,” lando stood to his feet this time, entirely too enamoured to stay seated patiently like a dog on the couch. he approached you from behind on the pedestal, his fingers careful as he traced up the fabric around your hips, your back. you shivered into his touch.

the dress had been a light pink, blush tone, sheer fabric with embroidered flowers. it had a long train behind it, fabric over a shoulder, sewn and stitched in a myriad of ways that you couldn’t follow. it was utterly perfect against your skin. it wasn’t too tight, but it was form fitting enough to be appropriate. around your breasts was where the embroidery thickened, covering your nipples from the light breeze in imola’s air.

“do you like it?” you breathed, turning your head over your shoulder to lando who was dazed as he stared at you in the mirror. he turned his head to look up at you from your heightened position on the platform. there were no words that could convey the look in his eyes– sheer heat, desire, love– that he had for you.

he swallowed. his pants were painfully hard around his cock.

you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on. the only one who could make him turn his head, make him drool, have him fall to his knees. and in this dress, especially.

“baby,” he sighed, controlling his hands the best he could from wanting to rip it off of you, fuck you in this wardrobe. “you’re divine.”

you blushed, turning your head away from him. he always had you like this. speechless, puddy in his hands. you were entirely susceptible to his charm, and it had you melting at every twist and corner of his beautifully shaped lips.

“i have something for you,” he whispered, getting your attention back on him when he offered his hand for you to step down from the pedestal. you took it, eyes widening with wonder at what he could possibly have. you raised a brow, letting your same hand grip onto his forearm.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. the chain was long, but modest, and had a glowing diamond emblem embellished at the center. stable so it didn’t fling around the entire chain. you gawked as he held it out for you. you shifted closer to him until your body was perpendicular to his, your shoulder brushing into his chest.

it was a necklace that had his “ln4” logo on it. imbued with diamonds.

your fingers reached out to trace the beautiful charm, the weight of the diamonds alone was absolutely intimidating. you felt undeserving of such a piece, but prideful that he wanted it to be yours.

“lan,...” you were breathless when you turned to look up at him, his pupils dilating with yours meeting his. “it’s beautiful.”

“you said you’ve been looking for necklaces,” that was true. your neck had been far too bare. “and i’m too selfish to let you walk around without a part of me.”

you smiled. his honesty was always refreshing. his devoting nature was so unnatural, but it was so homely. you loved him. every part of him.

“turn around for me, love.” he kept a hand on your hip when you spun, chills flying up your spine when you felt his fingers around your neck. you gulped, arching your back when you felt the contact. so receptive, he wanted to say, but held his tongue.

he was swift with the clasp but he let his fingers trail down your exposed back, sheathed lightly by the fabric. you bit your lip to consolidate any noise, but were becoming riled with his hands on you.

the necklace glimmered in the mirror when you stared agape. it sat perfectly at the center of your chest, unable to be missed by any passerby. you were his. lando norris’ girlfriend. his entire life.

“i love it,” you murmured, your fingers gracing the pendant. you turned around and threw yourself into his arms. he caught you like he always did, arms wrapping around your waist with a deadly grip. but you would die happily here, you thought. in his strong arms, loved, and content.

“you’re sure?” he questioned when his head burrowed into the side of your neck. he was nervous that you wouldn’t, thinking that he may have gone too far.

your hands found his cheeks, raising his head to meet your eyes.

“i love it.” you smiled. “want everyone to know ‘m yours.”

god

he was going to fuck you right there. right here.

if not here, then tonight. tonight he would ruin you. bring you to tears around his cock, his fingers, his tongue. if there was one thing about him, it's that he knew how you worked. it would only take you minutes to come, record time for any man that’s laid his hands on you. no one compared to lando.

and he was going to fuck you so you knew it.

“is this the one?” the tailor popped in which had lando turning to see who’d interrupt at a time like this. as if you weren’t in public.

“i think so…” you said, hands detaching from lando’s warm face and down the stretch of fabric that cupped your body.

lando didn’t hesitate pulling out his credit card.

—------

“lan–” you said into his lips when you made an effort to breathe from his kiss. he shook his head, groaning, as he refused to let the both of you out the door. you had only minutes to get into the car on the way to the event, but he was too busy wanting to make a mess of you to focus.

“lando.” you said again firmly, this time putting your hand to his neck to halt his advances. you squeezed his skin, the muscles there tensing beneath you. he let his lips brush your nose before he let out a scoff.

“just too damn beautiful. can’t help myself,” his hand stroked down your neck coming to cup your chin between his fingers. you brushed your lips down, kissing his thumb. he couldn’t help but stare at the necklace–his necklace– so plainly on your chest. it was a beautiful piece, one that you knew you’d never take off. even if he broke your heart, you feared even then it wouldn’t be enough to discard.

“‘ll help you later,” your fingers held onto the bottom of his black jacket, the fabric thick against him. but he still felt your touch.

“will you, now?” he teased, finger coming down from your chin to your collarbones, dragging them to the pendant. he twirled the chain once around, then leant down to kiss it. you gasped at the action, light air warming the presence between you two.

he glanced up at you from his position, the bruises beneath his tired eyes resonated a feeling of prowess inside of you. you didn’t like that he was so exhausted, you constantly asking him if he wanted to lay down or skip the days events, but he insisted. your thumb came to caress beneath one of his eyes and he leaned into the touch.

“always, my love.” you said softly, voice hitching in your throat when you saw his tongue rake over his lip. you almost decided there that it would be best if the two of you stayed home, but the amount of money that he spent on this dress alone made it a necessity to show off.

“come on now, don’t want to leave oscar waiting.” you raised your brows, squeezing his cheek with your thumb. he raised his head to latch his teeth over your digit and you let him, biting your skin beneath his gapped, perfect, teeth.

“he’ll be fine,” lando retorted, standing up straight. “lily’s with him.”

you rolled your eyes, grabbing your clutch and fixing the adornments on your head. “but who’s with lily?”

you were met with a laugh and a shake of his head. always the jokester. a good laugh. that’s why he fell in love with you in the first place. you may be one of the funniest people he’s ever met.

arriving to the gala had more attention than expected. it was a private event, but since the drivers were in attendance, as well as some higher up wealthy civilians, it gained traction. traction that you were ready for. at least, prepared for every waking moment that you had. media training wasn’t something that you were ready for– why, you weren’t the driver. but being a girlfriend was a different story alone. you were representing lando on all fronts. how you dressed, how you acted, how you managed yourself in a crowd all reflected on him. quite the amount of pressure, wasn’t it?

lando’s hand found a home on your lower back, warming your skin beneath the thin fabric. he guided you up the steps to the high end establishment. the ground was made of marble, the rug a bright red up the colosseum of stairs. you were sure not to trip, and lando did the same with the long train behind you.

you made sure to keep your posture straight–neck back, hands in front of you, straight face. but you could do all of those except one– straight face.

there was nothing but a smile on your features when lando was bragging about you to his fans.

“she’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he’d ask one paparazzi. “there’s no way i’d be here, tonight, without her.”

ain’t that the fucking truth, you thought, knowing that dressing him was the hardest part about your evening.

the paparazzi called your name from beside him. you turned, taking a step forward.

“tell us about your dress, your accessories!” a man shouted.

“the dress is by victoria beckham,” you said, twisting your hips to show off the sheer look of it. “and the necklace,” you placed your hand atop of it before letting it fall to your side. “a gift from lando. isn’t he the sweetest?”

the paparazzi made a move to respond, but he was interrupted when lando cleared his throat at your side.

“pardon me, gentlemen,” he wrapped his arm around your waist. “but i think we’re going to be late.”

you knew you weren’t.

you chuckled anyways, saying a polite goodbye, and let lando guide you up the steps and inside the grandeur building of tonight’s event.

once you were inside you immediately stared up at the ceiling– it was a renaissance era style with gold rimming, low hanging chandeliers, and pillars made of the finest limestone in all of imola. you were floored by the interior, never thinking that you’d seen such a beautiful place before.

you were pulled back when you heard your name being called from in front of you. it was lily– oscar trailing behind her.

“you look absolutely beautiful!” lily squealed, her own dress was a dark shade of red and had no sleeves. it suited her so well.

“oh, please, you more so!” you gave her a hug while lando and oscar greeted one another.

“oh…!” lily ran her fingers over the pendant on your neck. “new jewelry, i see?”

you nodded, blushing. lando’s hand returned to your back, rubbing light circles on your skin.

“so that means no milan, huh?” lily chuckled, disappointed that your potential outing with her in the nation’s capital may be ruined. you shook your head.

“of course we can still go!” you held onto her arm whilst you talked. “but let's sit down. i’m starving.” lily and oscar led the way hand in hand to your table. you latched onto lando’s arm as you walked, feeling entirely too attached to him this evening. but he’d never mind. your affections were the only thing he craved.

you sat down when lando pulled out his chair for you, blessing him with a small ‘thanks,’ before he seated himself beside you. the meals tonight were already preselected by the chef they brought in, so there were no menus.

“do you remember what they’re serving?” oscar asked lily, but it was open for your circular table of four for discussion.

“fish, i think.” she said, still settling in by placing her bag onto the ground beside her.

you could feel lando’s grimace a mile away.

but you were already prepared.

“don’t worry,” you whispered to him, placing your hand on his thigh. he glanced from your hand to your eyes, raising a brow. you knew he didn’t like fish. as soon as you received the email about what was being served, you rang the venue. they were happy to oblige to your request of no fish for mr. norris, insisting that they had other meal options to serve him. you were entirely too grateful and thanked them a million times.

“why not? they’re so slimy…” he began to ramble, complaining like a small child. you squeezed his leg.

“i said don’t worry.” you reaffirmed, but he didn’t understand.

the attendant at your table was quick with your drinks and plates of food. the order of the event had gone: food, auction, gallery walk. but you had to admit, you were rather excited to get home instead, even though you loved a good art show.

the fish dinner was placed before you, well seared and mixed with all kinds of vegetables. lily and oscar got the same, but lando did not, it appeared.

“and…i have a medium rare steak for mr. norris.” the waiter placed down the beef in front of lando which had him turning back to face him with a smile.

“how did you know?” he asked him.

“your girlfriend called about a month ago. said you winced at the mention of fish.”

lando looked to you, puzzled, surprised, and oh-so-full of love. you batted your lashes, shrugging your shoulders with pride. you knew him well. of course you did. he wasn’t sure anyone could know him as best you did.

the waiter took his leave and his arm slung around the back of your chair. “you did that for me?” he said, bringing his lips to your ear.

“of course i did, lan.”

“i love you,” he said into your hair, kissing your scalp. “love you so much.” he repeated, slower this time so it was engraved in your memory permanently.

you grabbed his hand that rested on his lap, entwining your fingers together. “i love you.”

the rest of the event went exactly as planned. you got a plethora of compliments on your dress, your necklace–lando was partial to those ones– and found a perfect time to escape from the festivities when his hand kept accidentally groping your ass. you had to slap his hand away a few times to avoid any wandering eyes, but eventually gave up and decided that he was getting too antsy to get home.

and it was true. lando was desperate to fuck you. he had been desperate to fuck you in that dressing room, the restaurant, hell even as soon as you woke up this morning. there was never a schedule. he always wanted you.

he yearned for you intensely. the thoughts of you were consuming day in and day out, and he loved it. the only escape he found from his stressful life was in the moments he was with you. it could be in a club, the paddock, the quiet of your bedroom and he would be entirely at ease with you at his side. nothing in the world compared to you. not even racing, self-proclaimed first love of his life.

he’d never needed you as badly as he did tonight. despite every other day you spend with him, something changed. something was different about your relationship. maybe it was you in that beautiful dress, skin tight and enough to leave interpretation, or how you nervously touched your necklace when you felt anxious, or how you called ahead in advance for this event to make sure that he was comfortable with his meal.

no one would ever think to do something like that for him. not if they weren’t being paid, anyways. your love, on the contrary, was free. your affections were free. but they were ultimately priceless in his books.

and then you were leading him to your shared bedroom in your perfect villa in imola. through the hallways with your tall heels, you were an echo of perfection. he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when he kept trying to not trip over the train of your dress. it was perfection itself with his footwork and he was rather impressed that he didn’t fall on his face.

when you pulled him through the doorway, he lurched forward to kiss you but you stopped him. he was confused at first, but watched as you went to shut the door to your room. it didn’t matter if it had been open. it was just the two of you. yet that wasn’t your concern. you were making him wait. you’ve played this game with him before and always knew how it ended– you getting the best sex of your life.

you were starving the love of your life. a hungry predator that gawked at you from your leant position against the doorframe. lando outstretched a hand for you again, and you took the bait, shimmying out of your heels and breezing over to him. he snatched you up without hesitating and began to ravage your lips.

starved.

he had never known hunger until he met you. a brazen need to have you wrapped up in him, to have you beneath him at whatever the cost. you were so nimble, so genteel with your actions that he couldn’t help but fall in love with you all the same.

lando’s kiss was firm and intoxicating. you melted into him with your arms gripping his muscular neck, shivering when you felt him pulsing beneath your fingertips. his hands were on your hips when he sucked your lower lip, demanding you to open your mouth.

you let him. you always would.

his tongue found a second home in your mouth, expertly clashing his teeth with your own and making sure you never forgot the taste of him. you certainly never wanted to.

when he moved from you lips to your neck you gasped as he sucked on your sensitive skin. you cupped the nape of his neck, tugging at the firm curls with a moan. he’d find the most sensitive parts of you and attack them. you were his prey, a trophy he intended on keeping.

“lando…” you whimpered, catching your lip between your teeth in an effort to withhold your sounds. but lando’s hand came to grip your chin, thumb prodding at the entrance of your mouth. you opened wide for him as his thumb swirled against your cheeks, your tongue.

stay loud, the message was clear enough for you.

“what do you want, baby?” he asked against your neck, deep and gruff as he slid his hands up and down the fabric of your dress.

you writhed against his hold, your hips bucking instinctually against his groin. he tsked, shaking his head against your chin. his curls tickled.

“words.” he scolded, squeezing your lower back. you whined.

“need you,” your voice cracked.

“where?” his lips were on your collarbones, peppering your chest with his saliva.

“everywhere, lan, please…” he chuckled at your desperation, taking great pleasure in that you felt just as needy for him as he did you.

and then he dropped to his knees before you.

you stared. gawked at his form. he had never been like this before you– ‘course he’s eaten you out, kissed your thighs, but it was never like this. never so…vulnerable.

but whatever it is… you loved it.

your hand traced over his cheek, his jaw, nestling in with the curls on his head. he practically purred, leaning into your touch as he caged you between his legs.

his head rested on your naval as he stared up at you with those big, sappy green eyes. they were bloodshot. you moved some of the loose curls from his forehead and traced some hairs of his brows with your pinky.

“so handsome,” you whispered, biting your lip to hide a smile. a sheepish one of pure love for him. he was truly the most beautiful man you ever laid eyes on. that fateful day years ago, you knew you had to have him. and now here he was.

on his knees for you.

his head nuzzled against the fabric of your dress, biting and nipping at your skin. lando was flustered. he made a sound in the back of his throat, then finally mustered the courage to look up at you.

“i’m so in love with you.”

you blushed even more if that was remotely possible.

“my beautiful girl.”

“lando…” you gripped the sides of his face, fingers raking through his scalp.

“never letting you go.” he muttered as he found the zipper to your beautiful dress. he undid it in one swift movement, the piece falling from your body with ease. you shimmied out of it and he pulled the rest down, throwing the beautiful piece of work across the room. you giggled, knowing that he could have done much worse, but he knew how much you loved it.

he began to kiss down your bare stomach, mumbling incoherent praises against your warm skin. his lips were hot and swollen, pulsing with the only ridicules of desire for you.

“don’t want you to.” you soothed him, pulling him by his neck closer to your burning cunt. he chuckled at your eagerness, holding you steady in place by your hips, grounding you.

“even if you tried,” he placed a firm kiss on your folds which had you gasping. one of his hands left your hip and was now slotted between your legs. he teased your entrance methodically, knowing exactly how to rile you. you wiggled in his hold. “no one could get you this wet.”

it was true. you were dripping. you caught his eye, too, staring at your clothed cunt. drool pooled in his mouth, salivating at your receptive body.

“prove it,” you whispered, challenging him. his eyes snapped up to your hooded ones. “touch me, lan. please.”

he didn’t wait anymore, tossing the idea of making you beg and sob out the window. he was simply too much of a desperate man to not have you dropping down his fingers, spilling over his tongue.

there weren’t many words to summarize what he wanted to do, so he acted. the underwear that clothed your cunt was torn from your body. thankfully you didn’t care about them anyways.

his head met your breasts, kissing and suckling around the skin of them. his fingers were on you then, stroking and teasing your entrance. you writhed again and he committed, letting one finger slip inside you. the tension was palpable. you felt relief, but there was a storm building inside your lower belly.

lando’s calloused thumb was swirling over your clit, the only man in this fucking world to ever find it. it took him no time at all when he first had you in his arms. it was magical the way he could get you to cum in minutes, and he planned on doing it now.

he pinched the sensitive bundle of nerves between his forefinger and thumb, excluding a deep moan from your chest. your hips bucked towards him, desperate for him to move his finger inside of you. he complied, curling his digit upward to stroke the sensitive spots inside of you.

“fuck,” you whimpered, almost barreling over on top of him from your weakened knees, but he supported you with his free hand, clutching your side.

there was a reason he hadn’t taken you to the bed. he wanted you to remember him like this– on his knees before you, making you shiver and shaken with only three of his fingers attached to you.

the bracelets around his wrists caught the light. one that you had gifted him was staring back at you which had you clenching around nothing. he never took it off. he was yours.

his palm was already coated in your slick, a sopping mess as it traced down his wrist. he smirked, glancing upward at your face. you were flushed, shaking, and whimpering against his hold. your knees felt like they were going to collapse any second and you were going to burst at his bare hand.

and then he added a second finger inside your cunt and you thought you’d be done for.

“come on, baby.” lando cooed, which had your release building faster and faster. you felt the heat rising. his fingers are scissoring in and out of you at a steady, hard pace. it was perfect. he curled his fingers which had you jolting, eyes rolling back automatically. you grind against him, desperate to feel more, more.

“be a good girl and come around my fingers,” he said into your chest, breathing you in deeply. you were at his mercy and a complete goner. your release came faster than you realized, coil snapping and your slick gushing from your swollen cunt. your knees gave out then and he used both his hands to clutch you upwards. he supported your body entirely as you looked down at him with your tired eyes.

his tongue poked his teeth, letting out a deep breath. “all for me baby…” it wasn’t a question, but you whimpered and nodded your head anyways. “didn’t even take five minutes.”

and then his head was between your thighs, licking and sucking at the mess you had made of yourself because of him.

the overstimulation was too much. you tried to push his head away, but your own body dejected it. instead you build his mouth closer to your cunt, grinding against his face. you felt him chuckle through your pussy, the sound having you instantly flushing once again.

“what was that?” he asked, his teeth grazing over your clit. you jumped, sharp breath inhaling through your clenched teeth. “like it when i laugh that much?” he teased, knowing it to be true.

“love it, lan.” your hands tugged at his girls which had him groaning. he continued to clean you up, swirling his tongue over your clit. “love the way you laugh.”

he was shining with your praise, taking your admission to the memory bank of his heart. you always knew the best ways to compliment him. his dress pants were wet with his dripping precum, ruining the entire set. you noticed the spot when he shifted to get more comfortable on the ground. your brows furrowed.

“bed…bed, lan,” you demanded in a desperate tone. though you were close to cumming again on his tongue, you wanted his cock even more. you knew he could take the challenge, but you wanted to feel him. wanted him to see the way his necklace shimmered on your neck. “need you… need you to fuck me.”

“all you had to say, my love.” and you were on the bed in an instant, shrieking when he began to tear his own clothes off. he struggled with the buttons on his dress shirt which had you absolutely giggling.

you helped him with the clasp of his belt, ripping the thing through the loops and onto the floor. his pants were next, his boxers, and his dick sprung free and up the curve of his naval. you were left agape, swallowing harshly at his size. it always amazed you how it could fit.

“come on now,” he encouraged with a smirk, a token trademark of his. he readjusted you by grabbing your hips and plastered your back against his front. you wondered why there was a new sudden change in position until you looked up.

a mirror.

the full-size mirror that was placed on the floor near your bed was staring back at the two of you. lando ran his hands over your breasts as you straddled him from behind, up your collarbones, and stopped at the chain of your necklace.

“look so pretty f’me, baby…” he muttered into your neck, peppering you with kisses. your head lolled back into his shoulder, his dick pulsing against your back.

“for you, just you, lan.” you reiterated and he bucked his own hips, rutting against your spine. you moaned, desperate to feel his cock through your cunt.

“fuck, baby,” he choked out, thinking that he was going to cum right then and there. but he held his breath. “ride me, yeah?”

he loved it when you were on top of him, breasts in his face so he could lather himself in you. so you raised your hips and lando’s hand came to wrap around your neck, a gesture that you found you couldn’t live without. he applied no pressure as he kept you stable, but it had you absolutely dripping onto his thighs. he felt it and shivered.

when you felt his tip slide into you, you gasped, letting out a fervent moan that had the walls shaking. your head fell back to his shoulder again as he bottom out, the imprint of his cock lucid in the reflection of the mirror.

lando’s grip on your neck tightened. you whined, eyes opening.

“eyes open, my love.” he said with a gentle tone and you obeyed, raising your head only slightly to catch the pair of you in the mirror. the sight was utterly intoxicating. you were addicted to watching his face scrunch and fall into a pattern of relief with pleasure. pleasure that you provided for him.

“so big…” you said, staring at the flexing veins of his neck. he knew you loved it.

your hips began to gyrate around his cock, over and over, until you found a steady pace at which you relaxed in. he gripped your hip hard enough to leave bruises the following day, guiding you with a gentle reassurance over his cock. in and out his severed you, the feeling so fucking good. the hand around your neck dropped to stimulate your clit, and you thought you were on a one way train to heaven.

“please, please, please…” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at this point.

“look at you…” lando said into your neck, voice strained from fucking you. you did look, and what you saw in the mirror was your disheveled form, melting into his touch. you mewled, choking out a deep vibration of a moan.

tears welled in your eyes at the sensation of watching the pair of you, the pinching of your clit, and the way he penetrated you so fucking good. you knew you weren’t going to last.

“gonna cum for me?” he grunts into your ear, kissing any skin of yours he could find. “know you can baby. look so pretty in that mirror, don’t you? taking this dick so well. it was made for you.”

that was all it took to send you over the edge. he knew that. the words of sweet praise and vulgarity had you clenching tightly around his cock, letting out a mewling scream at the top of your lungs. tears fell from your cheeks that tasted salty. lando would know. he kissed them when he turned your head to face him by your chin.

he was close to his own release, sloppily sliding in and out of your tight slit. “so tight,” he grumbled, letting out his own moan when he came inside of you. the feeling of his cum was warm and fulfilling, and you didn’t complain that he spilled into your walls. he typically wouldn’t, but you welcomed the sensation.

his head fell onto your shoulder and you leaned back, your hand coming to run through his hair, pulling him close to you. you placed a kiss on the side of his head.

“i love you.” he repeated over and over into the skin of your shoulder.

“you’ve mentioned it once or twice…” you giggle, shifting from his dick still inside of you. but you weren’t upset by it. “wanna stay like this.”

lando froze.

“don’t want this to change.” you whispered, eyes locking with his. “always this, lan, promise me.”

he didn’t hesitate on your insinuation. you wanted a life with him. a future. that was more than enough. shit, it was everything.

“always this, baby.” he promised you. his finger came to twirl the chain around your neck, the pendant glistening. your skin did too in the light, flushed and beautiful.

he kissed you this time. hard and slow. full of passion, but ultimate love. you pushed back into him, cupping his cheek. and when he made a move to breathe, “always this.”

945 notes · View notes

leclsrc · 1 year ago

Text

in so deep ✴︎ cl16

genre: friends to lovers, charles has a huge crush and is a lovesick bloke, smut, humor, Fluff

word count: 13.1k

It takes you many cities, a botched Halloween costume and a failed break-in to realize how much Charles likes you. It takes Charles several years to realize he doesn’t need to do much to have you like him back. title from this

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... penetrative sex, praise central, size kink, unprotected sex

auds here… thank u for all ur love during my periods of being awol .... i wrote this over the course of a week and i hope u all like it!!! its very much a self indulgent thing... :P

The first time Charles realized he liked you, you were both posed for a picture.

It happened at a dinner party in London, in late autumn, thrown by you to celebrate your first year on the paddock as a reporter. Few friends had been invited but, with how noisy everyone was and with the ease of conversation, it felt like a houseful of people in your narrow dining area. Lando was in front of the mirror, tipsy, demonstrating his best rendition of an Irish accent to a genuinely interested Alex and Lily.

Max was playing with your pet cat, Gene Kelly, and mentally plotting a heist to sneak him out with Pierre’s help. Your boyfriend, Liam, was making himself a cocktail. And Lewis had been roaming around with a glass of dry wine and his brand new film camera to document the night’s festivities—but the host was nowhere to be found. Unbeknownst to everyone, full off dinner and tipsy off cocktails, you’d ducked into the balcony to find where Charles had run off to for the night.

The music was muffled when you shut the door, leaving it ajar just a little bit. Lissie had played Cocteau Twins and was singing whatever gibberish lyrics played, fully drunk off a bottle of Tito’s. Still laughing over her predicament, you turned to Charles and refocused your attention on him. Is it boring?

What w… what is? He asked, turning to you. Briefly his eyes flitted to your hand, the bracelets clasped onto your wrist. He noticed you held matching bottles of beer but yours remained full, nail tapping idly on the semi-opaque glass.

My party, you responded wryly, cocking your head to the side. A loose tendril of hair fell over your eye and he itched to tuck it back in place, thumb over your ear. You continued, still pressing for an answer. You left to smoke but you didn’t come back.

I like the view. A half-lie but truthful in some way. He squinted to try and make out blurry, faraway signage. I should move here. Monaco makes me sick. He tried to say it jokingly, but was betrayed by the raw tone of his voice. You hummed quietly, to signify you were listening.

So move. Who’s stopping you? You smiled slightly. Aside from your ludicrous career, of course.

You had a natural disposition of—something. He didn’t quite know how to describe it, almost like the rest of him had yet to catch up with something only his heart was already decided on. You spoke and acted with some kind of smoothness that only the most popular kids in secondary school could have reins over, but you always claimed you weren’t very popular in your teenage years. He just knew he liked hearing you talk, watching you smile. He felt something—but he didn’t want to name it even if he knew exactly what it was. Instead he played into your joke. Yeah, I’ve been told I should move to Dubai instead, become a prince.

You laughed aloud. You are terribly unfunny, you know that?

Am I? He asked. Just then, as the cotton of his tee brushed against your bare shoulder, Liam brashly tugged the balcony door open to find you. He had this drunk smile on his face, brushing his blond hair out of the way and raising a Leica to the two of you.

Hey, I got Lewis’ camera. Smile, Liam had said, eyes squinted behind it. You remained still, half-turned to the camera, and Charles gave a smile whereas you remained in a neutral, half-smiling pose. And right there, at that very moment, as a giggle escaped your lips from having to pose so quickly and even awkwardly, Charles realized with a damning force that he had a massive crush on you.

Liam had left shortly after to resume taking pictures, but would later confront you over your “weird, odd, fucking closeness with the Monegasque bloke” that you would vehemently deny despite a gut-churning feeling boiling low in your stomach. But that’s later. Your conversation continued calmly, along the passive whir of London and the streets below. You both people-watched as you thought of things to say—finally Charles said, Are you interviewing me next weekend?

I always try to get out of it when it’s with you. You rolled your eyes, feigning irritance, then smiled to break the illusion. I think so.

I’ll make sure I have good answers. You’re too smart. Hurts to be in the same room.

Like you aren’t, you said back, but the rebuttal is shy in nature, like he struck you with a compliment so high you couldn’t bear to return it. He felt then like this was the kind of moment where you would start holding hands any minute, timid touches between clinks of bottles. He remembered Liam existed and screwed his eyes shut. He wished so hard to be able to kiss you. Abandon all sense and just kiss you.

—

“It’s 2023 and still London has the most rubbish ass, fucking cunt, stupid wanker stoplights,” Lissie huffs beside you, checking her watch. “Right then. We’re going to be late. You know how Lando is when people are late. Especially because this is his event.”

“We’re not people to Lando,” you reason, tapping the steering wheel. The ETA on your navigation app tells you you’re still twenty minutes away. “We’re his best friends. If he can’t forgive us, we should kick him out of the group chat.”

“Ooh, and add Alex,” Lily pipes up from the backseat, where she’s redoing her eyeshadow to pass the time. “I keep telling you guys he’s funnier than Lando.” Both you and Lissie make faint, vague sounds of dissent and she grunts again, deflating.

“No boyfriends in the group chat,” Lissie repeats an age-old rule that’s been around for as long as you three (four, including Lando) have been friends. “Or girlfriends, in Lando’s case, but we haven’t worried about that much, have we?”

You’re all en route to watch Lando crank out a brand-new deejay set, one he’s spent the summer break working on. It’s all house and inspired by beach music, and he’s very proud of it, so of course you’re all showing up to laud him. You’re not the only ones, though, apparently—whoever’s in the city is showing up to show their support, which includes a whole stretch of drivers.

“Oh, my God!” Lily says all of a sudden, eyes wide at something on her phone; you both gesture for her to show you and she does with speed. “Do you guys remember this? God, Instagram archives are a godsend.”

“Your dinner party in Chelsea!” Lissie coos, immediately sidling into a fond awwww! You tap at the story Lily had then posted: a video of everybody eating. You tap again to view the one she posted a few days later, which was a collage of Lewis’ camera scans he’d gotten developed overnight. There in the upper right corner, you almost immediately spot your photo with Charles.

“Oh, Christ, that picture.” Memories of your subsequent arguments with Liam flash past your head. Playfully, all you say is, “And I never had a boyfriend again.”

“Liam was an Irish arse, anyway.” Lissie scoffs. “Nobody liked him. Lewis joked about cleaning his camera after he used it that night. Plus, you actively avoid dating, so don’t complain.”

“Fair,” you say with a slight smile. Your mind lingers on the picture, the imprint of it burned fresh into your mind.

“You—it’s also because you can’t take a hint, babe.” Lily says matter-of-factly. “Who knows how many guys have, you know… fancied, or, like, had crushes on you, and you just never knew?”

“Are you saying somebody fancies me?” You ask, voice whittling out playfully as your eyes count down the seconds to the green light.

Funnily, silence is all that answers. Beside you, Lily and Lissie exchange a look—one that communicates their years-long amusement over your cluelessness. You whirl back to them, eyebrows raised, and double down: “Wait. Does somebody fancy me?”

“No!” Lily ekes out; you don’t miss Lissie’s poorly-hidden laugh. “No. I’m just—it’s just—no.”

Truth is, it truly seems like the only person in the entire paddock (team and Sky Sports staff included) who hasn’t caught on to a certain somebody’s boyish crush is the crush herself, oblivious as ever, even years and years later. One might think you’d have realized eventually, but perhaps owed to your type A personality and immersion with work, and Charles’ pathetic and total inability to express how much he likes you, the crush has always remained just that, despite your two friend groups’ best efforts to hint at it.

It wasn’t to say, though, that you didn’t sometimes entertain the idea of liking him, too. On that one rainy race weekend when he’d brought you a plastic cup of soup, and embarrassed, laughed sheepishly at Lissie’s joking request for one; then returned twenty minutes later with soup for everyone in the media pen. Or that time in Monaco where he’d pretended to be your boyfriend at a bar to ward off a creepo from hitting on you any further. Or another time, in Budapest, when he’d drank half his body weight in jello shots and slurred out a goofy, heavy I’m soooo sorry, baby while you helped him into the passenger seat of his car.

That one, singular time in Cancun you told your friends once and never again.

But those are isolated incidents, you suppose; plus, dating someone you work with has never seemed like a remotely good idea to you, and you don’t think it ever will.

For all your thinking on the topic, you fail to realize that you don’t know much at all—you don’t know the fact that Charles has liked you for years, after getting to know just how charming and funny you were as a friend. You don’t know that he still gets gut-churning butterflies when he sees you, hands shaky and face tinged pink. You miss the fact that he’s not had any long-term partners in the years of his liking you. You don’t know anything.

“Don’t lie.” You narrow your eyes as you rev the car and continue the trip.

“We’re not,” Lily says loudly and a touch too defensively, crossing her fingers. Quietly, she continues, “You should just pay more attention.”

Whatever she meant to say is lost on you as soon as you make a left and spot the club Lando’s at, already teeming with high-profile guests and their high-profile cars. Half an hour later you’re in—valet and being on the guest list effectively cuts your entrance time in half. You separate at the entrance—you, to find Lando; your two girls, to find your reserved table. You find him eventually, busy behind the booth churning out high-frequency tropical music; he pauses for half a beat to flash a huge grin and a thumbs-up before redirecting his attention to the knobs and sliders you can’t seem to guess the functions of.

These kinds of parties are affairs in and of themselves. They mimic the afterparties during the season—nothing if not shows of opulence and networking: champagne paid for by business magnates, yachts that barely make dents in anybody’s wallets, thick CVs, fruity cocktails spilled on pieces of clothing that cost upward of 3000 pounds. You make eye contact with at least seven skeevy businessmen before you spot your friends, but only because you hear them first—by them you mean Lissie, her loud voice raised even more to match the noise at this club.

“I said I didn’t fu—ugh—I don’t want ye fahkin’ champagne,” she slurs out to an old man in a pressed suit, eyebrows knitted angrily. “Got it?!” Behind her, Lily and Alex (who’s arrived now, apparently) watch, concerned and helpless to stop her but equally (perhaps more) entertained.

You step closer and make a move to calm down the exchange taking place, but somebody whispers a “hey” in your ear and startles you. You turn, and come face to face with Charles. His black tee accentuates the breadth of his shoulders, which you connect to his crossed arms; there’s a shy, boyish grin playing on his face. “Oh, Charles!” You smile. “Hey! Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Thanks,” he says with a grin, straining to raise his voice. “You look—you look well. Are you alone?”

“No, I’m—” You turn to your three friends nearby, and to Lissie’s argument heating up. “I actually have to go.” You raise your thumb, jabbing it toward them. “But hi again… again!” You both laugh, but he laughs much louder. “I’ll see you around.”

“I jus—” He says, and you stick around for a second to hear him say what he has to say.

“Yeah?”

He clears his throat and laughs stiffly, abandoning his previous statement in favor of a new one. “I just…. want… to have a great time.”

“Ohhhh,” you holler, nodding, clearly trying to mask your extreme confusion under a polite smile. “Okay, well… go ahead!”

You smooth down your dress and laugh again, evidently more forced but, unfortunately for Charles, not any less pretty.

You carry yourself in a very pretty, graceful way, loud and quiet at the same time, like your confident voice when you’re holding the mic and asking questions or making drivers laugh. He might sound creepy, though, a touch too observant, if he tells you so. He observes you instead, for a second, the low cut of your dress and the way the red overhead light shines on your exposed collarbones—and then you’re leaving. He watches you walk over to hug Lily, realizes how stupid he’s sounded, and smothers a hand over his face, humiliated.

—

“I just want to have a great time?” Max’s jaw drops and he shakes his head, disappointed above all else. “Charles, what the actual. Like…. fuck?” They’re all camped out at the latter’s hotel room, around the dining table, in varying states of sober and doing different things to wear off the last hour of the night before they’re all due to train or debrief again in the morning. Charles had relayed the disaster of the night to everyone at some point, but Max is the last to hear of it; this, unfortunately, does not inoculate him from the shock and secondhand embarrassment.

“Pierre told me to—” Charles starts, forlorn.

“Oi, no. I told you to say something like I just wish… I’d seen you sooner,” interjects the Frenchman with a tut. “You know, flirting? Not… whatever the fuck you said.”

“I didn’t—I was—I lost my mind,” he groans, burying his head in his hands. It couldn’t possibly be entirely his fault when you looked so pretty tonight, hair down and a wash of glitter on your eyelids. Just subtle little flecks of them. They brought out your eyes, too. And your blush, the pink flush of it that sat high on your cheekbones.

“…llo? Charles.” He blinks and sees Carlos’ deep eyes, wide and staring right at him, so pointedly he’s genuinely startled.

“Jeeesus fucking Christ. What?” He places a melodramatic hand over his chest. “Yeah?”

“What do you mean with the”—Carlos mimics his confused expression—“I asked you a question, tonto.”

“Don’t bother with him,” chimes in Pierre, half-distracted by his phone. He looks up with a devious smile and continues. “He’s still thinking of Miss Reporter of the Year.” A round of loud, jovial laughter makes its way across the table, a few teasing quips being chimed in here and there.

“I just,” mocks Pierre from across the table, adopting a sing-songy tone as he bumps his shoulder to Carlos’ with a mocking laugh. “Wanna have a great time.” His voice is much higher and more mocking, which is enough to send Charles into a fit of petulant embarrassment.

“This isn’t sixth year,” he grits out quietly, but the blush on his face could just as well be plastered on the cheeks of a twelve-year-old. “Give it a rest.”

“Mate.” Pierre’s voice mellows into something more austere. “You do know she’s leaving the reporters’ job at the end of the season? She’s going to London full-time. No more seeing her all year round. You know this. And I keep telling you. If you are really, and I mean really, interested, I say go for it. C’est la fucking vie, yeah?”

“Plus, if she says no, you can go for pretty much anyone else, anyway,” concludes Max with a convinced smile.

“It’s not the same,” he admits helplessly, smothering his hands over his face in bleak frustration. Behind his eyelids he sees you still, beautiful and smiling and funny—he seriously needs to institutionalise himself before he goes even more mad with the years-long malady he’s called a crush. And seriously, for a twenty-something to have something he calls a crush is despicable in itself. He feels juvenile.

“I can’t tell her. She’s always told people that dating coworkers is a bad idea.”

“You’re not coworkers.”

“We’re—well, we still work closely together. It is the same.” He groans. “It’s just… I’ve said it before. If I admit I like her, things will become awkward. I’d rather we remain friends.”

“Well… see, nobody said you needed to tell her,” begins Pierre schemingly, eyebrows raising. Around them, everybody groans at the birth of another Pierre-brained scheme that will, no doubt, need the enlistment of everyone’s help and will likely end in disaster. “What?! I’m just offering… I’m just saying, mate—you’ve liked her since forever. Why not make a move?”

“—I can’t—”

“Without telling her?”

“Pierre,” groans Carlos, ever the voice of reason, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t—whatever this is you’re planning, it’s going to go to shit. I swear.”

“You are acting like I plan to take somebody hostage.” Pierre shrugs. “You know, girls like when you don’t tell them straight up. You have to show you like them. You know, be interested in the things they’re interested in, compliment them, make them laugh. And then they think, oh, how thoughtful, oh, how adorable, and before you know it, they like you. And you’ve got yourself a girlfriend.”

“Mmm. Uh-uh. Untrue.” Max says decisively, shaking his head. “I told Kelly I liked her.”

“Yeah, sí. I told Isa I liked her, too.”

“Will you two—just—” Pierre gesticulates and makes a funny noise that insinuates just go with it. “Okay?” he points out to the latter, rolling his eyes. He turns back to Charles with a ready, dazzling, so-French-it’s-scary grin and continues. “I suggest you let us be your wingmen and help you charm her.”

“Whoa, whoa, wh—us? You’re on your own here,” Max quips with a laugh. “It’s your stupid idea.”

“It’s not stupid, and it’s going to work. She probably likes you already.” His confidence carries the lie with gusto. “We just need—you just need to show her instead of saying the dumbest shit to her face.” Pierre leans back into his chair and shrugs matter-of-factly. “Max and I will be regular wingmen, but we have a secret weapon.”

“Don’t—” Carlos starts with a sigh.

“Yes. Lando, Lily, and Lissie are all close to her, eh? Well, perfect—Carlos will get information from Lando about things she likes, you gift her those things or talk to her about them, bam she’s in love. It’s literally a perfect plan.”

Maybe it’s worth it. Maybe—

“No.” Charles shakes his head firmly, setting the record straight. “This will not work. Who’s to say she even needs a boyfriend?”

—

Despite what his best and closest friends—on and off the paddock—might have you believe, Charles hasn’t always been so hopeless when it came to trying to catch your heart. His closest call came in Cancun, after a long weekend of racing and a flight to the area, early into the night where he thought he was the only one who decided to opt out of partying.

Your skin’s peeling. You turned from where you sat on a barstool observing the shore, startled, immediately relaxing when you found him standing there eyeing you. Your hair was still damp, crunchy with saltwater, and your skin had tanned considerably, a sunburn sitting on the bridge of your nose. You stuck your tongue out.

I spent the whole day swimming. He observed your bikini, yellow and green contrasting the colour of your skin. He blinked slowly, ordering himself a drink to hopefully pass the thoughts away. His eyes couldn’t stop, though, wandering, the translucent material of the scarf you’d tied loosely around your hips, the tinge of heat on your shoulders and nose. I’m burnt everywhere.

There are remedies for that. He smiled around his glass.

I’m aware, you said lightly, crossing your legs and sliding your finger along the salt rim of yours. But just in case I forgot, maybe you could refresh my memory.

Your voice was so sweet, so low, so tempting. Already he knew he was wrapped around your finger, the same finger picking up grains of salt to press on your tongue peeking between your smiling lips. You brought your glass to your lips. It had been some time since the dinner in London so he pressed, his voice deep and a little rough, Liam can do that for you, I’m sure.

Pity, you said meekly as you set your glass down and looked back at him. He’s not my boyfriend anymore.

Out of eyeline, the bartender’s eyes widened at the exchange he was overhearing.

Is it a pity? He asked, leaning backwards and cocking his head to the side. It’s easy, an easy glide of conversation, flirt, something he’s wanted for a while now. To have you playing into him, and have himself playing into you, just like this. It was naturally easy in a foreign city where nobody knew who either of you were, where you were just two strangers flirting at a beachside bar.

Two strangers laughing while they dug their toes into the sand. Two strangers basking in the water, tinted orange by the sun dipping below the horizon, scarf untied in favor of one last swim before night fell. There was nothing keeping either of you from doing whatever you wanted. Nothing keeping Charles from finally acting on the attraction that honest to God crushed him.

You ended up leaning on the door of your hotel room, keycard fiddled in-between your sandy fingers. You combed a hand through your hair and offered a shy smile. So.

So, he replied, leaning closer. So.

Sooo. You were laughing and your breath smelled like a mint leaf and vodka. You looked up at him, blinking slowly. I have a rule.

What rule is that?

I don’t date coworkers. He wanted to dip down, place a hand on the dip of your waist, and kiss you.

Pity, he said gruffly instead, a smile forming on his face.

Is it a pity? You chewed on your lip and looked at his barely parted ones, pink and pretty. When I’m about to break it? He was about to help you do just that—eyes fluttered shut already—when a crash resounded from down the hall and you both turned to find the culprit. You broke apart and with your separation, whatever atmosphere of tension you’d built up popped, too, leaving you awkwardly standing beside each other.

Oh m… Lissie? You asked, leaning closer as you recognized your friend more and more. You narrowed your eyes, watching the girl crawl her way through the carpeted floor. Oh, Jesus—let’s—get you—

You both hauled her up and wrapped either arm around your shoulders, unlocking her hotel room with great effort and tossing her onto the bed. You stood back and sighed at her half-blacked out state, slightly amused but ultimately relieved she ended her night unscathed.

She pried one eye open and sleepily, she groaned out, what were… you two… doing together outside your room?

Nothing, you said quickly, face warm and eyes wide.

Because you—Lissie raised a lazy finger in your direction—don’t date coworkers.

I wasn’t—it wasn’t—goodnight, you spluttered, eyes refusing to meet Charles’ even as you both exited the room, paying him quiet thanks as he pulled the door back closed.

Sorry, you said, pretty as ever. The light shone on the red splotch on your nose. Goodnight.

And so he went to his room that night, bummed out and still high off your scent.

—

“You’re staring again.”

“I’m not,” he lies through his teeth, averting his eyes away from your figure by the shore. Sue him if he was staring (which he wasn’t… but most definitely was) but he finds you much too pretty. After the disaster that was the Mexican GP, he figures he could use some sort of stress reliever. Apparently he was not alone in thinking this, considering half the paddock hauled ass to Cancun and prompty partied.

Across Charles, Joris and Pierre share a knowing look that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I said I’m not!”

“So you are not staring at her blue swimsuit then?” Joris tests, mouth twisted into a devious smirk. “It’s black,” Charles says matter-of-factly before catching sight of his friends’ smug expressions and realizing he’s implicated himself. He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, petulantly almost. “And I wasn’t. Can you fucking—fuck off?”

“Just ask her out already,” Pierre groans, nodding when Joris chimes in with agreement of his own. “I seriously can-not handle another bar of this shit. It’s been years.”

“I don’t know how to,” he laments. “It’s going to be awkward if I do it all formal, and she’s going—she’ll laugh at me, and it’s…” He blows a raspberry. “Non. Pointless.”

“Just kiss her at the party,” reasons Joris with an easy attitude, shrugging.

“Joris! Charles didn’t know about that,” Pierre says, trying to lower his volume, but it’s pointless since they’re barely a metre apart. “Fucking tattletale.”

“Party?!” Charles repeats, eyes wide. “Why don’t I know about a party?!”

“It’s a Halloween party,” Joris says, a wacky grin on his face. “And you said it yourself, didn’t ‘cha? You told us not to tell you if any functions were happening because you’re too tired to go to any. Too… too wrapped up racing.” He laughs. “Or something of the sort.”

“Well the season’s ending,” he huffs, wringing firm fingers over his face, his shut eyes, “and I still fucking haven’t… so I think I’m afforded a party.”

“Alright, then come to the party! Dress code, Halloween. Sexy Halloween.” Pierre wiggles his eyebrows. “You know, speaking of our plan, Carlos overheard Lissie and Lily talking about what your girl’s costume is going to be.” He leans in closer and laces his fingers together. “She’s going as a… Christina.”

“Christina?” The other two echo, confused.

“Christina. I did some digging, and I think it’s this.” Pierre scrolls and dicks around on his phone for a minute before turning it back around to Joris and Charles, who peek with great interest. They seem to be looking at an outdated movie poster of—

“Cas-per the friendly ghost,” Charles reads aloud, trying to get his accent to dissipate. “Huh. What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a movie, idiot.” Pierre shuts his phone off. “Starring who? Christina Ricci.”

“Vraiment? You think his crush is going to show up wearing… a white gown?” Joris asks, his mind stuck on the outfit he’d seen just seconds ago. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“Well Carlos and I agreed, so. Two to two. And Carlos says she and her friends always wear silly costumes like these. So if she shows up as Christina, what better way to start conversation than to dress up as Casper?”

Charles’ eyes widen with comical horror. “No. No, no, no. Did the ghost and the kid fuck?”

“No!” The two men across him yell in unison.

“Right!” He gesticulates. “So it’s not a couples’ costume!”

“But it’s still—” Pierre pauses. “It still matches. Trust me on this one, mate.” He smiles. “We even brought the supplies.”

—

The party is a hit as soon as Charles and his group enter. The former finds refuge at the table, unwilling to socialize. Pierre roams for a bit and ends up finding you almost immediately—you’re wearing low-waisted pants, a strappy top, and you sport alternating streaks of blond and black in your hair.

“Hey!” He calls, jogging up to you. “I heard you were coming as a Christina. Guess who I am?”

You rake a hand through the streaks in your hair and smile. “Not just any Christina. The artist. Xtina? You know?” You twirl a bit, the dark material of your strappy pants swishing as you go, as if the movement will help Pierre deduce the costume’s identity. “Whatever. You’ll get it. Lando is—we’re matching tonight, but I g—it wouldn’t make any more sense if you don’t understand it.” You sigh a bit and gesture vaguely to the crowd behind you, referring to the Eminem-dressed Lando, who you guess is currently caught in the thick of.

“Xtina?” Iks-tina, he repeats, clearly confused. “I remember hearing… somebody saying you were going as a… a Christina.”

“Chris-tina, Xtina, yeah. Christina Aguilera.” You smile, fingers pinching at the material of your belt. “Anyway—where is everyone? I’ve only seen Daniel’s costume and then yours.” The recent memory of Danny’s neon orange traffic cone costume bumping into everybody flashes in your mind.

“Save yourself,” he huffs, smoothing calloused hands over the denim of his jeans. “Zhou and Esteban came as Bella and Jacob, Max as a Tifosi. Anyway”—he points to his ensemble—“guess yet?”

Your mental images of each cited costume are cut short. “Aha! You’re, um. Yes! You’re Ken from the Barbie movie,” you crack finally, remembering the revealing denim vest and jeans combo from the film you’d watched four times over in theaters a few months ago. “Wow, even your briefs say Ken. Very accurate. Minus the non-bleached hair.”

He tuts and shrugs. “I’m no Alex. What’d he come as?”

“He and Lily matched—Sonny and Cher.”

“Let me guess,” Pierre starts, and already you’re nodding because you can tell he’s going to predict exactly how the night has turned out, “Alex is Cher?”

“Wig and sequined dress and all.” You nod, laughing and squinting; Alex’s tall figure, head clad in a long, fringey, black wig, stands out above the rest. “Oh, I did see Carlos at the bar. Ricky Martin?”

Pierre really laughs at that, a loud, distinctly French guffaw involuntarily forced past his lip glossed mouth. “What the fuck, mate! Ricky Martin?! He’s El Profesor from La Casa de Papel. You know, Money Heist? Bella ciao? Oh, my God, he’s going to fucking freak if he hears—heard you said that.”

“He seriously gave off Ricky Martin vibes,” you defend in-between laughs of your own. “So that’s everyone? Oh—oh. Charles! What did… I never saw him! He kept telling me how excited he was for his costume, too…” Just a few hours ago, at that—a boisterous voice honing into the your voicemail inbox, boasting about a costume while you prepped for the party with Lissie and Lily. Your eyes peruse the room, but the lighting is too dark and vague for you to make out anything you haven’t already seen.

“Oh. Charles?” Pierre’s voice lilts higher. “Um. Yeaaah. Um.”

You, however, are sufficiently distracted by your own search for him, and you fail to notice Pierre’s clear scrambling attempt to stall you. He takes a long swig of beer and clears his throat. “He’s just, well, around. I should actually—excuse me, I need to actually go look for him. I owe him a drink.”

“Oh? Oh, okay. Well—be careful?”

You’re a bit surprised by his sudden, jolted departure, but bid him a rushed goodbye anyway. He waves back vaguely, his eyebrows furrowed into an expression of worry as he shoves his way back into the crowd and toward the area littered with tables. It’s only then that Lissie surfaces from the crowd, scratching absently at her nose as she crashes into you with a floaty giggle.

“Lis, you’re all sticky.” You place two palms flat against her shoulders and push her off. “Are you high?”

“Yes but not drunk.” She giggles again, eyes fluttering.

“Oh—that’s not. Whatever, I guess.” You exhale and cross your arms over your chest. “Who’ve you been with?” She listens, plays with the braid in her hair, matching her getup as Lara Croft.

“Um, the deejay. I gave him my number, but he’s actually pretty fucking weird. Come on, I want to pee.” As always, her speech quickens to something inhuman, an effect elicited by alcohol; giving you essentially zero time to react, she loops a hand around yours and drags you with ferocity to the nearest restroom. She moves so aggressively through the thickly-packed crowd you barely have time to react or say hi to people you’re acquainted with en route.

You whiz by the door, and in the rush, you notice Pierre entering the one adjacent with a worried expression etched onto his face. Just minutes ago you’d been conversing—you wonder why he’s suddenly become privy to worries.

“So the deejay,” says Lissie, effectively distracting you for the time being. You hum to signify you’re listening, fixing bits of your outfit in the mirror as she kicks different stalls open to judge their cleanliness. “One, he was dressed up as James Bond. Which is just about the most fucking pretentious thing ever. Two, all he played was Chainsmokers. You’re telling me this pub—club—whatever—in Mexico could only afford to commission this guy? Three, he was”—she kicks the last door open and a gasp escapes her and morphs into a semi-shriek—“a ghost?!”

“Ghosted you? Already?” Your eyes, focused previously on re-lining your lips, flits to Lissie’s in the reflection. She’s distracted, staring at the contents of a stall with comically wide eyes. “What’s up? S’that a fucking glory hole or something?”

“No!” She yells when you approach, immediately lunging forward to pull it shut. “No. It’s—I saw a roach. Serves us for going to a fucking… pub. Don’t go in there, it’s…” She exhales a long breath. “It was a mama roach and… with eggs.”

“What are you talking about?” This isn’t even a pub, it’s a nightclub—one with a door fee that definitely did not warrant rogue cockroaches in the water closet. “Lis, you’re drunk-hallucinating.” You’re not even sure if that’s a thing, but you shove past her and push the stall door open again, ready to come face-to-face with, maybe, a sleeping Tinkerbell or a puking black cat. Worst case scenario, shit on the floor; worst-er case scenario, Lissie is right and you’ve stepped into a den of roaches.

Weirdest case scenario, though, if that’s an actual thing: Charles Leclerc seated on the closed toilet seat, face painted white, wearing an all-white ensemble of a large white shirt, shorts, high socks, and sneakers. He’s got two hands on either side of the wall, as if he’d been preparing to escape; how or to where, you’re clueless. Why he’s here, you’re even more stumped.

His entire face is a stark white, with black smudges of face paint on his forehead (eyebrows, you’re guessing); his hair’s been curled by the humid air at this club, and he looks like himself in all the ways he totally does not, eyes big and caught when yours click onto them.

Despite confusion, you chalk it up, as one would rationally do at a party, to intoxication. You spend a few bated breaths staring at him staring at you, his face of pure shock and embarrassment enough to sober up a drunk for a few days. “Hi.” You can hear yourself say it, but you’re so caught off-guard and full of confusion it feels alien.

“Hey,” he says, wiping four fingers over his stubborn face paint with a smile. The smile and the paint barely fade. “I’m a ghost.”

“I see. Classic.” You pause. “I’m Chr… nevermind. Um—are you okay?”

“A bit, uh—a tad bit drunk. I seem to be in the ladies’ room.”

“Yeah, you seem to be,” you recite back to him, amusement quickly overtaking confusion. “I think Pierre was looking for you. Let me go get him. Lis, make sure he doesn’t…” You gesture a puking movement, and the pair watch and listen to your shoes click against the tile, before the door swings open and then shut again.

“Coast is clear.” Lissie’s voice has been lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. “I reckon everyone you know is already looking for you?”

“This is a disaster.” He rubs frantically at the face paint, but it’s horribly futile. “You know, I didn’t even realize I was in the ladies’ room until you two came in. She cannot see me like this.”

“She already fucking has, mate.” Lissie sounds exasperated. “Whose idea was this? If you say Pierre I swe—”

“—Pierre—”

“—ar to Jesus fucking Christ, Charles—I can’t keep saving you from Pierre’s antics.” She grumbles out a sigh. “What are you supposed to be, even? Have you—did you see how hot she looks? This is like… you look like a… I can’t—” She lets herself taper off, so disbelievingly shocked at his odd costume.

“I’m Casper the Ghost!” Lissie mentally forms a crude picture of the kid ghost, which looks absolutely nothing like what’s in front of her. “Casper was opposite Christina Ricci. Pierre told me so.”

“That’s the dumbest analogy ever, holy Christ. You look like a poster child for some…” She regards him for a moment. “Anemia advert.”

“Take that back.”

“You don’t really have the upper hand here, Charles,” says Lissie with a grimace. “I’m texting Pierre. Are you—did you even get drunk?”

“No,” he woes. “I am totally sober. I had to lie. Pierre went to the table and told me that my—that the costume we planned—it was wrong, and I just—I ran to the bathroom.” Lissie can’t help but laugh at the story, raising her camera to record the incriminating evidence.

Mid-video, Charles’ white face droops and his painted lips part to ask: “You think she found me cute?”

—

Charles likes finding things about you. He supposes the first time he realized just how much he liked hearing you talk about yourself—which you rarely did—happened in São Paulo. He’d been stressing over a spiel to recite in front of a camera, rewriting over words for hours to make everything sound more natural.

Each margin had been hastily written on with pencil, run-on sentences with semicolons in the place of periods. The team scriptwriter didn’t do much to make his lines sound more natural and less like they’d just been spat out of an online translator. You peeked into the media pen and coughed. You don’t belong here, do you?

Tch, he clicked his tongue, turning to offer a smile. I’m working on a script for Sunday. Portugese stuff.

I can help, you responded, walking slowly over toward him. You smiled quietly, approaching slowly like you were waiting for him to greenlight your offer. He did so by pulling a chair out for you, and once you sat you traced a nail over each line, murmuring them under your breath.

You speak Portugese?

You looked up and gave a half-shrug, laughing like you were amused with yourself. Kind of. It’s not very good, but it’s enough. You resumed your editing and he felt content to stare, admire, watch every movement of your lips align with the syllables of the words. You asked for a pencil and began writing something much cleaner. He couldn’t help but let himself be in awe of your intelligence.

You read over the last few lines and turned to face him. Let me guess, you said. You want to make a pun on Ferrari before you say bye.

Ah, he laughs. Yeah.

See, I know you so well, you half-joked, scrawling idle edits on the margins of his script.

He was already looking at you when you turned back to him, seeking his response, agreement, anything. When your eyes met, something caught at your chest—it tugged, tugged, then tugged again, a dull feeling burrowed deep in you. Words failed to wrench themselves free, but once they did, all you could manage was a faint—What?

Nothing. He smiled and shook his head, like he was waiting for you to figure it out. You know… sometimes, I wish I met you sooner. He does. He wishes he knew you back then, when you first learned Portugese. Or when you were in high school, so you could see just how exponentially awkward he was in his own teenage years. He thinks sometimes that he’s lost too much time, met and liked you too late.

Hm, you breathed out, because you didn't know what else to. I know why—so you could always have me. As a proofreader. Right?

Hah. The tilt of his laugh was high and mocking, and he stuck his tongue out, as if to punctuate that. He looked away then, like he wasn’t ready to say certain things to your face just yet. Quietly he added, Always have you… something like that.

—

If you ask Charles what he’s doing hiding in a laundry basket of a luxury hotel in São Paulo, he wouldn’t be able to answer you, either. It’s been some time since the disaster that was Caspergate Cancun 2023, and if he’s perfectly honest, he doesn’t feel like facing you again for the rest of his life. Pierre, of course, has other plans.

All he knows is last night, Pierre suggested he leave a huge vase of roses for you to arrive to in the living room of your hotel; as he planted it in said room, the door’s lock turned, and he sought a hiding place in the adjacent bedroom. Judging by the prevalent scent of Dior Sauvage, this is Lando Norris’ room.

Did u get to escape??? Pierre’s text irritates him. At the same time, the light flips on; Charles curls in on himself, remaining perfectly still. Lando’s voice trills through the room. “I didn’t leave those roses for either of you,” he’s saying to you and Lissie.

Charles hears you hum. “They’re so beautiful.” His heart swells. “I gotta run for a sec, pick up something from Will’s room.” A few seconds pass and the door opens and shuts, which means Charles is currently alone with Lando and Lissie. Which means he needs to plot his escape as soon as he can. Otherwise he’ll be caught in the crossfire and much too embarrassed to—

A foot meets his concealed body and he lets out an oof! as he’s sent flying out of the hamper, along with strewn-around clothes. He keeps his eyes screwed shut, scared shitless and in a fetal position; he only unfurls when a socked foot kicks at his ass. Above him are Lando and Lissie, both extremely confused.

“How did you know I was…?!” He asks, aghast.

“My fucking laundry was breathing, mate, s’not that hard to leave alone,” Lando retorts sharply. “What are you doing?!”

“I left roses for her,” he explains fruitlessly, gesturing to the vase outside. “But you came in, and this was the closest hiding place. I was told this would be a great gesture.”

“Right. Where did you even get that advice?” Lando tries to suppress the critical tone in his voice, but judging by Charles’ embarrassed grimace, he’s failed. Beside him, Lissie makes a hm? noise, goading Charles to answer quicker.

“I got it from.” Charles pauses. “A friend,” he ekes out vaguely.

“No shit. Who?”

“Um—” Charles’ eyes are shut. “Pierre.”

In unison, Lissie and Lando both release incredulous gasps, throwing their hands up in the air. Lissie points at the mess of clothes in the corner of the room to emphasize her point and asks loudly, with comical cynicism: “This seemed like proper romantic advice to you?”

“Scratch that. Pierre’s words seemed like proper romantic advice to you? His girlfriend is—!” Lando places a flat palm a few inches off the floor and shakes it a few times to insinuate Kika’s age, his disbelieving expression growing funnier by the second. “Mate!” His voice cracks mid-syllable, though even this mishap seems to be the least crazy thing about tonight.

Charles, burning with humiliation, releases a shaky sigh. “I know! I know!”

“You don’t know!” They shout simultaneously in response, disappointed if anything. Just then the door opens again and your two best friends hurry to throw assorted pieces of laundry on the lying Charles, exiting to make sure you don’t suspect anything.

“Hey,” you say slowly, because they’re both posed the exact same. “Am I… missing something?”

“A shower, girl,” Lando says, and you flip him off before retreating into your room.

Belatedly you ask, “Did you find out who sent those flowers?”

“Some loser, probably,” he calls right back. Charles emerges to poke him accusatorily, but Lando just shrugs. Charles definitely does not have the upper hand here, anyway.

“Just get out,” Lissie says, completely done with Charles’ antics. “And stop. Listening. To Pierre.”

He rinses the odor of laundry off him once he’s at his room, but thinks, despite himself, that you called the flowers beautiful.

—

Are you—

—no. I’m not. You wiped a hand over your face and caught mascara along with it. I’m fine, it’s fine.

What he said, it wasn’t…

I said, you turned to face him, eyes rimmed and mouth trembling. You didn’t finish your sentence, just tore the microphone off your lapel and buried your face in your hands. There was always going to be a first time. Your first time insulted on a live feed, after the Abu Dhabi weekend, was not any less shocking. You felt small. You felt humiliated.

You didn’t want to show Charles any of it. You moved around the green room, picking up shit to throw into your bag. Thank God the season was fucking over, you kept thinking. I feel so, you said, still failing to finish anything you started to say. You’d been called an annoying bitch by a fan of one of the drivers—to your face, as you exited the paddock.

He moved nearer. Charles, you said, a half-sob, and then you were allowing him to crash, allowing him to hug you. Your arms were weak when they wrapped back around him, linking softly in the small of his back. You sobbed hard into his chest until his grey tee was dark with tears. I want out, I just want out.

You’ll lord your career over that prick when you’ve made a million dollars doing this, he said. You do it too well to want out. You’re too smart. You’re too good. You cried harder, your face hurt and every word felt wrestled unintentionally, like it took too much work to say much at all. I’m sorry, you said. You should go.

No, he said. He held you closer. Not until you feel better.

—

He cries after Abu Dhabi. Bad season, everyone’s said. You snap a few smiling pictures with Max, who wins, and Lily and Lissie and the lot of them, the people who made the year so great. You notice an absence in all the pictures and you find it in a room in the Ferrari motorhome.

You’ve found you both find solace in words. In reassurance. But you’ve also found that your connection enables you both to reassure without having to say anything at all. You sit beside him, lean your head on his shaky shoulder, and wait.

“I was waiting for you to come,” he admits brokenly. “I was just not feeling good.”

“I know,” you respond. “It was a bad race. Shit strat.”

He’s quiet. His breaths are ragged and wet and shaky. “Will you stay? Until I feel better?”

You don’t move. “I’ll stay for longer.”

—

In the kitchen Charles unscrews himself a beer. The sky outside is pink and the sun hides behind faraway mountains, gradually darkening the entire atmosphere, save for the few woolly clouds. He’s by the patio door so he can spot people in the wide yard: Pierre, exchanging a Frisbee with Lando. Max, Alex, and Lissie engaged in an intense match of Uno.

They’re all gathered here in Spain at Carlos’ behest to celebrate the dawn of winter, and the end of the season, Max’s third championship.

He’s yet to spot you—he’d been told earlier you’d be late—but it doesn’t matter. He’s been feeling uncharacteristically himself all day anyway. He wrote that on his notebook this morning, on the flight here, verbatim. Looked up the word to spell it right and everything. He remembers you saying it, that time in London where you and Lando took him around and annihilated Borough Market before lounging on the grassy knoll of a nearby park. I feel so uncharacteristically happy, you’d joked. The syllables were too stunted and too fast for Charles to nail it. But he feels it now. Uncharacteristic.

He tells everyone he’s fine, though, and does a good job of it. Three beers in and he’s beginning to trick himself into thinking he actually is doing fine. Nobody suspects he’s been feeling empty from such a bad finish to the season—the season that was already bad in itself. He hasn’t been feeling his usual drive, his usual appetite. He doesn’t know when it will return.

“Here you are.” Carlos has this goofy smile on his face when he bounds into the kitchen, depositing empty dishes at the sink. “Listen, I have to tell you something.”

Charles and Carlos have always shared an easy dynamic—they’ve both always wanted the same thing. Racing has always been at the forefront of their minds. It makes conversation passionate, easy, fun; it was what helped build their now-natural rapport in the first place. “Yeah?” He prods, leaning against the counter and tipping fizz into his mouth.

“I invited everyone here to announce… something important.” Carlos crosses his arms. “But I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Me?” Charles knits his eyebrows and smiles. “Wow.” He gulps, cocks his head. “What is it, then? Are you switching teams?”

Carlos’ goofy smile grows. “Isa and I are engaged. I’m retiring next year.”

“You—you’re—” Charles laughs and shuts his eyes all at once. “Oh, my God, mate! Congratulations!” The overload of information isn’t lost on him, but he channels it all into a hug. “Are you really retiring, though? I mean. Wow, this is amazing news—but—”

“I was sure as soon as I asked,” Carlos says squarely, smiling as if he’s conjured an image of Isa’s smiling face (which is likely the case). “As soon as she said yes. As soon as I bought the ring!” He laughs aloud, so overwhelmed with happiness of recalling everything. “I’m so glad you were the first person I told.”

“Besides Lando,” Charles says, because he knows it’s true.

“Besides Lando.” Carlos smiles. “I’m… dios, I’m happy. I always knew I’d have something to look forward to after racing.” They hug again, and then he clambers past Charles and into the patio, where he resumes the façade of being unengaged and still a driver. Left behind, Charles thinks over it himself. What does he have to look forward to after racing? All his life, racing is all that ever existed to him.

The announcement comes eventually—when it’s dark out, intermittent stars white and twinkly against the black above. Charles has once again turned into a blushy mess because you arrived a few hours prior, wearing a lovely dress and with your hair down in messy waves and you said hi to him earlier without him approaching first. They present a stupid, but very Carlos-and-Isa ring-shaped cake to announce it, and somebody queues up music and everyone’s cheering. Of course everyone’s cheering—it’d be impossible for this announcement to not come with bouts of yelling and cheering and goodbyes to Carlos, who accepts them with glee and—dare he say—excitement.

Charles remembers their first year as teammates, the jokes they’d made about needing to beat the other out. For both of them, he recalls, it’s only ever been the drive to race. He didn’t think Carlos would even entertain the idea of retiring yet. He wonders when he will. The thought of it alone is enough to send a well of anxiety run deep into him—which happens after he congratulates the couple, so he excuses himself to the empty outdoors area to get fresh air back into him.

He didn’t mean it, but he finds you already there. “Hi,” you say when he slides the door shut. “You okay?”

“Just… yeah, I’m fine.” You smell faintly like smoke. “It’s crazy, huh. Everyone’s… moving on.”

“So Carlos told everyone, then,” you say, pursing your lips and waiting for his response. He closes his eyes and lets a soft exhale escape him, warm air out and fresh air in, a welcome change from the heady atmosphere in the party. “I knew. I bought that God awful cake. I kept saying get a normal one but they both wanted it to be shaped like a ring.” You punctuate your sentence with a crisp laugh, a stunted exhale of air to break the tension.

You have a natural sway over words, graceful and beautiful and commanding, something he only wishes he could be. For so long he’d been told the feedback loop of one and the same thing: you’re good. You’re the best. You’re going to be the next big thing. And this season had just… aggravated every single insecurity he’s picked up in his years of racing. He wishes sometimes he’d been told something else: you suck. You’re normal. You’re irrelevant. Then at least he wouldn’t exist in some odd panopticon of feeling on top of the world and yet looking at it from the bottom of a pitch black abyss.

“Yeah,” he says instead, wringing his hands. He mimics the wrist movements he’s made to do during gym hours. “It’s wild how—I mean, not really wild, but. I just can’t… even picture my life after racing.”

“You’re young, that’s warranted,” you laugh. “You’re also… I mean, even if you drop out of racing tonight, it’s not like you’re going to become dirt poor or anything. You could become a bloody orthodontist and people will still love you.”

“Will they?”

He didn’t mean to say it aloud but out it comes, garbled and rushed and he’s a bit embarrassed for sounding like a child in front of somebody he finds so beautiful. The silence is suspended and dry, and for a minute all he hears and feels is the slow rise and fall of his chest. To somehow mend the vulnerability, he tries again. “It’s not—I just think I’ll be lonely if I decide to stop racing.”

The fact that Carlos can say with so much ease that he’s willing to drop his career to ensure his pending marriage lasts is almost terrifying, because Charles knows he wants that. He knows—he’s always known—that he wants that intimacy, that realness, but for it to come at the cost of something he’s known for so long is so scary it’s almost a dealbreaker.

“Lonely?” You echo, voice tinged with concern. “Charles—”

“Lonely.”

He says it with an edge to his voice, so final, so steadfast. Loneliness is what he’s always feared and he knows, with a deep drawling punch to his gut, that loneliness is what will come if he decides to stop racing. Even if he’s tired. Even if he’s so pent up with frustration and loss and anger. Racing is all he’s ever known, it’s all he is—when he’s not tied to it, who is he? “Like no one… like I’m just standing in front of what I’m supposed to be, and when people see me, that’s all they see—what’s behind me. Right through me.”

“Well, you’re off racing right now,” you respond, trodding carefully. “So, well. Do you feel that way?”

He knows what you mean: it’s winter break, so he’s not driving or doing some form of it every single day. And he knows in turn what to answer: no, not really, he doesn’t really feel detached from it because there’s a low anticipation in his belly that tells him he’ll be doing it all again soon. But he chooses to interpret it differently; differently, but not falsely.

“I th… I don’t feel lonely,” he says, “when I talk to you. You see me.”

Your stomach drops and your heart begins to pulse a mile a minute, knuckles tightening where they’ve gripped onto the wooden post of the patio. You can feel the air in your lungs pass through every divot of your body as it escapes and arrives in long, shaky breaths. He’s looking at you, his eyebrows knitted like he wants—needs an answer, if you’d be kind enough to please give him one.

“I…” You bite your lip, every thought in your head at odds with the other.

Time feels like rubber, like it’s been stretched and manipulated and Carlos is ducking out to announce that it’s time to blow out candles on the stupid ring-shaped cake and you’ve taken too long to respond and your body feels too heavy but your heart feels too light and your eyes are blinking, open and shut and open again, and you feel like the wind could honestly blow you away now because Charles has given you a neutral nod and left you alone again, to contemplate the weight of what he’s finally, finally admitted, tonight here under the sky of Spain.

You move a hand over your hair, watch him walk away. The words lodge themselves in your throat, but they’re there.

—

One minute after you realized you liked Charles, you swallowed the feelings until they were barely decipherable.

In happened in Dublin, at a pub on St. Paddy’s Day, when you’d emerged fresh out of a breakup with the most arseholic Irishman you’d ever had the displeasure of meeting. And funnily enough, it happened without Charles’ presence. You’d spent the day at Liam’s, hours of fighting over so many things—the growth of your career and the decimation of his, where your relationship had soured, why you never came to visit him, Charles, the sodding bloke you like so much—until finally, you took your things and left.

Wise, because you might’ve honestly gone insane if you stayed a minute longer, attuning your ears to the deafening feedback loop of his voice. Also decidedly unwise, because you had a piece of luggage and barely any battery, in a full city of people you didn’t know at all.

There was no chance Liam would let you return, and no chance you wanted to, for that matter—the fact still stood, though, that you needed to kill the night before your flight to France left at 6AM. You entered the first pub you heard, deposited your bag at the coat check for an extra couple of euros, and accepted the first pint thrust into your hand and first leprechaun hat plopped atop your head.

In between watching people compare how they poured Guinness pints, Sinead O’Connor songs, and exchanging headdresses with a random stranger, you found yourself impressingly drunk. The Irish did it too well.

A university student stumbled past your stool, tears in her eyes; she stopped to steal a shot of whiskey lying unattended on the bar. You looped a hand around her wrist and stared at her menacingly. Manners?!

Fuck manners, she said wetly, wrenching every word out with great effort. Nobody paid either of you any attention. I just caught my best friend and boyfriend kissing. Her accent was unmistakably Irish and was stronger with the tears.

Oh, you said, loosening your threatening grip. Sorry.

Don’t be. I’m sorry I could ever be so stupid, she said, aghast, before finally stalking outside the pub. Half an hour later, you wound up at a table of thirty-somethings, all belting along to a folky sounding song.

Drunkenly you slurred out, I thought it was a stereotype.

What was, love? One of them paused her singing, dipping down to listen to you properly. Your cheek was smushed against the varnished wood, moving with every syllable you eked out.

The songs. You sound like… you belong in the 19th century.

She laughed at that, surfacing and yelling something to the band onstage you couldn’t quite decipher. The song reached its peak, loud and getting the whole crowd singing along, before fading into a familiar opening. S’this better? She asked, her voice slightly raised above the guitar.

You looked up. I liked the other one too, to be fair. M’not a fucking anti-Irish.

Nobody said that, love. Come sing. She hauled you upward, exaggerating her arm swinging in the air so you’d follow suit, which you did. You hummed the opening, eyes fluttering open and closed. You imagined opening them again and finding Charles across the room, already looking, with the same charming, boyish smile on his face that came to you as comfort.

You thought back to the dinner in London, the feeling of his shirt against your shoulder, the way he’d gotten you so easy and laughing and babbly, something you never got with Liam. You squeezed your eyes shut and exhaled raggedly. Fuck.

Linger’ll do that to you, your companion mused. Around you, the entire pub sang along to the song that served as the backdrop to your all-encompassing romantic epiphany. Missing a lover, huh?

No, just… You opened your eyes, watched the band sing out the rest of the prechorus before they slid into the next verse. A new kind of air had crept over the pub, one that exemplified just how much this song could mean to anyone, no matter who. You shut them again and saw Charles. The green of his eyes, mossy on some days and bright on others. The moles on his face. The grooves of his hand, the way it wrapped around things like pens, mics, bottles, your fingers. His voice, how he curved around words. He always knew exactly what you meant even if it took you ages to get to the point, even if you felt like you didn’t know what you meant exactly.

You opened your eyes. Suddenly fights with Liam didn’t matter. Whatever little sympathy you had left evaporated as you listened to the lyrics and realized, with a damning force, that you were thinking of Charles. And this was not weak, this was not vague, this was a strong thing that took you off your feet like a gust of wind, hurtling you out of the pub. You thought of every time your eyes met his, both of you already laughing at something else present. Every time he saw you at the end of a busy work day and asked if you were doing alright.

Just this guy, I suppose. His name’s… yeah. We’ve been friends for ages. He’s really very talented. Very kind. Your voice was drowned out by the music but you didn’t intend for anything to be heard, anyway. And he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. He always knows what to say. He’s not in Dublin tonight, not even in Ireland, for God’s sake.

He’s your boyfriend, then?

You closed them slowly. No. T’wouldn’t be very smart to date him.

Is he an arse?

No either. It’s just too late.

I’m sorry, love.

Don’t be, you mused, eyes still shut as Linger came to a close. I’m sorry I could ever be so stupid.

—

Charles should be in Monaco. You should be in London. But at four-thirty PM, leaning against the counter of a tiny café in Dublin, you cross paths for the first time in weeks, and everything tilts on its axis.

He notices you first, because he hears you thank the barista quietly. It’s not your reporter voice, not the one you put one when you’re interviewing him or his teammate or his fellow athletes. But it’s your real one, and it’s the one he thinks he could hear through a snowstorm.

A tuxedo-clad man exits and suddenly you’re there. You’re wearing a white top, low neck and thin straps covered by a cardigan. You’re sliding coins into the pocket of your jeans and he watches your hand freeze, drags his eyes back up to you, finds you’re already looking.

You look beautiful, he thinks. You put on a lot of makeup for the cameras, and you looked gorgeous, but seeing you like this—caught, almost, in a moment you didn’t expect to see him—you look unbelievably beautiful. He aches with it.

“You look well,” he says first when he opens the café door for you. “What’s your business in Ireland?”

“Acquainting myself with my new coworker.” You wait for him to follow and squint when the sun hits your eye. “We’ve been here three weeks, fly back to London next Monday. You?”

“It does seem weird for me to be here,” he observes absently. “I needed a change of pace, I think. Gear up for the season.” He shakes his half-full cup of coffee. “Where are you staying?”

“Just up ahead.” A slow silence overcomes you both. “Come over. I have beer. I know you can’t be fucked to have coffee.” He laughs and nods, following you through the road and up into a flat—a BNB, if he’s guessing. There’s a tiny landing and then stairs to a wider living area, where you proceed to unwrap the croissant you’d gotten a few minutes earlier. You chuck it into the fridge and produce two bottles of beer in one go.

“Sit,” you gesture to the spot beside you, and he sits himself there. “We can talk. We should.”

You’ve shrugged your cardigan off, and he observes every detail of your exposed skin, the way your hair layers atop it. Right as he opens his mouth to respond, a blond girl enters, rings of mascara caking her eyes and a wine glass twiddled in-between thumbs. She’s talking her head off and only pauses when she spots Charles.

“Hhhh…iiii.”

“Salut.”

“You’re Charles?” She notices how close the two of you are seated together.

“Yes,” he says.

“Charles, this is Robyn—my coworker’s friend. And by extension my friend.” You pat her knee and point to Charles to get them properly introduced. “She leeches off the apartment.”

“You love me,” she retorts, mockingly—but sweetly. “Anyway, sorry to intrude. I was just on the phone with my situationship.” She rolls her eyes. “Does he think I give two shits about goodnight texts? It feels impossible to be romantically satisfied these days.”

Charles grunts. “I hear that,” he says, just to make Robyn feel less excluded. You get up then, to fuck around at the kitchen sink—he suspects you’re not actually doing chores—but you come back with wet hands and you sit yourself across Charles, on the loveseat, instead of next to him.

“The thing is, right,” she gulps wine, “there’s such a thing with dating now,” Robyn says, not missing a beat, her Geordie accent curving round the syllables with a distinctive twang. She stares at the opaque red liquid in her glass, like that will supplement her with more words. “Like a deal. A big deal. Everyone’s making this huge thing out of it, and it’s like, can’t we be in our twenties and fuck around occasionally?” She laughs, a high-pitched, tapered noise.

You shift from where you’re seated, buried into the material of the seat. It’s quiet and beginning to touch awkward, so you speak in a rough voice: “I dunno, I kind of… get it.”

“Oh do you, now,” she responds, voice saturated with wine. “No, it’s—I was joking. Of course you would, you’re absolutely fucking gorgeous, is all.”

Suddenly you feel all too seen and inclined to touch a fingertip to your cheek, feather light. You blink so you won’t feel tempted to meet Charles’ eyes, because you feel them on you. “It’s—thank you, I mean. It’s nothing to do with that. I just always feel it’s impossible to find someone who loves you. I feel like I’m not very lovable.”

“You? You’re bloody fucking likable!” Robyn’s laugh is so disbelieving you find yourself semi-convinced. “You’re a bit intimidating, yeah, but you’re lovable as fuck, babe.”

You double down anyway, voice thin. “Right. I don’t think I’m very good at being… affectionate.”

“Hah. Bull. You’re affectionate with… with Charles! I’ve heard you talk about him to Jane.”

She turns to Charles before you have the chance to defend yourself. To him she asks: “Is she affectionate with you?”

But it’s basically rhetorical. Everyone speculates, sees the way you two bend the line between friendship and romance, the care with which you treat Charles, the way you two understand each other in ways impossible for anyone else in your orbit. Fuck if it’s not overtly physical. Robyn’s known you three weeks and has never even met Charles until seven minutes ago and already she’s sensed the energy, the difference, even if she hasn’t seen you do so much as embrace.

“It’s—” You say and say too quickly. You wind up slowing your speech so you don’t sound too defiant and lean backwards, willing yourself to relax. “It’s… different with Charles.”

“Different?” She repeats, miming every dip and rise of your voice. “Why?”

“We’re close.” You refuse to meet his eyes. “Be—because we’re good friends. I feel… things are… just. They’re different. That’s all, really.�� Barely satisfied with the answer you eked out, you cross your arms over your torso like it’ll help shield you from the interrogation going on. Briefly you let your eyes fall on Charles; he’s reclined, eyes all over the place, blinking in quick flashes.

“But you admit it, at least?” She smiles. “That you’re affectionate, I mean.”

“Only with…” you taper off, unwanting to dig yourself a deeper hole. “Right. Sure, yeah.”

“Well then,” she says, eyebrows raising as she dows the rest of her glass. She sets it down on the low wooden table with a clink. “I’ll get going. Don’t let me keep you two from shagging or whatever.”

“We don’t f—shag,” you interrupt, voice sharp. “And you’re not keeping us at all. Me, at all.”

Us sounds so exclusive, you realize as it leaves your lips. Us. It tastes like sour cherries on your tongue, bleeds all over. Robyn gives you a look. In response, you insist on seeing her out, leaving Charles at the sofa, elbows on his knees, hands toying with the neck of the beer bottle. He can make out faint words but he doesn’t try translating or deciphering them, just listens to your muffled voice peek through every few words. You sound amused, also accused, also endeared—a bit irritated. You end it with a laugh.

You clamber back in after a few minutes and find him at the top of the stairs.

“Sorry,” you wave off, rolling your eyes to fend Robyn’s earlier interrogation efforts of. “She’s very strong-willed.” You climb the stairs, your striped linen shorts folding with every movement of your legs. Finally you make it to the top, on the second-to-the-last stair, staring up at him.

“You know,” he says, watching you ascend to the top finally, but you’re still staring upward. “You should know.”

“Should know what?”

“I missed you.”

You inhale and are grateful to find the air is all him. “I missed you, too.”

“In a different way.”

“Me, too,” you echo again, voice quiet. “I missed you. It feels like I’ve missed you all my life.”

He can hear your still, controlled breathing. “Thank you for seeing me. Even when, you know, it’s… hard. You know what I mean.”

“I do,” you say. “It’s never difficult, not…” With you.

He leans down and captures your mouth in his then, like it’s a thirst he’s always needed quenched. You allow it, kiss him back like you’ve needed this your entire life. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind—Dublin’s cold. He kisses like he’s smiling, like he’s happy, and you think maybe that’s not far off. He moves downward, to your jaw; lower, along the column of your throat, around your collarbones, cornering you against the wall, letting you lean against it.

Charles’ kisses are light and soft, but also heavy, like he’s trying to waste as little time as possible. You sigh, feeling light, feeling ecstatic. He puts two hands on either side of your face, presses your foreheads together, and shuts his eyes.

You feel the divots of his fingers on your hip, your waist, places he’s never touched before. “I’m sorry I left,” you breathe into him. “Back in Spain. In Madrid. I wanted to think about it. About what you said. About everything, about you.”

“I’m glad I found you here, then.”

You tiptoe to kiss him again, because now that you’ve had it once you’re terrified you won’t have it again. In-between kisses he picks you up, cages you fully against the wall, and you breathe shaky little exhales. It builds up quicker and harder; you feel his cock at your hip and shiver, eyelashes fluttering. “Upstairs,” you say breathlessly.

He likes knowing you want this, because he’ll give you whatever you want. He’d fuck you for hours. Have you shaking, eking out moans of his name. He’d whisper praise up and down your ear. He wants this just as much, if not more.

“I want you, so much,” you exhale when he lies you both down on your bed. “So much.”

He tugs your shorts off, then your panties. He doesn’t usually lack self-restraint, but he thinks he’s never felt this much temptation in his life. He’s so hard. He brings one hand to his thigh and squeezes his dick through his pants, but it doesn’t provide him with any kind of relief. You’re needy already, whimpering, mind dizzy. He slides a finger up your slit and watches you screw your eyes shut.

Slowly he sinks in, watches you accustom to the stretch. “Wanted this,” you breathe out.

He thrusts in further, feels your warm cunt stretch around him, feels your breaths get hotter and quicker against his lips. But he takes it nice and slow, so he can feel every little ridge inside of you as you take all of him. “You like it?”

You nod, too dumbed down to speak. “Good girl. Pretty, pretty girl.”

He’s wanted this for so long, fucking you deep and slow and desperate. He thrusts harder, watches you unravel and your hot breaths pick up in pace. He reaches down, smears wetness around your clit as your thighs begin to shake. Your pretty, flushed face is enough to send him into overdrive, your eyes rolling back as he goads you into orgasm.

You’re still cumming around him when he takes a shaky breath, pulls you tightly back against him, and lets the pleasure take over. He fucks you full, rides his orgasm out while you ride yours out—buries his dick all the way inside, so each spurt fills your contracting pussy up.

He pulls out and collapses beside you, pressing his lips to your shoulder before lying on his back. “I’ll clean you up in a minute.” It’s quiet for a second, just you two breathing.

Then: “I did, I did think about it,” you say, voice reedy. “I thought about you.”

“Yeah?” He watches you blink at the ceiling, lets you clasp your hands onto his.

“About me, too.” You open your eyes and stare into the green.

“D’you want this?”

“Believe me,” you say, threading your fingers into his tightly. Your hair’s fussed from the sex. “I do. But—”

His heart drops.

“I don’t want to… I want you to not…” You sigh. “You know, I like seeing you. I like being that. I like knowing I make you feel good. And I want you to know you… you make me feel amazing. Like you and I… we understand each other.” You pause. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who understands every inch of me.”

“Ditto,” he says, and you smile.

“I look up to you, you know? I don’t want you to anchor yourself onto me. I want you to realize that on your own. You’re smart. You’re a great driver with a shitty fucking team I hated reporting on last season.” He laughs shakily. “You know I look up to you. You know… you know I love you.”

“I do. I love you.”

“I always have. It wasn’t… it didn’t always make itself clear, but I always have. And I know I always will.” You smile. “We’ll be in different cities, in separate timezones, but if we survived the years of not telling each other how bloody fucking much we liked each other, this is nothing. When we’ve sorted ourselves out, we’ll know the right time to finally call this what it is.”

He’s never thought of himself as a writer, but his notebooks might beg to differ. Many times you’ve told him yourself that he has an affinity for describing things, especially when he lets go of language as a limitation. He wonders what you’d say if you knew the amount of times he’s tried to write about you. Careful letters or typefaces, in an effort to form a coherent picture of you, the way he sees you, the way he loves you. But he’s so scared he tears the pages off before they get too intimate, too personal, crossing the border from having a crush on you to being in love with you.

For once he’s not. He nods. It’s bittersweet, but it’s a segue to a better ending. He moves a hand over your hair and holds you close.

“You could never be unlovable,” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead because finally, he can. “I mean it.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

2K notes · View notes

clovdgyu · 3 months ago

Text

#rafayel x m!reader #smut #rafayel, my baby i love you

#breeding kink, creampie, blood play, serial killer rafayel, bondage, blindfolds, overstimulation, dubcon, mentions of blood, serial killer rafayel (cause why not?), tonguefucking, spitroasting, choking, belly bulge, lying rafayel, marking, mentions of rape, mentions of fag and faggot use of derogatory words #babysitting a house? should be easy, but it all turned into the worst case scenario when you found yourself cornered by the masked serial killer

house-sitting will be easy, they said. it will be fun, they said. but this wasn't even fun to begin with. sure, it seems like an easy job to do but it was boring as hell so you decided to invite some friends...except they were all busy. finding yourself in a 'lonely' predicament, you grabbed the remote and decided to maybe watch some tv, instead.

"this just in, a masked serial killer is on the loose, knocking doors on random people's houses before killing them. the masked killer escaped from prison and the cops are tracking the guy currently, wanting to 'catch the murderer as soon as possible," the broadcaster said as she looked sternly at the camera, indirectly telling the viewers to be careful.

you let out a stifled laugh and pointed at the tv as if judging it. "who would be so fucking stupid to open their doors to a random stranger?" you stated and switched channels, deciding to watch some documentary to keep yourself entertained. getting hungry, you decided that you needed some pizza to fill your stomach.

the documentary you just watched was boring you out to hell, it was just talking about nature and how it was wonderful. you never even dared to go out and explore so why--

*knock knock*

your eyes turned to look at the door then back at your growling, smiling to yourself. "well, that was fast," you thought to yourself as you grabbed your wallet and headed towards the door with a small skip. you hummed a small tune as you looked through your wallet for the exact amount (and a tip for being so fast) so the pizza delivery guy didn't have to bother giving you change.

another knock was heard before you shouted a 'coming'. you stopped right at the door and held onto the doorknob, hearing your own tummy rumble. without hesitation, you opened the door while you were still rummaging through your wallet and sighed, seeping air through your gritted teeth, realizing you can't give the man a tip. "ah, jeez. i'm sorry, man but it seems i'm a little short on money..."

your voice trailed off as you looked up from your wallet and saw an unfamiliar man standing in front of you. you tilted your head and scratched your neck. the man was wearing an orange jumpsuit...and what seemed like a mask? "what the hell? who are...?"

this just in, a masked serial killer is on the loose, knocking doors on random people's houses before killing them. as you looked at the man in front of you, all the blood in your body was drained out of you, hands trembling as you 'subtly' grabbed the door knob and tried to close the door...but you were already doomed. "fuck! help me! oh my god, please!" you screamed.

your voice echoed throughout the whole house as you ran towards your kitchen to grab a knife for self defense. you looked back, pointing the knife in front of you as you took in large breaths. "shit, i should've thought of that news before opening the door."

you took cautious steps as you gulped, not wanting to alert the serial killer who was inside your house. you made a run to your bedroom and locked yourself there, deciding to call 911. but when you were just about, a knife was pointed towards your neck. is this really how i am going to die? "p-please don't kill me. i'll do anything, please! i won't even tell anyone. i-i will help you escape."

"alright. you're in for a ride, bitch."

----------

"mmph!" a muffle grunt originated from your lips as the masked man drove his dick deeper into your throat, his purple tousled hair hiding his perfectly irresistible eyes as he looked down at your state, tear-filled eyes and red cheeks, saliva dripping down from your lips as you deepthroated the man.

he groaned, akin to a pleasurable one as he gripped onto your (h/c) locks, biting his lip as he thrusted into your mouth. at first, it was slow thrusts but gradually increased in speed. "you're not gonna making me fucking cum with a sloppy blowjob, bitch."

you looked up at the male and glared at him, your mouth fully stuffed with his cock. a deep chuckle was heard from the male before he thrusted his entire length inside your mouth, making your eyes twitch as you held onto his thighs.

the other male threw his head back as he buried your nose into his trimmed pubes then looked down at you, he could see how much you were struggling but he could care less. this was for his own benefit anyway, not yours. "goddamn, you took it like a champ, huh?"

he removed his cock from your mouth and stares as you coughed out, holding onto your chest as you glared at the other male. "i told you to take it easy, cunt! i'm no expert in sucking dicks."

the male tilted his head and scoffed. "really? you strike me as one though. little sissy boy who loves to get his ass filled with semen, loves to swallow a man's cum. you probably climax as they finish inside your ass, don't you?" he teased as slapped your cheek with his saliva-coated dick.

"i'm not fucking gay! get that inside your fucking brain," you stated, his brows, now, furrowed before he lifts you up and looks dead straight into your eyes, scaring you. "wh-what?"

he smirked. "you're forgetting who is actually capable of killing who here, aren't you? you're getting so damn feisty over a joke," he stated before pulling out a razor blade from his vest then traced a curved line on your cheek,making you squirm.

seeing the crimson red liquid drip out of your cheek, he let out a manical chuckle before lapping on your blood. "you're so fucking tasty, so delicious for me. you're making me so fucking hard again, bitch. strip yourself, get on the bed, and on your knees."

although hesitant, you did as he instructed and gulped. "wh-what are you planning to do? are you really gonna kill me?" you asked him, but you received no response from the other male except the sound of his footsteps drawing nearer.

you waited for what was gonna happen next, only to be surprised when you felt something wet lick on your hole. "ah! what the hell are you doing! get away from there!" you shouted, looking back at him before you suddenly felt his tongue delve deep inside you. "oh my god! stop—ah—it! you motherfucker! ugh, mmh."

despite your protests, it was clear as day that you were getting turned on just by judging the raging erection you donned as the man ate you out like a five-star course meal. "mm, fuck. so tasty," he mumbled to himself before plunging his tongue deeper into your hole.

"ng—ah~! w-wait! stop, oh my—fuck!" you cursed out, burying your head down on the pillow to muffle the sinful sounds that exited your mouth, indirectly shoving your ass onto the purple-haired male's face who just chuckled deeply while you gripped onto the sheets beneath you tightly, knuckles turning white.

you didn't know exactly why, but his tongue in your ass was making you feel so good. it was indescribable, the feeling of his wet, slimy tongue sliding in you and fucking your ass made you feel so incredible. "such a delectable ass," he muttered as took a hold of your cheeks and buried his face further into your ass to get his tongue more access.

why did it feel like his tongue was so long? it was fucking you so deep that you could feel your climax approaching. no, wait, you weren't gonna get off solely on someone eating you out, were you? you weren't even gay to begin with...but how was it that you were feeling ecstatic just by him fucking his tongue into your ass.

eyes rolled back and toes curled, you tried to hold back your moans by stifling your mouth using the pillow underneath you. the male behind you didn't mind though, he was so busy eating out your ass that he could care less about you hiding your moans.

and as if it wasn't enough, he tapped a finger on your hole making you flinch as you looked behind you with a confused state. "what the hell are you gonna do, bastard?" you asked him as he stopped eating you out and stared into your eyes then smirked before he inserted it inside you while his tongue was inside you.

a grunt left your lips as you reached back and tried to push his head away from you. "oh god. stop, you fucking bastard! get--ah--away from me, cunt! oh god, oh fuck! i-it feels so fucking weird," you cursed out as you gripped onto his purple locks and buried your face down on your pillow to stifle your moans. "y-you have to stop, b-bastard!" you whined out, akin to a moan.

the other male just enjoyed how you tried to hide your pleasured sounds as he tonguefucked and fingered your ass all at the same time. he licked a stripe onto your ass before delving his tongue back inside your ass, making you moan as you went putty in his hold. fuck, this is the best ass i've ever eaten.

you could feel that the other male was looking for a certain spot inside you as he fingered your ass. "oh my god! g-get your finger out of my ass, you prick! listen to me you fucking--AH!" you let out a pitched moan as the other male pressed onto a certain spot inside your ass that made you feel good. "what the fuck was that? that felt so weir--no, don't! shit, fuck, stop pressing onto it you goddamn killer! stop, fuckfuckfuck, i'm cumming!"

with a particular loud moan you threw your head back and spurts of cum emitted from your cock as you quivered on your bed, eyes rolled to the back of your head as you gripped onto your sheets. "hngh, ah! fuuuck~" you moaned out, still quivering as you came onto your sheets.

the other male smirked before he removed his tongue and finger out of you, making you clench on nothing as you huffed out. thinking he was already done, you tried to close your eyes but the other male had other plans as he pulled your hair and lifted your face to face him. "don't faint on me, slut. i still haven't cum yet."

your tear-filled eyes just looked at him, all strength inside you lost before you looked away at him. you tried to push him away but now that you got a closer look of his face, he just looked so ethereal. how is a handsome male like him a well-known serial killer when he could've used it for a good use?

but that didn't tether your reason as you went back to pushing him away. "aw, do you like this kind of kinky shit? d'ya like it when there's a little bit of force put into action? want me to rape your fucking ass until it takes the shape of my cock? huh, bitch?"

"n-no, get away from me, f-fag!" you shouted, the other male smiling maniacally before he neared his lips onto your ears.

he chuckled deeply, "you know what's coming next, right? i'm gonna fuck your little, tight ass and make it mine for the taking, gonna mark my territory. c'mon, say 'rafayel, i want you to pound my ass and to use your cock to make a mess out of me'. say it, say it!" he demanded, eyes growing bigger to intimidate you.

he's named rafayel, huh? you thought and you shook your head as you tried to push him away, but you stopped when a knife was suddenly pointed towards your neck. "i thought you weren't gonna k-kill me? wh-where's the deal, bitch? didn't you have fun already?"

rafayel threw his head back to laugh quite boisterously before pressing the knife deeper into your neck. "fun? i barely had my own 'fun' since you're being a pressy bitch! i've noticed how you've been annoying me quite a lot so maybe killing you--"

"wait, wait! o-okay, i'll say it," you told him, tears dripping from your eyes once again as you closed your eyes hard in contemplation, sniffing before opening your eyes again and looked into his eyes. "i want you to pound my ass and to use your cock to make a mess out of me."

"ah tut tut, you forgot my name, slut. you can't be forgetting that, that's the most important part. i want you to say that again, but this time while presenting yourself to me, spread your ass cheeks and show me that slutty hole," he told you. with your life on the line you nodded.

you watched as rafayel moved away from you to watch you, but he must've guessed that you escaping slipped from his mind since the moment he removed his hold on you, you made a run towards the door. unfortunately for you, the purple-haired male was fast enough to catch you, trapping you in his arms with your left cheek pressed against the hard wood. "where d'ya think you're going, bitch?"

"please, please. just let me go. i-i don't want this, i'll do anything but this," you pleaded, tears dripping from your eyes as you clasped your hands together. the nervousness and fear in your veins was enough to make you a sobbing mess, hiccuping word after word.

rafayel raised a brow before he chuckled deeply then smirked, scoffing. "i think you're prepped enough, doll. now hold still," he said, heeding no attention to your pleas. confused, you gulped and continued to sob quietly. the male behind you took a hold of your arms and held them tightly behind your back.

you were about to protest and ask what he was doing, but was shocked when the man suddenly tapped his erect cock on your hole. "you fucking bastard! get that thing away from my ass, that won't ever fit inside me! let me go, please," you pleaded yet again as more tears left your eyes.

"i was able to make you cum, now this should be mutual if you want to call this a good deal. and the only way to make this a good deal is for you to make me cum, and i can only cum if you let me fuck this tight ass," he stated, using his free hand to slap your ass before squeezing it.

knowing there was no way out, you calmed yourself down and looked at him in your peripheral view. "at least wear a condom, bastard," you stated through gritted teeth but only received an 'i did' before he aligned the tip of his cock onto your entrance.

he snickered, "i won't make any promises, but what i do know is that i'll probably be fucking this tight ass until the sun rises," he stated before he eased himself into you, his nose scrunching at how incredibly tight you were. "shit, doll. you're gonna snap my dick off with how tight you are. relax, it'll feel good that way."

an open-mouthed gasp exited from your mouth as you scratched your arm using your nails. "agh! i-it hurts! get it out of me, prick!" you shouted at him but only received a lick to your neck. unknowingly, you let out a breathy moan as you tried to relax your body. "r-rafayel, pull it out."

and as if a switch has been turned on inside the mentioned male's body, he thrusted his whole length inside you, managing to hit your prostate dead-on. you both moaned in unison at how incredibly good the two of you felt. although it was a painful stretch, you couldn't deny the fact that his dick made you feel good. "calling out my name like that, slut. my weakness," he said.

the hand that was holding your arms together was gone before his muscular arms was inserted under your pits, he then hooked his arms over your shoulders and pushed himself even deeper inside you, making you see stars. the loud moan that exited your lips wasn't left unnoticed by the other male. "mhm, what's this? is my cock making you feel so good, bitch?"

you looked at him through your lidded eyes, breathing deeply as your body felt like jelly because of his cock. "f-fuck you. i'm n-not feeling good 'cause of your dick, cunt!" you shouted at him, but seeing you resist your own pleasure and how you kept up that facade turned him on even more. now all he wants was to see you fucked dumb until you can't think of anything but his huge burly cock.

"haha, fuck! you're gonna be the death of me, doll," he whispered to your ear before he began to slowly fuck your hole. "i may be cruel, but at least i know how to start a good fuck. slow and steady to get them used to it, the reason those prison bitches moan my name every night."

his words fell on deaf ears as you gulped, trying to keep your mind in the right state of mind. you couldn't lie but admit that this gentle motion was making you feel good, that it got your stomach in a twist. you could feel your climax coming back again. "gh..! mmh, stop that. you're always hitting me there."

rafayel raised brow before he stopped then continued, rubbing his cock on a certain part inside of your ass. the way his heavy cock pressed onto your prostate made you moan as you writhed against his arms, your hands now on his biceps.. "quit denying it, cunt. i know i'm making you feel so good."

"no way! agh, stop! s-stop, oh fu--shit! stop, i'm gonna fucking cum, noo!" you shouted as you threw your head back. when you did, rafayel turned your head to look at him then planted his lips onto yours. that action alone made you cum yet again as you scratched the purple-haired male's biceps with a moan, muffled by his lips against yours.

the other male removed his lips from your as he used his right hand to force you to look at him. "see? i've already made you cum twice, and untouched at that. why are you still denying the fact that i really am making you feel so good?" he stated, looking straight into your eyes. "you're literally like a bitch in heat."

hearing no words from you, he continued to fuck your ass languidly with same speed. you whined, "ra...st.."

the male smirked, before nearing his ears towards your lips to hear you even more clearly. "what is it, whore? i can't hear you because of how loud i'm fucking your ass."

"rafayel, faster. please, i can't hold this anymore," you pleaded to him, now fully succumbing to the pleasure as you stared right at him through your half-lidded eyes. the taller male huffed before he pulled his cock out until it was only the tip before slamming it back inside your hole, making you scream in pleasure.

rafayel took that as an opportunity to initiate a kiss, plunging his long tongue inside your mouth, exploring your wet cavern. you closed your eyes, moans swallowed by the other male's who continued to thrust his hips at a normal pace. he pulled your face closer towards him as he fucks you hard.

he loved the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs, bouncing hard that it jiggles. the other male removed his lips from yours before he pulled his cock out of you then carried you towards your bed, making you gasp. with a grunt, you landed on the soft mattress before rafayel got on top of you, caging you in between his arms, looking down at you.

"you're so fucking delicious, i probably won't be able to stop," he stated as he grabbed his cock and lined it with your hole. he grabbed your legs by the pit and placed it on his shoulders, practically bending you in two as he leaned towards you. "we won't stop until i've had my own fill."

you nodded at him, about to say something when he suddenly plunged his whole cock inside you again. you accidentally bit your tongue as you gripped your sheets, shaking out of pleasure as you came on both your stomachs. "c-cumming~! oh my god. i'm cumming again."

a crazed chuckle exited rafayel's lips before he attacked your neck with hickeys. he began to thrust so deep inside you that even when you just came, overstimulating you. "damn, no one can really beat sluts who cum easily. such a huge turn-on," he muttered before he increased his pace and fucked you deeply.

your hands made its way towards the other male's broad back as you scratched them out of pleasure, making the male groan as he buried his face to your neck, pressing kisses and placing hickeys. "w-wait, not too fast. i just came," you stated, albeit weakly as you moved your hands towards his hair, tilting your neck to give him more access.

he paid no mind to whatever you just said and focused only on his own pleasure. "goddamit, such a tight little fucking ass. you're gonna make me bust a huge load, bitch. d'ya want that? want me to bust a load inside of you? want me to fill you up with my seeds?" he stated as he removed his face from your neck to look at you.

"wh-what? but you said you wore a condom, you bastard!" you shouted and began to push him off of you, trying to push him away as you gritted your teeth in anger. "pull out, motherfucker! don't you fucking dare cum inside me!"

he only snickered as he continued to fuck your ass, now even faster as he chased his own high. you writhed in pleasure as the strength that was once in you vanished, now gripping onto the sheets as you threw your head back in pleasure. "what? you scared i'll get you pregnant, whore? i mean, i could try. i'm gonna cum inside your ass until you get pregnant with my babies."

you whined beneath him, wanting to complain but the pleasure was overwhelming you and was clouding your sense of reason. your mind was now solely focused on his cock that was driving deeper inside you, hitting your prostate with every thrust.

rafayel then pulled back, now kneeling as he brushed his hair back, giving you a perfect view of his well-built physique. "look at that? i can see my cock inside you," he pointed out as he pressed on the obvious bulge on your stomach which made you whine as you gripped the sheets tighter. "guess making you pregnant wouldn't be so much of a problem now, huh? when i'm already buried so deep inside you."

all he received was a mewl from you before he continued to thrust his hips into you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own high, nose scrunched up in concentration as he held your waist tightly, too tight that it might bruise the day after.

"w-wait..too fast...! slow down, ah~" you managed to utter out in between your breathy moans but he paid you no mind as he focused on getting himself off. "this is—ah—weird, this feels weird! oh—ah, fuck! rafayel, i'm about to cum! w-wait, ngh!" you stated, reaching towards the other male's v-line to try and get him to slow down but all he did was use both his hands to hold onto your wrists, oulling you closer to him with each thrust.

rafayel grunted as he threw his head back, fucking you even deeper and faster, so inhuman that you couldn't help but moan partocularly loud. "that's right, bitch. let the whole neighbohood know who's making you feel so good," he said before holding both your wrists in one hand while he used the other one to press on your neck, choking you.

gargled gasps and moans left your lips as you looked at the other male who was biting his lip, a smirk etched on his face as he pressed harder. you threw your head back, tongue rolled out of your lips as you let yourself succumb to the pleasure. "you're such—ah—a goddamn masochist, arencha? getting off on me choking you, hm?"

you shook your head but it was already obvious that your kind was muddled with the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving from how deep he plowed your ass with his thick cock. "sho..shoo goodd," you muttered out. rafayel removed his hands from your neck before he held onto your waist once again, using you like a fleshlight as he fucked himself deeper.

he grunted, "good fucking shit! i'm about to cum too, slut. i'm gonna fucking cum inside you. want me to? beg for it, beg for it, you whore!" rafayel shouted as his thrust grew even faster, your body practically bouncing as he did.

"c-cum! i want your cum inside me, rafayel! please make me pregnant with your babies!" you shouted out as you held onto his forceps. no more words were exchanged as the other male chased his own, breathy moans leaving his lips as he did. "fuck, i'm cumming!"

with a loud moan, your toes curled in pleasure, eyes rolled back as you came. but it was so unusual, as if you peed yourself. wait, you squirted? how was that possible? rafayel didn't know the explanation but the sight alone and how you clenched on his cock tightly was enough to release his load inside your hole. "cumming, i'm cumming inside your, bitch. fuckfuckfuck!"

spurts of cum was released inside you and you could feel how warm it was. you loved the feeling of his warm cum inside you, how his load was too much that some spilled out of your ass. you were just about to close your eyes when rafayel tapped your cheeks lightly. "huh?"

"don't think that it's over after just one round, slut. we're far from being done."

the next day, rafayel woke up to an empty bed. "ah hir, that was the best fuck i've eve had in a while," he muttered to himself as he got up from the bed to get his things. it was already 4 in the morning when he decided to rest. maybe it was the best decision to not have killed you, but where were you?

finally back in his jumpsuit, he exited the door and was surprised when a gun was pointed to him. "get down, hands up! we finally have you now, prisoner 0306," the cop in front of him shouted, several other cops filling in the whole area.

rafayel's blue-pink eyes roamed to look for you, finally spotting you in a corner with your head down, a phone in hand. the male scoffed as he complied to the cops, swearing to himself that he will be back. one cop grabbed a handcuff and used it to bind his hands together, rafayel chuckling deeply as he looked at you with those same maniacal eyes. "don't think this is over yet, slut. when i get back, you're fucking dead meat."

a female cop, who was beside you, noticed how you trembled in fear. she smiled at you assuringly and patted your back. "don't worry, honey. he won't ever escape anymore. you'll be fine. now we'll be on our way."

you nodded, sighing once you heard your front door click, indicating that they were finally gone. it was a whole night of torture (pleasure) but he was finally gone and you don't have to suffer anymore.

you slowly moved towards the couch and opened the tv to watch something to ease your nerves, but what showed you made you even more tense. "breaking news, the police car that had the infamous fugitive, prisoner 0305, seemed to have been hijacked. the cops inside have been injured and—"

the tv's voice was cut off when you heard the door burst open, making you tear up as you looked back slowly. and as you expected, there he was, blood painted his whole face as he looked at you with crazed eyes. he entered your abode and locked it, making you gulp as you slowly retreated. "p-please don't hurt me."

"going through all that trouble? i suppose i can commend you for that but it really hurt me, sweetie," he stated, before lunging towards you, grabbing the chloroform-filled hanky inside his pocket and placed it on your nose. you struggled against him but the chemical made you feel weak and numb as you closed your eyes, fainting. "now, you'll be with me forever, bitch."

he carried you bridal style before using the taxi he got (he killed the driver first, obviously) and placed you on the passenger seat. he entered the driver's seat and locked the doors before driving off to an isolated part in town.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel x male reader #love and deepspace rafayel x male reader #male reader #x male reader #smut

366 notes · View notes

vivwritesfics · 1 month ago

Text

Handheld Camera

Tyler's best friend and camera person screwing a member of Storm Par? More likely than you think

Warnings: smut, p in v, hate fucking I guess, sex tape, unprotected sex, possible pregnancy

2.7K

"What're you doing?"

The handheld camera was pointed at Tyler as he walked towards her. When he stepped forward, she stepped back, keeping all of him in frame.

It had been a good ride, and she had videoed all of it. Both rounds were on her camera, ready for to be edited and gifted to Tyler. He reached for it, trying to snatch it out of her hands, but she stepped back.

"Come on, Ty!" She said as she stopped filming and put the camera down. "These are gonna be gold when you're a famous bull rider."

That had him grinning as he wrapped his arms around her and led her back to his truck. He wasn't going to tell her that he was rethinking a career as a bull rider, that he was thinking of going to school.

She spent the night clipping up the videos, perfecting the audio and piecing them together. She could have posted it online, drawn more people to Tyler's name.

But she held back. That was a conversation for later.

A conversation that would never come. Before she knew it, Tyler was off to study meteorology and she was, well, left behind.

Left in Oklahoma, working in her parents cafe. She watched the sky as she wiped down tables, thinking of him. Did he miss her as much as she was missing him?

Of course, he came home in the holidays. But he wasn't riding, anymore. He just watched storms, chased them.

At first, she was reluctant to go with him. Why would she throw herself into danger like that? But it had never been easy, saying no to Tyler Owens. Not when he gave her that look that guaranteed fun.

On the first chase, she'd been too scared to do anything other than hold onto her seat. On the second chase, she'd had her camera out the entire time, filming the storm and Tyler.

He was so natural in front of the camera, his personality shining. An idea sparked in her head, one that wouldn't come to fruition just yet.

That came after college, when Tyler was home for good. He was a little lost in what to do next, wanted to do something meaningful with his life. A terrible time to bring up storm chasing on YouTube.

But then they drove through a town, so full of devastation. They stopped, helped where they could, but there wasn't much. Finding people and lost pets.

That was when the idea came to life.

"We start a storm chasing YouTube Channel. We live stream, take the footage for the streams, and clip them up into videos. Ty, we could make so much money." He opened his mouth to protest, but she beat him to it. "And that money could go towards helping people. People who have been ruined by tornadoes."

Tyler went to shake his head, but then he thought about it. "You'd handle the filming and the editing, and I get to just chase storms?"

A grin split across her face. "Exactly, Ty."

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, looking like some fucked up rabbit. "I'm gonna regret this," he mumbled and shook his head. "I have a condition."

"Lay it on me."

He stared at her, green eyes sparkling as he let his grin match her own. "I get to put my face on a tee-shirt."

***

Storm Par.

They weren't exactly trouble, more a nuisance. Always getting in the way of a good chase. It made for entertaining videos, if they were allowed to upload them.

They couldn't help what they captured on livestream. But that email she had received from a member of the Storm Par legal team had her editing the white trucks out of any clips she had before she uploaded them onto YouTube.

She remembered the first time she laid eyes on him.

Her camera was in front of her face, capturing footage of the storm to later use in the video. It was beautiful, something she didn't understand as well as Tyler.

But then she zoomed out, captured the storm with the wheat field beneath it. And the man in the hat and sunglasses. The tall man, who she could tell was scowling. He didn't even need to remove his glasses.

Ending the recording, she lowered the camera and looked at him. "Can I help you?" She asked, voice a little snippier than she meant for it to be.

He pulled his glasses off of his nose and let his expression soften as he looked at her. What was he thinking? What thoughts were turning over in his mind.

"You like storms?" He asked. For just a second, it sounded like a pickup line.

She looked down at her camera? "Like storms?" A grin crossed her face. "Oh, no. I record them because I hate them."

The sarcasm wasn't missed. It wasn't unappreciated, either. He stepped closer and tucked his glasses into the breast pocket of his white shirt. "I actually chase storms," he said. "As my job."

"Really?" Her eyebrows shot up. This was before Storm Par and Tyler's little gang of chasers were really aware of each other. They knew one another was out there, getting in each others way, but not more than that. "Must be exciting."

"It is," he answered. "You get right up close to the danger."

"Is that all you do? Just chase them?"

He shook his head. "My team and I study them. We collect data on them to... help people." The way he said it, the way he paused. He knew he was spouting shit.

Before she could say anything more to the man from Storm Par (their hottest member, if you held a gun to her head and asked her), Tyler called her name. "We gotta go!" He shouted.

The man's eyes widened. "See ya, Storm Par," she said and saluted to him with just two fingers. She left him standing there as she ran over to Tyler's truck and climbed into the passenger seat.

They encountered each other on the chase, him staring at her through the window. Every time she pointed her camera at him, he looked back at the road.

Storm Par turned left at the fork in the road, and they turned right. Storm Par's tornado died, but theirs stayed strong. She buckled herself in and held the camera up as they drove into the tornado.

Storm Par parked up at the same motel they did. She locked eyes with him as she climbed out of the truck.

It was almost like he couldn't stop himself as he strode towards her. "You work with a bunch of cowboys," he said and chewed the gum in his mouth.

She released a flirtatious giggle. "Thank you," she said and blinked at him. His sunglasses no longer sat on his face and she could finally see his pretty eyes. They really were pretty. "You work with a bunch of stuck up assholes." She looked him up and down. "And you're the biggest stuck up asshole of them all."

Suddenly she was against the wall and his lips were against hers. The way she ran her fingers through his hair was almost feverish, knocking his hat from his head as he pressed his hips against hers.

"I can't fucking stand you," he growled out between kisses.

"I hate you too."

But he pulled her away from the wall and up to his room. It was nothing fancy, just a bed, a television, and a dingy bathroom. It was an exact copy of her own room, but that wasn't what she cared about at he threw her onto the bed.

That night was the first time they hooked up. He pulled down her jeans and discarded them on the floor, along with her shirt. She didn't even know his name as she rolled onto her stomach.

He grabbed her hips and held her up, thumb stroking over her skin as he entered her. That was sweet. The kisses he dropped onto her back were sweet.

But that was where the sweetness stopped. He snapped his hips against hers, setting a brutal pace. The bed beneath them squeaked, but it was drowned out by her whines and moans, her cries for more.

He grunted, tipping his head back. Sweat dripped down his face and his grip on her was bruising. She was loving every second of it.

Her legs spasmed, giving out ad she came. She clenched around him, the only thing holding her up being his strong grip. But he kept coming, kept burning the tip of his cock between her spongy walls.

But he was getting sloppy, his thrusts deeper, holding himself inside of her for longer. His breaths came out in short pants, spilling himself inside of her.

Breathless, he let go of her, let her collapse onto the bed. He fell down beside her, neither of them touching.

Her mouth was dry, throat somewhat sore as she looked at him. This wasn't how things were supposed to be post sex. She shivered as she shuffled closer, not close enough to touch.

"What's your name?" She asked, the question barely audible.

"Scott," he answered and shuffled back against the headboard.

The way he was staring down at her, she couldn't tell what he wanted. If he wanted her to get up and leave, or stay for a moment longer and tell him her name.

She was thinking too hard and too much, Scott decided as he scooted down the bed. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against his chest. "This can't happen again," he said as she let her hand settle against his beating heart.

"No," she agreed, voice croaking. "It can't."

Spoiler alert, it happened again.

They weren't always after the same tornado, weren't always on the same chase. But every time that red truck pulled in where they were, Scott couldn't help the way his heartbeat quickened.

If they were chasing the same storm, they ended up in each others bed.

At first, it was just sex. Sex with cuddling after (because Scott knew she needed it). But it turned into something more when he sat there reading while she edited their videos.

"I've had an idea," she said one evening as she let Scott into her hotel room. Her camera was in her hand, held down by her side.

Scott's stomach dropped. "We're not making a sex tape," he immediately said as he sat on the bed and toed off his shoes.

Sinking into his lap, she wrapped her arms around him. "C'mon, Scott. I just want to get a quick video of how hot you look while I'm riding you. Just for the Scott files."

The Scott files. A collection of every time she had edited him out of their videos. The collection of angry faces had turned into him unable to hide his smile.

Grinning, she pushed him down onto the bed. Scott held her hips as he looked up at her, the camera already in front of her face. The red light flashed as she began moving her hips.

Scott squeezed her hips but gave nothing away on his face. So, she put the camera down and unbuttoned his shirt.

He laid there, let her work. She unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall open. Grabbing the camera, she held it in front of her face once again, filming herself dragging her nails down his chest.

Throwing his head back, Scott let out a throaty moan. She caught it all on camera.

She opened his trousers and freed him. Scott sucked in a breath as she wrapped her fingers around him. The camera stayed focused on his face as she pumped her hand once, twice and then released him.

His eyes flew open and he glared down at her. But it was short lived. She put down the camera and began stripping off. The moment she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, Scott reached for the camera and held it up, capturing her as she stripped.

She was gorgeous. Scott already knew that, but this he wanted to keep forever.

Dropping her underwear, she reached for the camera once again. "Give it," she said and snatched it away from him.

Sitting on his lap, she concentrated the camera back on his face and ground against him. "Fuck," he breathed and reached for her hips. "Please, cowgirl."

Cowgirl. When had he started calling her that? It had started as an insult, she knew that much. But she loved it. Lifting her hips, Scott positioned himself beneath her and she sank herself down onto him.

Scott sucked in a breath. The camera was trained on him as she began to move. He gripped her hips, helping her to keep a steady rhythm.

She tried to keep the camera trained on Scott as she rode him. But it kept dropping, and it took her a moment to get it focused back on his face. But Scott took the camera from her hands. He put it down on the bed, pulled her to lay against him, and took charge.

The camera kept recording on the bed. It didn't capture much, and the audio wasn't as clear as she wanted it to be. When Scott came, throwing his head back, the camera just about caught it.

***

"Have you got yesterdays footage?" Tyler asked as he walked into her motel room.

Folding her arms over her chest, she grinned as she looked at her best friend. "Yesterdays footage, huh?" She asked and cocked her eyebrow. "What do you want with that?"

Tyler held his hands up in defence, but he was grinning. "Just science, I swear," he said quickly.

Just science and Kate was how she read it. Ever since they'd met Kate, Tyler had requested more footage than he usually wanted to see. But she didn't mind. Tyler was a lonely guy; she was going to do anything she could to help him get some.

"Yeah, it's on my laptop," she said and pointed to her desk.

Tyler walked over to the laptop. He opened the lid and typed in her password (of course he knew it, it was the same password as their YouTube Channel).

The laptop took a moment to load up. It was old, and she was putting a small fund together to get a new one, a better one for video editing. Her editing software opened, the screen blank for a moment.

But then the last thing she was working on, the last video she was editing, came up on her laptop.

"What the hell is this?"

She turned on her heel. There it was on her laptop screen, the video she had taken all those weeks ago. The editing process had been slow, since Scott would watch over her shoulder, start kissing her neck and pull her onto the bed.

Tyler looked back at her. He knew the face on the screen, the man that was staring at the camera as he moaned. "Is that Storm Par?" He asked. "Are you sleeping with Storm Par?"

She swallowed. But then she steadied herself, holding her head up high. "So what if I am?"

Tyler shrugged his shoulders. "Sleep with whoever," he said and clicked out of the editing software, minimising the screen. He didn't need to be seeing that. "As long as he's good to you and you're not getting hurt, you can sleep with who you want."

She released a deep, relieved breath. Hiding all of this from Tyler had been no easy task. She'd almost slipped up, almost mentioned something 'she and Scott' had seen the night before.

Tyler opened his arms and she fell into them, holding her best friend close. "He's not hurting you, is he?"

She shook her head. "He's good to me, Ty," she mumbled and shut her eyes. It felt so good to be in Tyler's arms again.

Neither of them were aware of how late her period was.

#scott miller #scott miller imagine #scott miller x reader #scott miller smut #scott miller x you #scott miller x reader smut #scott miller fluff #scott twisters #twisters 2024 #twisters movie #twisters #twisters imagine #twisters fanfic #scott miller fanfic #david corenswet

293 notes · View notes

ash5monster01 · 4 months ago

Note

hey!! could you please write more neil perry smuts? they’re so rare and your writing is amazing

your wish is my command 🤍

It’s Just Practice

Pairing: older!Neil Perry x actress!FemReader

Warnings: 18+, smut, dirty talk, language, oral f & m receiving, p in v, fluff, MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s Neil’s first sex scene on a new acting job and not only is he terrified but he’s afraid he’ll be so uncomfortable it will affect his acting. You provide a solution.

word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

You don’t miss the way Neil wipes sweaty palms on the front of his jeans, eyes darting to the filming schedule for the week, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Ever since you both had started filming this movie he hadn’t been nervous, in fact he was a natural, which you appreciated considering you had been doing this your whole life. That’s why his behavior has caught you off guard, the script pages fanning against your fingers as you flip through them in search of the lines you’d have to brush up on this week.

“What’s up with you?” your voice comes out sharp, startling him as he jumps to turn and spot you in your director chair, legs crossed, and script open on your lap.

“Nothing, I’m fine” he says unconvincingly and it almost makes you snort considering an actor should be much better at lying than he is.

“No you’re not, take a seat Bambi” you tease, watching the doe eyed boy nervously approach his own director chair beside you and take a seat. You know he hates when you call him that but someone so innocent looking like him exploring the world of acting on unsteady legs reminded you of the sweet deer.

“I swear I’m fine” he says, stretching his fingers over his thighs, looking anywhere but you as he clearly battles with whatever inner thoughts currently had him this on edge.

“Neil, I’ve been doing this a long time. So let’s skip whatever this is and get to the part where you confide in your experienced friend” his cheeks burn red, taking your words in a context you don’t quite understand yet, because he was currently freaking out about the scene scheduled for tomorrow.

“It’s about tomorrow” he nearly whispers, causing you to lean closer to make sure you don’t miss what he says.

“What about it?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed together as you close the script and plop it on the ground beside your chair. A nervous hand meets the back of his neck, massaging the flesh there as he attempts to find his words.

“I-I’ve never filmed a sex scene before” he whispers again and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your lips, shocked that of all things you two had already filmed together this was the one that shook him the most. “Please, it’s not funny”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just-, usually the men I act with look forward to those scenes the most” you offer, trying to calm your laughter down. Neil shakes his head so you reach to place a hand on his arm, offering as much comfort as you can.

“I’ve never done one before and if I’m being honest the guy who went to an all boys high school wasn’t actively getting laid in college” he tells you and this is something new about him that you hadn’t known, it could explain why he was still so nervous and sweet around women unlike some people in this industry.

“You have… right?” you find yourself asking and Neil wears a panicked expression.

“Yes, yes, I’ve been with a woman. Just not on camera, not like this” he gestures to the script, knowing the scene the two of you were to perform tomorrow was a high stakes passionate moment between lovers.

“Take a breath Perry, it’s easier than you’d think” you assure him, squeezing his arm once more before letting go.

“How could it be easier?” he asks, exasperated and little shaken up about this whole thing. He’s nearly positive that if he had known there was a sex scene he may have never taken the job.

“It’s easier because not only are we professionals but we’re friends. You can’t look at it like an intimate moment being watched by an audience, you have to be comfortable and trust me” you tell him, reaching for your water bottle. Neil lets the words sink in as you take a sip, eyeing how some of the water dribbles along your lip and your tongue darts out to catch it.

“Friends don’t kiss each other” he says with the shake of his head and you snort, twisting the cap back on your water bottle.

“In this business they do, it’s nothing, it’s friendly!” you assure and Neil can’t help but chuckle, finding a semblance of amusement in this minor crisis of his.

“Well if you don’t remember, this is only like my third acting job that isn’t theater” Neil says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and rub his hands together. You watch as his biceps flex under that thin material of his shirt and gulp lightly.

“Alright, here’s the deal. After filming today, come to my place, I’ll cook you dinner and we can…. practice the scene. Make sure you’re comfortable” you suggest, wringing your hands together and hoping the boy doesn’t take it in some weird way. You had been doing suggestive scenes a long time, long before it was probably even appropriate, so this should be nothing. How hard could it be to make Neil comfortable with you?

“Okay, that sounds good. Thank you” he says and you crack a smile even though you were suddenly the one who was nervous. There was nothing normal about cooking dinner for a man and practicing fake sex but then again nothing about this job had been normal so far. So you nod your head and prepare for the worst.

“Yeah, anytime”

It’s taking everything in you to tear your eyes away from them nearly empty casserole dish, the very one you and Neil had just picked at in order to delay the next part of this hangout. You felt silly even making it considering it was the only thing you ever learned how to cook and you had to double the recipe to feed more than one person. It was even more embarrassing digging through your kitchen for more than a single serve dish to cook it in.

“The food was great” Neil offers and it springs you into action, shoving the chair away from the table as you collect the dishes and start towards the sink.

“Thanks, I’m not much of a cook” you say, smiling as he meets you at the sink with his own used plate. He smiles back as you take it from his hands, setting it in along with the other stack.

“I brought my script, you know, just incase. Even though there isn’t a lot of dialogue” he says and you giggle, realizing your were more comfortable with him than you had previously thought.

“Great, why don’t we go to my room” you sound silly saying it, like a teenage girl unsure of how to get a boy in her bedroom but Neil doesn’t even flinch as he nods at you and waits to follow in your direction.

You use the opportunity to snag your empty wine glasses and the rest of the bottle from dinner to bring with you, flashing him a quick smile over your shoulder as he follows you up the stairs and to your room. He’s ever the gentleman as you set the glasses on your dresser, pouring fresh glasses as he eyes the minimal belongings around the room.

“Cozy” is all he says and you smile, handing him a glass while sipping from your own.

“Temporary, I travel too much for work to ever get comfortable in one place” the notion surprises Neil, considering he stayed in the same place for nearly his entire life. Even through all of college and into his adult years he still hadn’t even spent as much time out of Welton as he did in it.

“Sounds lonely” he suggests as he moved to sit on the end of your bed and you tip back the rest of the wine before joining him.

“Maybe, but I’m used to it” you tell him, taking the script from his hands and opening to the pages. If you were to survive this, you’d have to be as professional as you could.

“Alright coach, how do we do this?” he asks, lacing his fingers and stretching his arms out in front of him. You chuckle, shaking your head lightly at the boy who was so nervous about this earlier.

“Well the beauty of a sex scene is we have creative freedom. You only have a few marks you have to hit, other than that there isn’t much direction to follow” you explain, holding out the script to show how the script indicates where they kiss, where their hands should be, certain sounds, in only various places.

“Okay so make it your own but also hit the marks” he nods, glancing at the script as he lets the new information sink in.

“I find it best to count and also pace it as if it was real. So from the moment we first kiss, count to five and then put your hand on my cheek” you explain, pointing to the written direction on the page and Neil nods.

“Okay, so it starts with us at the end of the bed and I lean in for a kiss” Neil says, holding the adorable glasses he wore up to his eyes. You smile as he drops them back down into his front shirt pocket again.

“If it makes you more comfortable we can practice, I promise I don’t bite and I haven’t been told I’m a bad kisser” you shrug and he bellows a laugh, moving the script from out of between you both. He was nervous earlier but he also liked you, thought you were funny, and if you were this willing to work with him there was really nothing he should be afraid of.

“Tell me if I do something wrong” he whispers, ducking in close and tracing the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours. You suck in a sharp breath, unprepared for his causality about the whole thing.

Slowly you tip your head up, eager to chase his lips with your own and finally, just as in the script he meets you, unpracticed lips fumbling together as he kisses you like it’s real. You kiss back slowly, sighing softly as his hand meets your cheek and slowly slides into your hair, fingers lacing through the locks and grabbing a fistful to steady your mouth against his own. If Neil was truly unexperienced it would not be this good.

Following the next part of the script he slowly eases you onto the mattress, chest pushing against your own until your head meets the soft cushion of your bed. For once you’re thankful your character doesn’t have to do much of the work, you just let out soft sounds of delight as his lips trail down your neck and meet the front of your chest. You’re not even sure if you’re acting anymore when you roll your hips into his own.

“We can stop here” he mutters against your skin but you feverishly shake your head, hands meeting his face and keeping him where he was.

“No, it’s okay. We’re gonna see a lot of each other tomorrow, better to just get it out of the way” you urge and he nods, continuing to kiss your neck as he starts shoving your dress up the sides of your hips just like it is in the script.

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable” he mutters, lips kissing along the fabric on your chest and stomach, inching his way down.

This would be the scene where he removed your panties, the camera would be just on your face as you moaned out words of pleasure, as if he was actually giving you head. Ever the actor though, Neil has found himself with his arms hooked under your legs and head awfully close to your underwear where he can undoubtedly see the wet patch beginning to form there. You both freeze, realizing fairly quickly this wasn’t a scene surrounded by a hundred workers, that you were alone and he had made you wet.

“I-I’ve never” Neil suddenly says and your cheeks tint pink, hands already reaching to shove your dress back down and over your hips. “Could I?”

“What?” you can’t help the shocked voice that leaves you as the brunette boy gives you a sheepish look.

“I know we don’t actually have to but I really am comfortable with you and if you’d let me?” he suddenly feels like an idiot, coming over here for help and then nearly begging to eat you out. You can practically see the thoughts racing in his head and you slowly pull your skirt back up.

“Go ahead” you urge and despite the initial shock Neil doesn’t let it falter him as he slips his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly begins to slide them down your legs. If you had known the night would turn out like this you probably would’ve never invited him over but it was already too late, you wanted him hopefully as much as he wanted you.

“Just, make sure I do it right” he says and before you can respond with some sort of agreement his tongue darts out and glides through your folds, a squeak escaping the back of your throat as your head drops back against the mattress.

Neil realizes the reaction you made is a good one so he dives right in, relishing in the taste of you as he licks and sucks, exploring all the new parts of a female body he’d never understood before. When his nose nudges against your clit a loud moan break free from your lips, making Neil’s eyes widen as he dares to do it again in order to confirm that was the spot to get such a reaction out of you. When he realizes it was no mistake he moves to suck hard on that one spot and your eyes nearly roll back in your head.

“Shit Neil, you really sure you haven’t done this?” you pant, whimpering as he slides a finger into you. Neil hums in response, the vibration of it tingling up through your whole body. He doesn’t pull away to give a verbal answer and instead speeds up his movements that you begin to feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

It’s when he slips a second finger into you and he moans against your clit do you feel your orgasm near the edge. On instinct your hand flies down to tangle into his hair, thighs slowly tightening around him as his movements never cease. Your other hand is wound so tightly into your sheets you miss the sly look he gives when he realizes you’re about to finish. With one last pump of his fingers and harsh suck to your clit you’re cumming swiftly, tightening around his hand as he continues to coax the orgasm out of you. The whines that leave your mouth are delectable and when your body finally relaxes against the mattress he pulls away, a happy smile on his face as his heart thrums in his chest.

“How was that for practice?” he says, breaking the silence, and you laugh quickly. At least he was able to be confident in this situation.

“I’d say we were a little too professional” you respond, breath coming out in heavy pants and Neil stands from the ground at the end of the bed, smiling down at you. Yet it’s impossible to miss how hard he is in his jeans, the length of him pressed uncomfortably against his zipper, and you gulp. Neil notices your eye line immediately, suddenly nervous all over again.

“You know the next part of the script is me helping you out?” you say in the form of the question even though you both know it’s not. Neil chuckles even though nothing is entirely funny about how your suggestion has suddenly made him harder and the look in your eyes proves you’re not going to let him off that easy.

“You don’t have to, I’ve kinda already stepped over the line” he shyly says, that nervous hand once again returning to the back of his neck. It doesn’t matter though because you’ve already sat up and started tugging at the zipper of his pants, fingers fumbling the button open.

“Shut up for once Perry and let’s finish what we started. Practice or not” and with one fowl sweep your tugging his pants and boxers down in one go. You had never considered the size of him before today but you’re not disappointed, in fact you’re shocked to see he had been hiding all that all this time.

Neil’s the one whining now, member standing tall and proud, grazing his lower abdomen and leaking with precum. You smile at him, hands pushing the T-shirt up and over his head before standing and pushing him down in the place you just were. He shifts, clearly in need of some relief, but you don’t touch him just yet. Instead you reach for the bottom of your dress, slowly tugging it up and over your own head just to reveal you had forgone a bra.

“Oh God” Neil says at the sight and you just grin, hands falling to his thighs as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling where he just was. Neil can barely watch as you place a soft kiss on his thigh, hand rubbing up to his pelvis and dangerously close to where he was desperate for your touch.

“You know Perry, of all things I never expected you to be so desperate” you tease and he goes to give a witty comeback, he really wants to, but you have your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and any words in his mouth are swallowed in an instant. You wait a beat before pumping your hand softly, when you earn a soft moan you finally dart your tongue out and slowly lick the tip.

Neil’s squeezes his eyes shut so tightly there is almost tears coming out of them. You smile at the sight before taking him into your mouth fully. The gasp he lets out is music to your ears and you take as much of him as you can. What you can’t reach you use your hand and just like that Neil Perry is a mess of a man in your bed, when not so long ago this was supposed to be an innocent and professional practice. When you speed up your movements he’s quick to snap his eyes open, sitting up in an attempt to push you off.

“Baby, I’m not gonna last if you keep going like this and personally I’d like to be inside you when I do finish” the pet name and the sentiment has your ears burning red but you release him with a pop anyway, arm wiping at your chin as you smile up at him.

“How does it go in the script? Me on top?” Neil blushes and you lift from your knees, crawling above him on the bed. His eyes dart from your own, to your breasts, to where the two of you will meet, and you can nearly see the gears turning in his head.

“God I’m in trouble” is all he says when you grind down onto his length, covering him in your slick.

“Why’s that?” you ask, an innocent look on your face as you settle above him and grind against his length again, not quite lining him up to slip inside yet.

“There’s no way I’m not going to get a hard on, on set tomorrow. Especially after I already know what it’s like to be inside you” he pants, hands gripping your hips as you move slowly against him, nearly killing him.

“You haven’t been inside me yet, in fact we could just stop right now and save you the embarrassment” you start to say lifting up, but his hands grip tighter, and bring you back down. You’re sure he might leave finger marks but at this point you don’t really care.

“Baby, I am painfully hard and this either ends with me inside you or me awkwardly going to the bathroom to resolve this little issue, and I’d much prefer the first one” the sentence makes you giggle loudly and Neil finally breaks a smile, grinding his hips up into your own and you’re quickly reminded of the sheer length of him nestled deliciously between you.

“I prefer it too” is all you say before you grab his member without warning and line it up with your entrance. Neil squeezes your hips tightly and watches with wide eyes as you slide down his length. Slowly, slowly, until you’re flush against him and your head is tipping back at the sensation.

It’s better than he could’ve ever imagined and without you looking he gains the courage to reach and grope your tits, shamelessly feeling them up. The action makes you grind against him and he stiffens, trying to make sure he lasts as long as he could. He didn’t want this to end. Yet you seemed to have enjoyed the feeling as well and without warning you’re grinding quickly against him, using his hold on your chest for balance. When the feeling doesn’t become enough you place your hands on his own chest and lift off him. His hands instantly leave your breasts and return to your hips where he guides you back down on him.

You stay like this for a while, filthy moans leaving both of your lips as you bounce on his length, your eyes rolling back every time he hits that spot inside you. When Neil is sure he can’t take it anymore he’s flipping you onto the bed, hovering above you and giving no warning as he starts drilling into you. The moan you let out is pornographic and as he continues to drive into you he leans down and takes one of your nipples into his mouth. When he feels you tightening against him he smiles and meets his lips with your own.

“Come on baby, finish one more time for me” he encourages before pulling back and thrusting into you faster. When his fingers meet your clit and begin to rub, you feel the coil tighten in your stomach, ready for release.

“Shit Neil” you gasp, hands gripping his arms and holding on tightly. Neil smiles and never slows his pace.

“Come on baby, so fucking pretty like this” he says breathily, moaning softly in your face and it’s enough for the coil to snap. You tighten down around his length, legs trembling as they try to close together and he never ceases his movements as you cum hot and fast.

“I’m not gonna last much longer” he warns and you wrap your legs around him, indicating to finish in you, and it causes his hips to stutter. When your lips meet his own he’s finishing, warm ropes filling your inside, and he pushes in deeply once more as he settles against you.

You both lay there for a moment, letting the weight of what just happened settle in. You had never let a coworker step over that line before but it wasn’t regret you were feeling. In fact your stomach was warm with desire that hadn’t quite burned out yet. You had found Neil charming and kind from the start but you had not realized the feelings that bubbled there all along. Brewing into something much bigger and deeper than you ever realized. Something that made you go through with what you just did.

“So that just happened” Neil breaks the silence and you giggle loudly, hand falling against the back of his head and keeping him against you. The warmth spreading from your stomach and all the way up your chest.

“I told you there was no reason to be nervous” you say, fingers grazing through his hair and he chuckles, arms wrapping tighter around your bare waist.

“That may be true but now I’m more nervous everyone on set will see how into you I really am” Neil admits, lips brushing against your chest softly and ending with a soft kiss.

“Good acting is all, Oscar worthy” you say and he laughs again, head lifting to look in your eyes. They’re so full of adoration your heart stutters in your chest and you realize just how gone for him you really are.

“Hopefully that wasn’t all it was, acting” Neil says softly and you shake your head, hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“No, that was real” you admit and he smiles before leaning and pressing a firm kiss against your lips. One that conveyed he had no interest to stop kissing you after this moment. Maybe you were done for, in over your head, but at least you had this moment. A feeling, the idea of hope, that you could hold onto forever.

“It was real for me too”

222 notes · View notes

enluv · 1 year ago

Text

ex-boyfriends describe their relationship with the same person w/ txt’s choi line!

choi yeonjun x fem!reader, choi soobin x fem!reader, choi beomgyu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing, itty bitty angst, mostly fluff, mentions of past relationships

word count?! ooo ermmmmmm good question…it’s long…

coco's love note: this is based off a video made by glamor titled "3 ex-boyfriends describe their relationship with the same woman", I may make this a series so lmk which other idols you'd like to see (from who I currently write for)!

video preview starts: now!

[y/n sits comfortably in a chair as her interview begins]

Y/N: How would my exes, describe our relationship?

[the video cuts to a pink screen with the words that follow it below]

We brought in three of Y/N's exes:

Ex #1 – Choi Yeonjun [he is seen smirking at the camera]

Ex #2 – Choi Soobin [he smiles shyly at the camera in front of him]

Ex #3 – Choi Beomgyu [sits nonchalantly while "shooting" the camera]

And asked each about their experience dating her.

[y/n will ask all the questions presented in bold unless stated otherwise]

— So we met at?

Yeonjun: A dance studio near the area we both worked in.

Soobin: The bakery my aunt owns that I sometimes work at on the weekends.

Beomgyu: A pet store near my house.

— My type is?

Yeonjun: [he contemplates his answer before saying] Well me of course...just kidding she likes fun guys, the confident ones.

Soobin: The sentimental type maybe or the party guys.

Beomgyu: A guy who can hold their own but still love her.

— He was attracted to my?

Yeonjun: Her dancing of course. The energy along with it was always so captivating.

Soobin: Her smile was really pretty.

Beomgyu: Her energy, she was always smiling or laughing and I really liked that.

— And I was attracted to his?

Yeonjun: She always told me she loved the way I could "light up" a room just by walking in so I think the energy I gave and how I present myself.

Y/N: The way he presents himself to a room full of people he's never met will always leave an impact on me.

Soobin: My height and if she tells you otherwise it's a lie!

Y/N: His...caring nature? [she laughs as the producer calls her out for her blatant lie] okay okay! His height was crazy!

Beomgyu: My handsome face! [he gestures to his face and raises an eyebrow]

Y/N: His stupid jokes, as cocky as he seems the guy is funny as hell.

— Who made the first move?

Yeonjun: I did definitely.

Soobin: Surprisingly it was me, she would never.

Beomgyu: It was me she was too "nervous".

— Who made the first move? (cont.)

Yeonjun: It was during a performance we did together, all the emotions were super high so at the very end of the dance, I pulled her in and kissed her. Yeah best time of my life, the crowd went wild.

Soobin: She came in super late to the shop and asked for whatever croissants we had left but we didn't have any so I offered to make her some if she went out with me the next day

Beomgyu: We had been hanging out and I was bored so I just asked and surprisingly she agreed.

— His first impression of me?

Yeonjun: I thought she was going to be this cold partner that I wouldn't get along with, but obviously I was very wrong.

Soobin: She was a bit quiet but really sweet, then you get to know her and it's the complete opposite!

Beomgyu: I swear I thought she was crazy. I walked into the pet shop for some bird food and there she was fighting the clerk because he called her dog overweight. She is crazy but man I was scared.

— Our first date was?

Yeonjun: It happened right after that performance when I kissed her. We went out together and had burgers, then stayed up well past morning just messing around and talking at a playground near the venue.

Soobin: I took her to play mini golf. It didn't go too well since it has mini in the name and well...look at me. She laughed the entire time and instead of me helping her, she helped me.

Beomgyu: We went to an arcade and I beat her in every single game, then she pouted for the rest of the day till I promised to let her win next time we went back.

Y/N: no comment...

— Our first kiss was?

Yeonjun: Well you see...our first kiss kind of started it all.

Soobin: In her car after our, second or third date.

Beomgyu: Ha she was way too scared to kiss me so I did it when I walked her home after we hung out.

— We bonded most over?

Yeonjun: Our love for dancing and performing.

Soobin: We both had an affinity for baking?

Beomgyu: In the beginning our pets and then gradually just everything.

— I introduced him to?

Yeonjun: She introduced me to this entirely different view in life, it was just so uplifting.

Soobin: A new way of cooking, I dreaded it but turns out it can be fun if you do it right.

Beomgyu: A lot of new music came from her, my playlist if filled with it all still too.

— He introduced me to?

Yeonjun: A new outlook on dancing.

Soobin: So many places to eat and drink.

Beomgyu: To not worry what others think whatsoever.

— Did we say, "I love you?"

Yeonjun: [he leans forward and cups his hands around his mouth] We did but I said it first not her and if she lies then it's because she's a liar and hates me.

Soobin: She said she loved me after she met my family for the first time, and of course I said it back immediately.

Beomgyu: Yes, it was a phrase we often told to one another.

— In the morning I would?

Yeonjun: She wouldn't let me get out of bed to cook or shower or even pee. I mean not complaining too much but damn woman I had to pee.

Soobin: She would give me kiss then get up to cook.

Beomgyu: We didn't get up till like 11 if we were together we liked to just be with each other.

— In the morning he would?

Yeonjun: I always woke up first but never got up first since she would cling to me.

Soobin: Um hit snooze? Stay asleep.

Beomgyu: I would wake her up.

— He would call me?

Yeonjun: I didn't have one designated name for her but to get her mad I'd call her sugarplum or something really cheesy.

Soobin: Arm rest. [a smile finds its way on his faces as he's asked to elaborate] There isn't much to say she was my arm rest.

Beomgyu: Fiesty or crazy.

— I would call him?

Yeonjun: She was so mean she called me stupid head all the time.

Soobin: She always called me really nice things or something super mean like giant.

Beomgyu: She called me stupid head a lot and big baby.

— The best thing he did for me?

Yeonjun: I helped her open up a lot more I think.

Soobin: I always made sure she knew how special she was.

Beomgyu: No matter what I always spoken highly of her.

— And the best thing I did for him?

Yeonjun: She helped me with communicating. I get very upset very fast but she always made me feel better.

Soobin: She lessened a lot of my insecurities and that really boosted my confidence.

Beomgyu: Take care of me in a way no one before had ever done.

[the screen cuts back to a pink background with the words below appearing on it]

So who knows her best? (next segment)

— I'm really good at?

Yeonjun: Dancing.

Soobin: Making people feel comfortable/comforted.

Beomgyu: Getting her way? In a good way not bad I swear.

Y/N: Dancing definitely but also teaching others.

— I could be better at?

Yeonjun: Singing because she loved to dance but singing...wasn't her forte.

Soobin: Packing for trips. She overpacked a lot.

Beomgyu: Not fighting with the pet store guy.

Y/N: Being on time or toning down when appropriate.

— I loved to travel to?

Yeonjun: Any place with good food and people.

Soobin: Oh she liked going to sunny places.

Beomgyu: Where didn't she like to go.

Y/N: Places with good food or a nice sun.

— He knows I'm really proud of my?

Yeonjun: How far she's come with dance.

Soobin: She always took pride in how quickly she learned to be on her own.

Beomgyu: Just her life in general, she is doing what she wants and not many people get to do that.

Y/N: As much as I am proud of my dancing, I am so proud of how quickly I was able to go out and do things on my own.

— He knows I hate?

Yeonjun: When people criticize her but have absolutely no background knowledge on what she's doing and why.

Soobin: People who project or are just bullies.

Beomgyu: Not being able to be independent.

Y/N: Not having freedom to do things I know I should be able to do.

— My greatest skill?

Yeonjun: Her passion for wanting to do things.

Soobin: Dancing, I probably haven't mentioned it but she can dance really well.

Beomgyu: Her brain is huge and she uses it well.

Y/N: I know how to make people feel comfortable and I can cook really well.

— I've always wanted to buy?

Yeonjun: What kind of...man I don't know. Clothes? She had a lot of clothes.

Soobin: Shoes maybe, also like jewelry.

Beomgyu: One of those big extra dog houses for her dog.

Y/N: I want to buy my dog his own house.

— I have a talent for?

Yeonjun: Being herself and taking no crap from others.

Soobin: Making people comfortable.

Beomgyu: Tossing small candies in the air and catching them in her mouth.

Y/N: I can make people laugh I think.

— My biggest pet peeve is?

Yeonjun: People adding their opinions in situations that don't involve them.

Soobin: When she feels like she's being restricted from doing things she loves.

Beomgyu: People calling her dog fat of course!

Y/N: When people call my dog fat!! Why would they ever be so mean to him!

— Who takes longer to get ready?

Yeonjun: Definitely me…but only because I need to make sure my fit is good you know?

Y/N: Him always.

Soobin: Of course her! We never made our dates on time but honestly she was so pretty it didn’t matter.

Y/N: Me but only because he has such a nice style he puts his outfits together so quickly!

Beomgyu: Her, no questions asked.

Y/N: Bye it was so him, he is so indecisive!

— One word that best describes me is?

Yeonjun: Amazing.

Soobin: Kindhearted.

Beomgyu: Soulful.

Y/N: Unforgettable.

[screen behind y/n changes to a different color indicating a shift in the types of questions being asked]

— We dated for?

Yeonjun: Three years and two months.

Soobin: Eight months.

Beomgyu: Two years.

— We broke up because?

Yeonjun: Our paths were moving in different directions and we began to not really know one another in a sense.

Y/N: Our lives were moving in different directions and we started to argue a lot, so we decided to split.

Soobin: I think we realized that our relationship was more like friends than a couple.

Y/N: He’s like my best friend, and that was all we started seeing one another as.

Beomgyu: Our communication was really bad, and we had a hard time being honest with one another.

Y/N: We weren’t completely honest with our feelings and thoughts towards one another. It caused a lot of problems for us.

— My worst habit was?

Yeonjun: She didn’t believe in herself enough.

Soobin: She had a really busy schedule and prioritized work.

Beomgyu: Workaholic.

Y/N: Impostor syndrome was BIG.

— His worst habit was?

Yeonjun: Didn’t spend enough time with her.

Soobin: I wasn’t the easiest to communicate with.

Beomgyu: Prioritized my bird over her dog.

— He hated my?

Yeonjun: She could never sit still, always needed to be doing something, could never relax and take care of herself.

Soobin: I didn’t and still don’t hate anything about her, honestly.

Beomgyu: She was bad at communication and so was I so it was hard to get things out.

— And I hated his?

Yeonjun: Probably my friends, she said they liked me too much.

Soobin: How serious I was all the time.

Beomgyu: I couldn’t take anything seriously, we’d fight and I’d laugh it off.

— Were we in love?

Yeonjun: Definitely, always will be.

Soobin: I think at the beginning yes we definitely were.

Beomgyu: Yeah no doubt.

Y/N: Yeah I loved them all, I think Soobin was more of a friendly or brotherly love but Beomgyu and Yeonjun were love love.

— We always fought about?

Yeonjun: Never seeing one another.

Soobin: Being with each other too much.

Beomgyu: How we never communicated with one another.

— I got over the break-up after?

Yeonjun: I wish I could tell you.

Soobin: After we both realized we wanted to same ending.

Beomgyu: What kind of question is that? I don’t know.

— He got over the break-up after?

Yeonjun: Am I even over it? [he chuckles and looks away from the camera]

Soobin: It wasn’t too long, I think I’d accepted it long before it was over.

Beomgyu: Never.

— How did things end?

Yeonjun: Not the best, but we’re better now. We grew apart and it will take time to get back to a great place but right now it’s good.

Y/N: We hadn’t been a real couple in a long time so when it ended it was hard, it hurt both of us a lot but I think we’re getting better.

Soobin: It ended super well I think?

Y/N: It took a bit of space but we’re happier now.

Beomgyu: We argued so much, and that hurt our relationship a lot. I wouldn’t say it ended well.

Y/N: It sucked so bad at first, like I really loved him so much so the end not ending well hurt a lot.

[ending music switches on and the background behind y/n changes colors for one last time]

— Would we date again?

Yeonjun: I think if our schedules and paths aligned with one another, then yes we could.

Soobin: No! But I adore her always.

Beomgyu: Ummm well like assuming we’ve grown and gotten better at communicating with one another then yeah maybe? I don’t know? Yes?

Y/N: I don’t know, I guess only time can tell.

— Are we still on good terms?

Yeonjun: I think so? Could be better.

Soobin: Oh definitely. We have movie nights together.

Beomgyu: Could be better, but our animals have play dates so there’s that.

Y/N: Yes! I love them all, and like yeah some terms could be better but we’re working on it!

— We stayed friends because?

Yeonjun: I don’t think I could live a normal life without her.

Soobin: She’s like my best friend, of course we’d stay friends!

Beomgyu: I think I’d die if she wasn’t in my life, not to be dramatic or anything.

— He would say he misses my?

Yeonjun: Personality, she made me super happy and we had a great time together.

Soobin: I see her too much I have no answer for this!

Beomgyu: I miss her dog, but like I mean like living with him not just co-parenting him.

— I would say I miss his?

Yeonjun: Cuddles, I give the best ones.

Soobin: Can you really miss something of someone’s when you see them all the time?

Beomgyu: My jokes definitely, we laughed a lot.

— Best memory of our relationship was?

Yeonjun: One time we danced in the rain because she said it was on her bucket list of things and I wanted to do that for her.

Y/N: He helped me check off a lot of things I wanted to do in my lifetime and I appreciate that so much.

Soobin: When we made a giant, I’m talking four foot tall, gingerbread house for a contest and still lost but it was fun to do it.

Y/N: We have so many good ones don’t ask me to pick please!

Beomgyu: Walking in the park at night when it was peak golden hour and she looked so damn beautiful.

Y/N: Weekly walks around the park near his apartment.

— The best thing to come out of our relationship was?

Yeonjun: I think I gained a lot of knowledge from her and our relationship in general.

Soobin: Our friendship.

Beomgyu: I grew as a person definitely.

— He would tell my future boyfriends?

Yeonjun: Oh don’t even get me started, good luck is number one. Have fun.

Soobin: You’re very lucky, she’s amazing.

Beomgyu: [he adjusts in his chair and looks the camera dead in the eyes] I hate you. She’s mine. [he flashes a smile after]

[screen flashes back to y/n and all three exes sitting in our shot together]

Interviewer: Would you do this again?

Y/N: Possibly? I think it’s been fun to see their answers especially because they’re all such different people, special in their own ways definitely.

Interviewer: Okay Y/N, that’s a wrap! Thank you so much for coming and thank you boys for agreeing to participate in this video today.

All: Thank you!

[screen pans as the words “ENLUV” flash indicating the ending of the video and we watch y/n and her exes walk off screen]

txt taglist! @yeoforce @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @gyuuss @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spooooooooooon @enhacolor @butterfly-skinnylegend @dinosdance @simpforsung @misschubswrites @junityy @soobin-chois @fairybinie @lolalee24 @ja4hyvn @syrxiee2 – (bold can’t be tagged, & if you’d like to be removed from the taglist or added please let me know!)

coco’s love note: HELLO TOOTS! this is my first “fic fic” back!! tbh idk if I like it, it took such a long time to write and I feel like it’s not my BEST but I’m warming back up to writing so I promise I’ll get better again soon 🫶🏼 thank you so much for reading and feedback is always welcomed/appreciated!! if you liked it please let me know!! (p.s: i was stuck between gyu & jun so 😮)

2K notes · View notes

thespineoftherighteous · 1 year ago

Text

more more more more aftg show bloopers (p 4?? I think?) whoop whoop de fuckin whoop

Neil's actor being a huge Duolingo dork and in the behind the scenes while the other actors are fooling around between takes you can often see him with his head bent and hear the little 'ping!'s coming from his phone

also during late night shoots, as it gets closer to midnight he always has a point where he's like SHIT my Duolingo streak. and then just blocks out everyone while his fingers fly over his screen

(fans make compilations of him proudly showing his Duolingo streak to the camera and the number grows as the seasons progress)

(he definitely is the kinda bitch who cares more about maintaining the streak than actually learning languages)

actually omg while we're on the topic of languages

Kevin's actor tenderly reciting his French lines to Matt's actor and Matt's actor is just smitten. and he goes "say something else, love" and Kevin's actor strokes his cheek while saying another one of his lines and Matt swoons

(then Kevin's actor turns to the camera and goes "I just told him that he's a disappointment and is going to get his ass handed to him by ravens if he doesn't do exactly as I say" and, from the ground, Matt's actor goes "hell yeah you did. talk dirty to me any day of the week you sexy, sexy man")

coach's actor is always swearing to the point where they implement a swear jar...really it's just something for the kids to jokingly rag on him about, but he goes with it, and every so often they'll empty the jar to buy the cast and crew pizza

they're filming outside at night and it's cold and in between takes Matt's Aaron's and Renee's actors are all huddled together for warmth and Matt's actor gets pulled aside to get his makeup touched up and the other two just shriek at the absence of his heat and catch up to him to tuck themselves against him again

Andrew needs to snap his fingers in one scene but everyone finds out that day that his actor doesn't know how to snap so he has a little impromptu snapping lesson and of course it turns into everyone else trying to one-up each other with their snapping abilities

Nicky's actor telling everyone what he's going to steal from set (will literally say"[about Allison's bathrobe] damn that shit soft as hell. Ive been needing a new bathrobe actually. I'm stealing this" or "I'm stealing this lighter/bandana/sunglasses/etc") but because his humor is so dry everyone thinks he's joking. until months later. when the prop department can't find shit

Renee's actress is doing something completely mundane but Neil's and Allison's actors start narrating what she's doing like they're in a nature documentary (always with Australian accents for some reason??)

"and our specimen now reclines herself vertically on a piece of furniture us humans know as 'a desk.' this clearly less-developed creature seems not to understand the purpose of such an object. but given that this is her first time outside her natural habitat (the jungle) her lack of familiarity with modern technology is to be expected"

Renee's actress: *flips them off*

"ah and here we witness one of the most common behaviors of this specimen. specialists have dubbed it 'flipping the bird,' and explain it as a nonverbal expression of affection" "oh fuck off"

photo from another cold night-shoot and it's of Matt's and Dan's actors, she's standing in front of him zipped up in his hoodie, just her head poking out and they're having a conversation with other castmates like it's the most normal thing in the world, looking the very image of the couple they play

so much glorious content from shooting the dorm sleepover scene. the most popular thing to come from it is a picture from after they wrapped where the cast and some members of the crew had moved even closer to each other amid all the blankets and are asleep on top of each other

Andrew's actor will sometimes actually eat the ice cream he's given instead of just pretending to eat it, and halfway through the scene he casually mentions that he's lactose intolerant and sends the crew into a worried frenzy

if you haven't clocked it yet, these bitches are competitive. and one day, one thing led to another, and soon a bunch of the actors are all being filmed having a plank-holding competition. Dan's actress is the first to drop and she gets booed at for it because "you're an ex-stripper where tf is that upper body strength?"

she flips them off and goes to sit on Kevin's actor, hoping to squash his plank, but instead he starts doing push ups with her on his back. she grins

(Rikos actor wins that competition btw. and Neil's actor goes on a rant about "we succumbed to the ENEMY? a RAVEN? your characters would be ashamed of you" (he also lost?))

Allison's actress pretending to do a get-ready-with-me using all the stuff on Allison's vanity

Wymack's actor falling asleep in The Dad Pose™ when they're shooting a scene on the bus. and everybody gathers in to take pictures

when Kevin and Neil get all up in each other's faces their actors will pretend like they're going to kiss each other

not really a blooper but just all the actors for the foxes and the ravens mingling together in between takes and it looks so wrong

give me all the actors constantly taking the piss out of their characters

for ex during a scene where the monsters are in the car on the way to Edens, Nicky's actor looks towards the backseat where everyone is in character and goes wow what a fun crowd we are you'd never believe we're about to hit the club

night shoots are a. struggle. for Dan's actress. and the others love to take videos of her just standing on her mark with the most spaced out expression on her face

Andrew's and Neil's actors are shooting one of their typical intense, deep scenes and after one take, as soon as "cut" is called, Andrew's actor grabs Neil's face and starts serenading him with the song that's been stuck in his head all day

Renee's actress getting scolded for sneaking snacks into her costume

when Nicky's actor messes up a line (and he's the least likely of everyone to do it) he starts spewing Spanish

Andrew's actor constantly teasing his brother and Katelyn's actress whenever they have scenes together

like the two of them will just be talking together in between takes and Andrews actor will be behind the camera recording them and saying shit like "look at that MINYARD RIZZ" (or he'll use their actual last name) "hey btw [Katelyn's actor] I taught him everything he knows"

that scene where the foxes are rushing out of the dorm to check on their destroyed cars and Matt's actor just faceplants (Neil's actor: "wow. the dedication")

in one scene or other Allison's actress is drinking an iced drink and during one take she just keeps calmly shaking the ice around in her cup until one by one everyone cracks

in one scene Allison's actress is wearing sunglasses. and in between takes she lies down and on camera you can see Kevin and Matt's actors whispering trying to figure out whether or not she's sleeping because they can't see her eyes

Aaron's actor always using Neil's actor as a pillow during car scenes because they're always next to each other and they're actually hella tight irl

the kids love to steal any props that coach's actor needs to use (pens clipboards etc) before they start rolling just so they can watch him try to subtly fidget trying to find his prop before they get to the point in the scene where he actually needs it

all the actors just taking pictures together in the most brutal settings on set.

like Neil's makeup has his face all busted and everyone wants a selfie with him. they all have a photoshoot with the trashed cars. they have another one in front of the "happy 19th birthday junior" set. Neil is tied up at The Nest while they change his hair and Jean's and Riko's actors take selfies with him. another photoshoot with Neil handcuffed in the police car. all these settings in terrible scenes and the actors are in front of them with grins and peace signs

they're terrible.

#are y'all bored yet?#aftg #aftgtv #neil josten #kevin day #aaron minyard #matt boyd #andrew minyard #dan wilds #nicky hemmick #allison reynolds #renee walker #david wymack

526 notes · View notes

theunbearableweightofpedropascal · 1 year ago

Text

Angel p.2

Summary: You and Charlie go on your first date.

A/N: I need more Charlie Swan fics, so I've resorted to writing them.

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v sex,

Word Count: 3.1k

Throughout the day you were taking time to get ready for your and Charlie’s date later. Thankfully you had the day off so you took full advantage of sleeping in till noon. Picking your outfit wasn’t hard, a mini floral sundress with pink accents paired with straw platforms.

Next up on your agenda was getting the perfect make-up look, precisely one that looked natural. A tutorial on puppy-dog eyeliner catches your eye. Upon completing both eyes you try it with a red lip stain, solidifying your look for the evening. You head into the bathroom to scrub it all off before fixing yourself a snack.

Your parents were going out for their semi-regular date night so you wouldn’t have to explain your absence to them. The clock nears 7:00 and you know Charlie is arriving around 8:30, you gather your step-by-step routine and start the process with a hot shower. Your counter is an array of skincare and makeup products, and your styled hair is packed away in your shower cap.

The water helps relax you and your thoughts about the date. You take your time exfoliating your entire body before shaving. You decide to leave your vagina alone hoping that’ll keep you from giving it up. Stepping out the the shower you wipe the mirror and check your phone seeing two texts from Charlie.

Getting off work now. - Charlie 7:40

Getting ready now. -Charlie 7:46

Looking at the messages makes you laugh, his personality shines through the texts. Since he was giving you updates it only seems fair you return the favor. You raced to your room to find a tank top and some lounge shorts, but not before lotion and baby oil. You place yourself in front of the mirror in your room, making sure the sliver of skin below your tank is showing. Turning your phone around you smile up at your camera waiting for the click.

Halfway done I promise. -You 7:53

It took you a little longer than you would’ve liked but the picture turned out great. You head back into your bathroom to make up for lost time. Carefully you begin concealing your under-eyes, the finished product gives you the natural glow you were looking for. The puppy-dog eyeliner from earlier is easy to put back on, and it suits your eyes more. The last two steps are your brows and lips but you decide to put on your dress first.

You check your phone and see 3 texts from Charlie along with the time. 8:20. The dress you picked out was a floral print with pink accents, and the neckline scrunches around your breast allowing you to forgo a bra. The sleeves went off your shoulder and stopped at your wrists, you decided it was best to also take a cardigan in case. The fit was close to your body but not skin-tight, allowing for a flowy bottom. Walking back to your bathroom, you finish your lip with a deep burgundy stain and brush your eyebrows with hairspray. You finally check your text messages, pleasantly surprised.

You look beautiful. -Charlie 7:53

On my way to you. - Charlie 8:10

The third and final message is an awkward photo of Charlie standing in what you guess is his foyer. You are almost sure that Bella was the poor soul taking the photo, you wonder how that conversation went. But you check what time he left again and realize you might have miscalculated your prep time. Your window faces the street so you check for his car and see nothing and there aren’t any new messages. Quickly you grab your perfume to spritz all over. Your platform sandals are easy to slip on before you make your way downstairs.

The mirror by the front door of your house is occupied by you checking for last-minute touch-ups. The doorbell sounds and you almost sprint to the door with your purse in hand before turning the knob. Charlie stands in front of you with a beautiful bouquet made of violets and daffodils. You weren’t expecting him to get you flowers, but you step back and motion for him to come inside. After you close the door behind him he hands you the flowers.

“Thank you, Charlie. They’re gorgeous.” You stand on your toes to peck his cheek.

“Of course Angel.” Charlie smiles down at you with flushed cheeks, he is nervous about if the flowers would be too much.

“Let me just put these in some water and put them in my room.” You run quickly to the kitchen to find a vase to place them in. In your room, you decide to place the flowers next to your bed. You meet Charlie at the door and you take the time to look at what he put on. Gone is his usual uniform of flannel and jeans, instead, he stands before you in a grey knit sweater with dark jeans. It even looks like he trimmed up his mustache.

“You clean up nice Chief Swan.” You glide your hand up his arm and along his bicep caressing it. Charlie feels his heart speed up at your antics, but he rolls his eyes to cover his flushed cheeks.

“Not as nice as you,” His voice is low as he reaches out to play with the hem of your dress. “You ready to go?”

You nod your head and he opens the door for you to step onto the patio. He waits as you lock the front door, When you turn around with a big smile his stomach jolts. As usual he opens the door and waits for you to settle before closing it. When he enters from his side he smells your perfume, and it gives him a reason to be extra close to you later.

The drive to Port Angeles was smooth, you opted to play the radio rather than start a meaningless conversation. Although Charlie wasn’t a fan of listening to music he didn’t want to subject you to silence. The view kept you mostly occupied, you forgot how pretty the landscape here was.

Charlie pulls the car into the parking lot of the Italian spot, at least for where you guys live. Surprisingly he places a hand on your thigh telling you not to move before he gets out to open your door. Excitement beats through your body when Charlie rounds the car, the date is already off to a great start. His hand stretches out towards you to take when he gets to your door and you gladly take it. You take the opportunity given and you keep your hand in his on the way inside.

The hostess greets the both of you with a smile before asking how many.

“I made a reservation under Swan for two.” Although it’s a small feat the fact that he made reservations in the first place makes you smile. As the hostess checks the books you bring your other arm to his bicep. Charlie sneaks a peek down at you only to see you look at him like he hung the star and moon. He’s worried you can hear his heart thundering.

“Yes, Mr. & Mrs. Swan please follow me.” She grabs two menus before walking to the right. As you walk through the restaurant you’re happy you see no one from town. Not that you’d be embarrassed by Charlie, but the gossip was already bad enough when you two were having friendly lunches. The booth you’re led to is the perfect opportunity to find excuses to rub against Charlie.

“Your server should be with you shortly.” You both thank the hostess before looking through the menu. You’re having trouble deciding between what you usually get or if you want to try something new.

“You see anything you like? You do like Italian food right?” Charlie’s nervous line of questioning makes you giggle.

“I love Italian.” You seal your admission with a kiss.

“Sorry I just don’t wanna mess anything up, it’s been a while.” Charlie scratches the back of his neck while looking away from you.

“I can’t see why, you’re a catch. I mean you got me flowers and made reservations, even though you didn’t need them. It shows you are very thoughtful.” You rattle off wanting him to know how much you appreciate his little gestures.

Charlie has no choice but to accept your compliments, and he’s glad you think so highly of him. Even if he can’t quite see it.

“Have you thought about which wine we should go with?” Charlie leans over to where you’re looking at the drink menu.

“I thought you would order a Budweiser.” You can’t help but poke fun at him.

“Ha ha I’ll have you know I can be a man of fine dining, sometimes I get my steak medium well.” The laughter that falls from your lips has his heart skipping.

“Well, then I think a merlot would be good.” You hear no objections from Charlie and go back to your meal options.

The dim lighting in the restaurant makes you feel at home, and Charlie doesn’t make you nervous. He makes you giddy and excited but you’re comfortable around him, despite your attraction.

“Good Evening, I’m Evan,” A teenage boy approaches your table with a smile and a basket of breadsticks. “I’ll be your server tonight. Are there any drinks I can get started for ya?”

“Yes, could we get a bottle of Merlot to start?” Charlie answers the waiter while you grab a breadstick.

“Of course do you need more time for appetizers?” The server readies himself for Charlie’s answer.

“Could we get a house salad please, I think we still need time for the main course thank you.” You’ve successfully finished your breadstick and reached for another, but Charlie reaches for the same one. He playfully slaps your hand away to collect his first one. Your jaw drops at his audacity.

“So that’s how it is huh?” You playfully glare at him.

“You got the first one didn’t you?” He gripes before taking his first bite.

“What happened to ladies first? Chivalry?” After your rant, he places a breadstick onto your plate.

Throughout the dinner, you and Charlie’s conversation continued to be effortless. You ended up ordering a shrimp scampi and Charlie chose a lasagna. The bottle of wine was one glass away from being finished, and you could feel its effects coursing through you. Although you ate most of your food and had a sliver of Charlie’s, you still had some leftovers. Charlie took it upon himself to help you finish.

You found yourself playing with Charlie’s hand, tracing the prominent veins. The sight of him hounding your food is surprisingly something you’ve come to enjoy watching.

“Did you want dessert?” Though Charlie’s question would get a ‘yes’ any other night, you had other ideas.

“No,” You look him in the eye and lower your voice. “But I really don’t want our date to end yet.”

“Then what do you suggest we do Angel?” Charlie, oblivious as ever asks you.

“I think we should get the check and head to the car, I think I saw an ice cream parlor.”

Charlie picks up the check and you don’t even pretend to reach for it, he’d probably smack your hand for real. On the way out you lean into Charlie as he has his arm wrapped around your shoulder. When you get to the car you see Charlie reach for your door but you stop him.

“What's wrong?” Charlie immediately questions when you grab his hand.

“Nothing,” You try to find the words to express what you want, so you resort to physical touch. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck. “It’s just you look so good tonight, and I wanted to…” Your eyes trail to the backseat and back to him.

“Angel, that’s illegal.” His words were chastising you but you knew with a little convincing he’d cave.

“And who exactly is gonna arrest you Chief Swan?” After your declaration, you trail kisses up & down his neck. Charlie's knees almost buck from the feeling of your soft lips all over his neck. When you pull back he follows you to the back door of the cruiser.

“Alright but absolutely no sex.” His finger pointing at you tells you he means business. He pulls out his key to unlock the back door.

“Of course Chief Swan.” You give him a peck before climbing in the backseat, Charlie opts to wait. He checks the area to make sure there’s no one to potentially catch you two.

When Charlie meets you in the back you waste no time straddling his lap. His hands are glued to your sides, while his head leans against the headrest. Your hands feel all over his chest like they’ve been itching to do all night. Charlie initiates the kiss this time, his lips languidly moving with yours. Your hips begin to move on their own, desperately rubbing against the growing bulge in Charlie’s pants.

The feeling of Charlie’s tongue licking at your lips had you moaning into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made and helped you rub yourself on him. He truly can’t believe he’s dry-humping in the backseat as if he was a horny teenager again. Charlie’s hands slip under your dress so he can cup your ass, skin to skin. He knows he said no sex but the way you grind on him has him seeing stars.

One of Charlie’s hands slides to the front of your panties, rubbing you through the fabric. You break the kiss to throw your head back in bliss. Charlie takes the opportunity to bring his mouth to your neck, licking and sucking until he finds your sweet spot. He knows he’s got it when your hips stutter their steady motion against his crotch.

“That feel good baby?” Charlie being a dirty talker was not on your bingo card. “You gotta tell me or I’ll stop.” He gently nips at your neck, prodding you.

“Yes,” You breathlessly let out. “Please don’t stop, don’t stop.” Charlie takes great satisfaction in you begging him.

“You gonna let me slide in that pretty pussy?” His words awaken the memory of you not shaving your vagina before, in hopes of staying out of this situation.

“I didn’t shave or prep for this actually,” You slightly pull away thinking he’ll want to stop.

“That’s even better Angel,” His response has your eyes widening before he finishes. “I’m a grown man and I prefer my women to look that way too.”

After his revelation, you go straight for his belt and zipper. You slowly unzip his jeans before reaching in to pull out his cock. You’re pleasantly surprised to find him fully hard and leaking. You swipe the pre-cum off his tip with your thumb to taste, the look he gives you has your pussy throbbing. He can’t contain his groans when you slide him back and forth between your wet pussy lips. Your poor panties have stretched to the limit.

Once you’re satisfied with him being putty in your hands you line up his cock to your entrance. You look him in the eyes as you slide down on him, both of you gasping as you take him. Rocking your hips on him feels so much better, the stretch he gives you makes your eyes roll back in bliss. Your hands grip his shoulders to maintain your balance, while he circles back to your clit.

Charlie has you wildly bucking against him when he finds your spot again. Your walls clench harder with every circle he makes. His other hand snakes up to the back of your neck, cradling it. The mesmerizing sight of your tits bouncing as you rode him made his balls clench. Charlie felt your pussy leaking all over his lap, he loves it. From this point on he knows he’s not gonna be able to get enough of you.

“That’s it baby,” His words bring you closer and closer to the edge. “That’s my good girl huh?”

“Yes yes, I’m your good girl.” You could not care less how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was the way Charlie’s cock rubbed against your walls and his thumb expertly moved in circles over your clit. The only thing on your mind was chasing your orgasm. The squelching and pants filling the car only spur you on in your quest.

Almost as if he could sense it Charlie smashes his mouth against yours right before the chord in your belly snaps. Your body is no longer yours, instead moving only on primal urges. The flips in your stomach die down slowly, like a beautiful decrescendo. He soaks in all the noises you make, both for his pleasure and to make sure you don’t get caught. The feeling of you cumming around him has him fucking up into you while you ride your high.

You feel the tell-tale twitch of his cock before you feel him release inside you, painting your walls with his cum. The heavy breathing coming from you two signals you won’t move for a while. His neck becomes a place of solace for you, his heart rate steadily coming down from your activities. Hands rub lovingly around your back, almost putting you to sleep.

“You know I wouldn’t mind ice cream.” You mumble into his neck.

“Whatever you want Angel.” Charlie’s low timbre soothes you.

Charlie makes the first move to get up, he tucks himself back in and gently moves you to his side before getting out. He opens the front door and comes back with some wet wipes he had in the glove compartment. Once you’re all cleaned up he works to coax you out of the back and into the front. You are knocked out as soon as he closes the door behind you.

Throughout the drive home, Charlie steals glances at you thinking he must be in some kind of dream. You are something else. Never in his adult years had he done something so reckless, but he would be lying if he said he wouldn’t do it again.

When you wake Charlie is just turning off the car, you reach out to run your finger through his hair. He leans into your touch before presenting you with a Dairy Queen blizzard.

“Cheif Swan, you are so thoughtful.” You can’t help but pinch his cheek before you kiss him. He simply hums at you in return, but the look in his eyes tells you all you need to know.

“C’mon let’s get you inside.” Ever the gentleman Charlie walks you to the door, leaning against the brick.

“When’s our second date? And third?” The laugh that escapes Charlie causes you to follow suit.

“How about next Friday? After work we could go see a movie.” He watches as you smile brightly at him, leaning down to plant one last kiss on you. “Night Angel.”

“Goodnight Charlie.” He waits for you to go inside and doesn’t head back to the car until he hears the lock click into place.

#charlie swan x female reader #charlie swan #charlie swan x reader #twilight fic #twilight #charlie swan smut

568 notes · View notes

loveundrwrld · 8 months ago

Note

omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe

also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33

how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!

i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.

thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is

---

yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader

(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)

tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.

the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.

but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.

... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.

and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.

he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.

but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.

except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.

it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.

good lord, what the hell happened to you?

"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.

he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.

and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."

you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.

tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.

he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.

he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.

there was one thing he could try...

---

it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.

though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.

the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.

from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.

"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.

since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.

you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?

he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.

"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"

you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.

he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.

"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.

for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.

you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.

"... got it," he said, breathily.

though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #tanner whitlock #male reader #i think tbh that this dynamic could be very interesting since tanner would have to rethink his strategy towards courting his darling #his instinct would usually have him want to act as a protector figure since he thinks strength is what he can bring to a relationship #but if his darling clearly is stronger/more dangerous he'll probably feel the need to switch things up quite a bit #though he’s still going to be whiny and desperate ala this scenario lol

177 notes · View notes

jjkamochoso · 9 months ago

Text

Drowning in Your Love

Noritoshi Kamo x gn!reader

Angst, fluff

Noritoshi saves you from drowning!

Warnings: small mention of blood

It was the perfect spring day. The soft sunshine beaming through your blinds and the calling of the birds outside your window made you rethink your original plans of rotting in your room all weekend. Getting up, you put on some casual clothes to take a walk around campus. When class wasn’t in session, you enjoyed seeing what the grounds had to offer. When class was in session, you enjoyed spending your time staring at Noritoshi Kamo. Unknowingly to him, he’d been the object of your affections ever since you stepped foot at the school. From the time he introduced himself that first day, he hadn’t left your mind or your heart for even a second. You hoped you’d catch a glimpse of him on your stroll but you figured it would be highly unlikely since he spends most of his time studying in his room or the library. Leaving your room, you began your journey on the trail that circled the school. You decided to bring your camera with you in case you saw anything worth documenting (not even 10 minutes later you had snapped too many photos to be deemed reasonable for such a short time frame— hey, it wasn’t your fault nature was so pretty!). Continuing your trek, you found yourself deep in the Kyoto school’s woods, enthralled in the beauty and overwhelming height of the trees. The wide river was flowing clear and fast, most likely the result of the melted snow, and you took some more pictures. You knew cameras couldn’t capture the same real life splendor of the sights, but you hoped the documented memories could evoke the same feelings you had while you were there. Your camera was filled with all sorts of those memories and it was your prized possession. You gazed upon the water, wistfully sighing. You hoped one day you could share these adventures with a companion that wasn’t a piece of technology, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. As you stepped closer to the water, you heard the trees behind you rustle. You brushed it off, knowing there were many animal species that live there. You came to the river’s edge, the water getting dangerously close, but you didn’t mind. All of a sudden you spotted some rocks that could lead you to the other side of the river. You were curious to see what was over there since you had never crossed the water before. As you stepped foot onto the first rock, you swore you heard someone’s voice call out but you shook it off. Getting further out, the rocks were extremely slippery and the ice cold water splashing on you certainly wasn’t helping. You shivered out of cold and nervousness. This idea was definitely one of your worst. Your camera bounced around your neck as you hopped from one rock to the next, your shoes barely gripping the stone surfaces. You were almost across—

“Y/L/N!”

Your eyes went wide. Uh oh. You were in huge trouble. Noritoshi had found you! Normally you were elated to see him but you didn’t want him to see you struggling like this. It was already hard enough to get on his good side and you didn’t need him to think you were some weakling that couldn’t even cross a body of water. You turned around to face him, the crashing of the water making it hard to hear.

“Kamo! Hi!” you waved to him, trying to act as nonchalantly as possible, but you could tell he wasn’t buying it.

“Get back over here now!” he yelled. He was never one to speak more than necessary and his harsh tone cut deep. Sighing in defeat, you knew he was right in his unspoken assessment of the dangers. You were ashamed of acting childish like this in front of the stoic, mature man you loved.

“Now he’ll never love me back,” you grumbled to yourself. You didn’t have any more time to grovel, though, because the rocks you had originally crossed were now covered by the water. Your heart felt like it leapt out of your chest. What were you going to do? Your eyes quickly scanned the river, praying for a sign of the path you had just been on seconds prior, but there was nothing there. Your cursed energy was no help in this situation and you hated yourself for not taking the school’s physical training more seriously or else you’d be confident you could swim your way across. The water was now up to your knees and you had to make a decision. You took a step forward, hoping to make contact with the next rock, but you felt nothing under your foot. Before you knew it, you were plunged into the icy darkness and the last thing you saw was Noritoshi’s eyes open to the size of saucers.

“Y/n!”

Noritoshi had started his day like any other. He woke up, ate breakfast, got dressed in his uniform, and took out his books to study. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to veer off course and spend the day outside. Maybe it was the promised warmth of the sun and the happy chirps of the birds? All he knew was that today was going to be different. He was strangely content, walking around campus by himself. It was probably because no one was around, all his classmates too busy watching movies and wasting the day inside.

“Tch,” he muttered. They don’t know what they’re missing out here. He found himself wandering aimlessly, something he never afforded himself to do. His feet took him through the abandoned campus center, over the bridge that led away from the school and back, then deep into the woods on the barely there trail. That’s where he spotted you, bent over in front of some plant or bug, excitedly taking pictures. He so desperately wanted to roll his eyes, pretend that your actions made him recoil in disgust at the way you got your clothes dirty and found joy in every little thing, but he just couldn’t. Noritoshi had been taken by you since the first day of school but he’d rather die than let anyone know that he was capable of feeling. He would give anything to go on walks with you, to see what piqued your interest enough to fill endless memory cards of photos. He couldn’t bring himself to ever be more than acquaintances with you because he knew he would fall hard and fast for you. Even though he was cold and distant to you, you still struck up conversations with him, included him in plans, smiled at him. It was too much for his guarded heart. One time he avoided you for a week but couldn’t bring himself to commit any longer. When you had questioned why you hadn’t seen him around, he lied and said he’d been sick. He woke up the next morning to a basket of various medicines, teas, and treats with a note from you; he kept that note in a locked box of keepsakes stored under his bed. Since then, he tried to be a bit nicer to you without letting on that he favored you over the others. As you continued on your own walk, he watched you from afar. He could’ve sworn you were some sort of mythical deity with the way you entranced him without trying. He wanted to go up to you, start a trivial conversation about the weather, something, but he couldn’t muster up the courage. When he carelessly stepped through a tree branch to get a closer view, he saw your head whip around and he quickly shoved himself behind a massive tree trunk. When the coast was clear, he chastised himself for being such a creep. He couldn’t even face you when you already suspected he was there! Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed you taking off into the water or else he would’ve stopped you sooner. When he spotted you with your foot on the rock, his heart dropped. You were a capable sorcerer, sure, but that water would be a formidable opponent against anyone who didn’t have Yuji Itadori’s strength. He called out to you, but you either ignored him or didn’t hear him because you carried on. Noritoshi sprinted after you, trying to stop you. When he finally reached you and called out to you, he cringed at the way his voice cracked from anxiety. He knew he was too harsh in the way he demanded you to come back but his logical side overrode his ability to be nice. He just needed to see you safe. Seeing you fall into the depths had him a type of scared he had never known before. Now, here he was with you nowhere to be seen under the current. Before he knew it, Noritoshi had ripped off his outer layer of clothing and shoes and dived in after you. His ribboned hair flailed around him when he came up for air the first time, seeing nothing in the water but the river bed and some plants. It was starting to get murky as he tumbled downstream, the current throwing him around like a rag doll. He was using his blood technique to keep his body temperature up as he traversed the icy waters. He was extremely worried about you and how your body was coping with the cold and the water that probably went into your lungs, you getting tumbled under the current, your camera strap getting caught on an underwater tree limb and strangling you—

He had to shake his head to clear his thoughts. If he wasn’t at the top of his game now, you’d both be in trouble. Taking in a deep breath, he dunked down into the water once more. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally spotted you, conscious, fighting desperately to swim up for a breath of air. He swam as fast as he could to catch up with you. He wasted no time wrapping an arm around your waist with an iron grip and swam upwards with an extreme amount of power. When you broke the surface, you gasped for air, sputtering and coughing. In any other circumstance you’ve would’ve been delighted to feel Noritoshi’s large, warm hands on your body but you almost wished the current dragged you away and finished the job so you didn’t have to face the embarrassment of him rescuing you. Noritoshi was filled with adrenaline and got you out of the water with ease. As you stood trying to catch your breath, you expected Noritoshi to pull away from your shaking fingers, throw you down on the grass, and start lecturing about how stupid you were, but he did none of those things. Instead, he surprised you and himself—he wrapped you in a tight hug. You were so caught off guard that your body didn’t know how to react and you stood there dumbfounded. It would be a crime to miss your chance to relish in his touch though so you quickly got over the shock and returned the gesture, holding onto him like he was your lifeline once again. You had never had a hug represent so many words unsaid, feelings unspoken. Neither of you wanted to let go but as soon as you shivered, Noritoshi was off of you in a flash, opting to hold you at arm’s length and take a good look at you. You couldn’t meet his eyes, too ashamed of what happened in the river.

“Y/n, please.” There he went, using your first name again. There’s no way he could go back to acting indifferent about you, you two were way past that now. He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for either. Was it that he was so desperate to see your face, to confirm that you were indeed alive and okay?

“Kamo…”

“No. Please, not that name.” There he goes, pleading again. You finally met his eyes.

“Noritoshi.” He visibly relaxed and let his hands fall from your shoulders. His first name sounded heavenly coming from your tongue. “Thank you.”

He just nodded, afraid that if he spoke anymore, he wouldn’t be able to contain his feelings for you. As you basked in the quiet moment, you took in the view of your rescuer. You didn’t even realize he’d shed his top with sleeves until now. You felt a blush creeping on your face as he realized you were staring at his chest and exposed arms. You both cleared your throats awkwardly.

“You’re bleeding,” he said suddenly. You hadn’t noticed the sting of the cut and trickle of red down your face until now. Without hesitation, Noritoshi ripped a portion off the bottom of his shirt and held it to your forehead gingerly.

“Once this wound slows, I’m taking you to the infirmary to get checked out.” You wanted to argue with him, but he was quick to give you the “I mean it” look. With the makeshift bandage pressed to you, you stared at the river that could’ve easily taken your life and you laughed without humor. Noritoshi tilted his head ever so slightly to indicate he was curious as to what you were thinking.

“I fight curses almost everyday yet I was about to be killed by a river on campus. Life can be so cruel sometimes.” He hummed in agreement. What he meant to reply was “Yes y/n, I completely understand. Human life is so fickle yet ensures such hardships. I’m glad you’re alright and that I was able to help you in a time of need.” Instead, he said:

“That’s why you need to be more careful.”

When the words came out of his mouth, he immediately cringed. He knew this situation called for a more understanding conversation, but he was so used to calling it like he sees it. His words stung at first, but deep down, you knew he was right. You should’ve paid more attention. You should’ve made a better call.

“Wait, that’s not what I,” he began, but you cut him off.

“No, no, you’re right. I needed to hear that. I look at everything like it’s not a big deal or that I can handle it, but sometimes, that couldn’t be further from the truth. With our lifestyles, I have to get my head out of the clouds before I kill myself and those around me.” Another sad laugh. “We all keep each other at such a distance that the only one who knows everything about me is this camera,” you said, gesturing to the broken technology around your neck, “and look where that ended up. All those memories and I’m the only one who remembers them.”

“Then you and I will make new memories. Together,” replied Noritoshi. If he didn’t have blood manipulation, his face would’ve been beet red. What was coming over him today? Oh. The fear that he almost lost the person he loved without them knowing how he felt. These unfiltered thoughts make sense now. Your eyes widened.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”

“I’m being serious, y/n,” he said, doubling down. He wanted to say more, bare his whole soul to you, but he hesitated like always. “Come. We’re going to the infirmary.”

He grabbed his discarded clothes upstream and the two of you entered the forest once more. You never thought you’d think this but you were glad to get away from that river. As you walked, you felt your hand brush against his. You didn’t have much to lose today so you decided to try and hold it. As your fingers grazed his own, he yanked them away like your touch was an electric shock. You frowned to yourself.

Right. We’re just friends. No harm in trying though…

All of a sudden your cold hand turned warm as it was enveloped by Noritoshi’s. He wouldn’t meet your gaze but you could see the tiniest hint of a blush on his cheek. Your heart was palpitating from all the attention he was giving you today. Did he like you back? Or was he just being unusually nice? Whatever it was, you loved it. The rest of the walk was quiet but comfortable. When you finally came upon the infirmary door, Noritoshi stopped to look at you once more.

“I was scared. Back there. When you were in the water,” he confessed. It looked the words he was speaking were causing him pain, but he soldiered on. “We’ve fought all kinds of curses, together and alone, and I’ve never felt the way I did when I saw you fall. It sounds childish, and immature, I know, but I was terrified. That I was too slow, or too weak to help you. Terrified that you would die for no reason other than the universe putting its own terrible curse on you. On us. You need to know that everyone here cares about you.”

Deep breath Noritoshi. You can do this.

“Everyone cares but not in the way… I… care…”

Okay that was stupid. Let’s try again.

“What I’m trying to say is that I care deeply… for you.” He cringed hearing his own unpracticed words and hoped you got the message. You, on the other hand, thought it was the sweetest thing anyone could have ever said to you. You knew Noritoshi had no experience acting on crushes and feelings of love but his confession truly wasn’t that bad.

“I understand what you’re trying to say. I feel the exact same way. I care for you, deeply, as well.” Noritoshi looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. You knew it was a matter of time before someone noticed you two at the door so you leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. He looked like he was savoring the moment like it was his last on earth or first in heaven. After you bid him goodbye, sliding the door closed behind you, he put his hand to where your lips were a moment ago. Yeah, he was very excited to make new memories with you.

BONUS:

After you got your head bandaged and your lungs assessed, you were ready to head back to your dorm to get changed. Before you could leave, though, one of the attendants told you that someone brought clothes for you already and handed you a neatly folded pile of fresh laundry with a note on top. Even though word traveled fast throughout the school and everyone probably knew what happened to you earlier, you knew exactly who it was that dropped off your things. If it wasn’t the sweet gesture that gave it away, it was the perfect penmanship of the note’s author. The note read:

Y/n,

Please meet me under the big sakura tree in the middle of campus. I promise our time together will be memorable.

Kamo Noritoshi

#noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi kamo #jjk x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader #noritoshi kamo x reader angst #noritoshi kamo x reader fluff #noritoshi x reader angst #noritoshi x reader fluff

68 notes · View notes