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prael · 3 months ago

Text

Spectacle

Kinktember Day 11: Cuckquean

IVE Wonyoung and Liz x male reader smut

words: 6,118 Kinktember Masterlist

"I love you."

You love her too. That's a long-accepted fact, and you've told each other this a hundred times over. Sometimes it's casually told at the end of a phone call, sometimes it's in some romantic setting like when you're walking out on the promenade under the night sky, but in a way, these ones are the most honest.

It's a little bit special when those are the only words that come to her mind while she is cumming.

She's lying with her head against your neck, still shaking in pleasure. You would reply but you're so focused on grinding into her and you're so fucking close...

By this point, it's all become a little routine. Predictable, maybe. She gets home, you cook together, eat together, watch a film or TV show together, then one of you makes a move and... You get the picture. It's any old weekday.

So maybe this isn't what people would consider to be earth-shattering sex(fuck the critics) but she likes the feeling of your hips bucking and you spilling inside her. And you love the way she struggles for breath in between her moans before she does that same little squeal right before she cums.

These nights have all blurred a little into one. Tonight will become a little section on a page of many; a few lines that are not much more than a footnote.

Silence sets in once you untangle your limbs and lay beside her. Her head is pressed against your shoulder and the post-sex smell hangs in the air.

You look out your window over at the walled gardens on the other side of the river. It's as dull a sight to look at as always and there's hardly anyone out at this time but somehow you're content with looking at this view.

"So, do you think we should visit my dad sometime?" Liz asks out of the blue.

"I know I said I would think about it, but I was a little busy just now." You roll your head over to the side, sacrificing the river view for Liz's flush face. "What's this about?"

"Like I said, he's been asking." Her words trail off and she doesn't quite meet your eyes. She gives an awkward shrug of her bare shoulders, and then scoots over, snuggling up even closer. You give her back an appreciative squeeze.

"I can't do this weekend, busy remember? But we can go next week?"

Her hand stops circling your abdomen and she lifts her head from your shoulder to look at you. "Busy?" Her eyes dart around, searching your face for clues, but she just has to ask: "With?"

"My friend's birthday, I told you last week, and you said, and I quote, 'Okay babe, I'm meeting Wony this weekend anyway, have fun!'" You do your best-worst impression of her which earns you a jab of her fist in your side and a laugh.

"Oh... I'm always forgetting things."

"You work too hard." You cup her cheek and stretch your neck muscles to plant a kiss on her forehead. She coos and moves forward again, returning to her rightful spot snug on your shoulder. You slip your arm behind her back, and both of you lie there together in comfortable silence.

Liz moves her hand up from your stomach to your chest and starts circling her fingers over your skin. The touch is light and soft and very very deliberate.

"I have another question..." Liz eventually says, trailing off her sentence as though she's half lost in her own thought.

You bring your hand up to hers, hooking under her wandering finger and raising her hand, and then you lock your fingers between hers. "What is it? Something on your mind?"

"Am I good?"

"Good? Good person? Good cook? Good girlfriend? Good what?"

Liz laughs gently nuzzling into your body to hide her face and breathing hot breath over your skin. "Good... in bed."

"Oh thank god, I thought you were going to ask about your cooking and I'm not so great at the whole white lie thing."

She tries to punch you with the hand you're holding but you tighten your grip to stop her. "Not funny," she groans with a smile on her face.

She tries to turn her head into the pillow but you refuse to move or say anything until she looks at you. When she eventually peers up and matches your gaze you tell her, "You are the perfect girlfriend in every way," you tell her.

She exhales a short chuckle and raises an eyebrow. "Nice dodge," she tells you, unable to contain her laugh, and you laugh with her. "It's okay, I have a plan."

You pause, her words suddenly throwing you. "A plan for what?"

"You'll see."

She refuses to say anything more for the rest of the night, but she smiles at your puzzlement and laughs whenever you try to playfully nudge the subject. And you do notice that a slight smile seems to stick to her face all night, right up until she falls asleep.

***

Sunday evening transport is so hellishly unpredictable, so you're walking in the apartment door about an hour later than you planned, and about twice as stressed as you should be.

All of that washes away when you look at the girl who's been waiting for you to get home.

The scented (mostly melted) candles have been burning for a while and the smell of them fills the apartment. Not only has Liz picked out one of your favourite bottles of wine, but she's poured out a pair of glasses of it already, though they're both half-empty. And as you near it, the bottle is too.

"Hey, Liz."

"Finally! Welcome home," she says with a smile as broad as your confusion. "I've been waiting so long. So, so long." She's wearing a gown you don't recognise that's soft to touch when you hug her as she throws herself against you.

"Is this new?" you ask, touching at the silk hem.

"Of course it is," she answers quickly. "I was saving it, saving it until a special night. You know... Something special to break it out for."

She moves back in your arms, so she can have a better look at you, and she stares for just a few seconds before she leans back in, this time kissing you full on the lips. There's nothing soft about it. There's no hesitancy, and certainly no tenderness. This kiss is so firmly decided, so purposeful.

She purrs her words against your lips, "I've been giving it some thought, and, I know you would never say it, but I'm a little bit... vanilla, in the bedroom. And, I know, I know," she stops you with her fingers on your lips, shushing you with the tilt of her head and a flutter of her long lashes, "You wouldn't say anything because you love me too much and you're far too kind, but, this is for me too, okay? I want to be good, I want to try different things, exciting things, and this is the best way for me to learn."

"Liz. Liz. I've barely walked in the door and you're throwing this at me. I need a minute."

"No, don't think, we've been waiting so long for you already." Liz is pulling your arm toward the bedroom door. Her soft touch and your own burning curiosity have you willingly in tow.

"We?"

She's smiling the wildest of smiles over her shoulder as she pulls you along. Your heart beats a little harder in anticipation of what lies ahead, and even more at the look of sheer excitement and determination on her beautiful face.

You dropped your bag somewhere in the middle of the room but you hadn't even taken off your shoes before Liz is bundling you through the doorway.

"This is Wonyoung."

Why the fuck is there a girl in your bed?

"Wait. I know. It's weird right?" Liz sounds giddy, almost frantic. She bounces up to you and pulls on your arm until you stand right alongside her, peering down at the young woman in front of you. "You know Wonyoung, right?"

"Of course, I know one of your best friends, but why is she in our bed?" You turn and look at the girl lying there with a similar silk gown over her body, from her neck down to just below the knee. "Sorry, no offence, but I have no idea what's happening right now."

Wonyoung doesn't react but instead chooses that moment to rise. She is sitting with her hands folded on top of her legs. She tilts her head and examines you carefully, with an unmoving gaze that's almost more uncomfortable than the two of you hovering over her.

"It's fine." The deep smooth voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife. Her voice is as cool and calm as you expected, not that you're all that familiar with it, you have only met her a handful of times.

"Liz?" you ask, turning to her again.

"I want to watch. I'm going to watch," she blurts out her response before falling silent.

"What?"

Liz exhales softly, then draws in a steady breath, steeling herself, as her mouth curves in a trembling smile. "I was talking to Wonyoung, about... things. And, well, we were talking, and I guess maybe this idea just sort of popped into our heads. I couldn't just dismiss it. And I've had this fantasy. And well Wonyoung, it's been a while. And you, I want you to. And I can learn." Liz is talking far too quickly and doesn't finish a single sentence she starts.

"What she is trying to say," Wonyoung cuts in with her voice sharp and full of cold steel. "Is that we have come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"Arrangement." Liz chimes in with the correction.

"That I will," her eyes drift, flickering and moving over both of you, "join you both, for a while, in a few different ways. What Liz is trying to explain is that, well, to be frank, it's been a while for me and I would appreciate some good sex. As for Liz here... It just so happens she has a bit of a fantasy about this whole thing too."

"Yeah, exactly." Liz cups your cheeks and kisses you gently. "It's completely up to you, of course." Her hands rest at the back of your neck and she closes her eyes, resting her forehead against yours. "I love you."

Your hands are hanging idly by your waist. This woman sits on your bed and your girlfriend clings to you, asking you to fuck her.

"Okay." A single word while your heart is beating hard with anticipation. You reach to Liz's waist and pull her flush against you and plant your lips against her soft supple skin.

She giggles with delight and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up. "So... We're really going to do this, huh?" Liz leans in, eyes flickering over your own as you exchange a final look. You feel her warm breath just a moment before the warm touch of her lips, pressing against yours, melting your resistance and hesitation, while sending warmth through you, easing you into acceptance, as the idea begins to cement itself in your thoughts.

There's a rustle of sheets as Wonyoung climbs up behind you and presses herself against you. "You're already late," she whispers behind you. "Don't make me wait any longer."

Liz leans away and her delicate fingers ease open your shirt, undoing each button in turn.

"Don't hold back. I want to see you give it to her." Liz takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Please, babe." Then she takes a step back, towards the chair that you're just now realising had been moved from the corner of the room so it had a close view of the bed.

Wonyoung pulls your shirt from behind, dragging it over your shoulders and down your arms. She follows the fabric down your back with a series of gentle kisses over your spine. The light tickle and feel of her hair drag over your skin, as she tugs the shirt free of your wrists.

"Liz..." You look over to your girlfriend who is staring with a grin on her face. Her eyes follow every single movement that Wonyoung makes as if studying them, examining them, processing them.

Wonyoung tugs the shirt free of your wrists and discards it. Her hands immediately reach over your chest and drag downward, making no secret of the way that her little breasts under the silk push firmly, and delightfully, up against your back.

Her nails drag over your skin until she hits the waist of your trousers. Delicate fingers, so precise in their movement, make quick work of the belt buckle, the button, and the zip. All without pausing, all without hesitation.

Under the dim light of the evening, Wonyoung pushes your trousers, and underwear, free from your hips. Down, over your ass, dragging them down your thighs. The cool air passes over your body, and you look to Liz for affirmation.

She smiles and she nods, waiting for what comes next.

Naked, and vulnerable, you're standing before her with another woman wrapped over you. Wonyoung reaches around you with both hands, she takes one confident grip of your still-limp length, and her other hand just a little lower onto your balls.

Liz's eyes light up at the sight.

"Not hard yet. Nervous?" Wonyoung's question is a tease. Her voice, velvet and silky, is whispered into your ear. The smell of her perfume is subtle, but the floral, womanly scent is unmistakable. She moves her hand in a light grip over the base of your cock and moves it slowly, methodically, and without the urgency you might've expected.

"Maybe..."

Wonyoung releases a silent giggle against the skin at the back of your neck. "Just wait..."

You look at Liz and her hands clamp tight over her knees as her breathing visibly hastens, matching your own. Her attention is fully, single-mindedly, upon you, with you, but there is no doubt about where her thoughts and her emotions lie. She's excited. In the comfort of seeing that, so are you.

"There we go," Wonyoung whispers. Her hands work leisurely over you. And yet in no time at all, you're rising in her grip. Stiffening. Aching for more. Your focus is on the sight of the only woman you have ever cared for, but the feeling of someone else's hand on your cock as you watch her is as strange as it is exciting.

She massages with both hands, always rhythmic, always steady. "Liz, do you like to suck cock?" Her question comes out smooth, and refined but pointed.

Liz glances up at you briefly, then down between her knees. She gives her answer as a nod, looking a little timid as her hands tighten their grip even more and her nails start to press into her knees. "I like the way his body reacts to my tongue." She glances up once more with a satisfied smile.

"That's good. And he likes it too?"

"Yes," you both say it at the same time.

You shiver as Wonyoung plants a long trail of delicate, wet kisses over your neck. She draws back her hand and leaves you there, cock stiff in the air. She walks around you slowly, finally that pretty face of hers coming into view. Her dark brown hair falls over her shoulders, the locks blending into the black silk of her gown.

She places both of her hands on your chest and stares right at you, no ounce of shyness or reserve as her piercing eyes dig deep, threatening to carve a hole clean through you.

"See something you like?" she asks. "Liz, if he is so hungry looking at me now, can you imagine what his expression is going to be like once my robe is off?"

Wonyoung rests the tip of her tongue on her lower lip, using it to moisten the pillowy soft, glossy surface. Her fingers rake down your chest as she drops elegantly, slowly to her knees and smiles up at you with those shiny red lips.

"May I?" she asks.

You take in the sight of her, kneeling before you, her lips so teasingly close to your tip that each of her soft breaths kisses it. A lustful, indecent twinkle in her eye.

You force a glance over to Liz, to which Winyoung immediately reacts, "I'm asking you, not her."

And all of the reasons to hesitate are just evaporating.

"May I suck your cock?" she repeats. She remains perfectly, unnervingly, poised on her knees.

"Yes. Suck my cock, Wonyoung."

Your breath catches. Your whole body shudders as she runs the warm, wet flat of her tongue up the underside of your hardness. Her gaze never falters. Wonyoung purses her lips, before lowering herself in her elegant descent, and letting her tongue slide around you as she sinks into the first of many bobs of her head.

Liz shuffles forward on the edge of her chair.

Wonyoung takes you deep, so deep, without so much of a gag or splutter. Her dark, doll-like eyes stare straight ahead, as she swallows your cock with her luscious lips and warm mouth. The warm and wet envelopes you so wholly that you can't stop yourself from hissing a groan of approval and you feel her mouth tighten its grip with a devious grin.

Liz squeezes her bare legs together.

Wonyoung braces herself on your hip, wrapping the other hand around your thigh as she rises and sinks back down again, again, again. Each time she gets a little quicker, a little stronger.

It's so different to when Liz does it. She's normally so playful with her tongue, and she doesn't take a lot of it inside her, but Wonyoung seems to have this sole fixation on drawing you deep into her. The very back of her throat greets your sensitive tip.

The muffled moans that roll from her throat vibrate around your shaft, and her tongue eagerly rolls all over your every inch. Her deep breaths get heavier, and her suckling becomes sloppy and wet. You're getting weak at the knees.

Wonyoung finally releases you with a short gasp and looks up at you with glassy eyes, "Fuck," she groans out before spitting over your shaft.

She clasps her hand over the head and grips you tightly, stroking up and down the length.

You don't dare to tear your gaze from the stunning, lewd woman staring up at you.

"Tastes... Mmm. So good, so good." Wonyoung whines her praise out between kisses and flicks of her tongue on your tip.

Your hands twitch and the instinct to sink your fingers into her hair is a near-unstoppable urge. You gently thread your fingers into her long, silken tresses, and gently grip them. She lets out a satisfied gasp and then says to Liz, "Look at that. See how much he wants me?"

Your gaze shoots over to Liz. Her eyes are transfixed, focused on Wonyoung's tongue, wrapped around the head of your cock. Her breath shudders, then slows.

You pull Wonyoung's head down while staring at your girlfriend. If she wants a show, you'll give her one.

A quiet sound escapes her, and then a sharper inhale, but still she shows no sign of objection. On the contrary, the pleased hum that emanates from her mouth drives you wild. It encourages you. You rock your hips forward, slamming past her lips and prodding against her throat. Your lust swells alongside your confidence.

"Good girl." You know how much Liz likes it when you're the dominant one, she often teases you in conversation about how it's hot when you tell her what to do and you notice her breathing become hitched when you whisper dirty things in her ears.

Wonyoung says nothing but moans her appreciation and rewards your command by relaxing her throat and letting you use her.

For a while you use her, over and over until you're right on the edge, Liz looks practically ready to jump out of the chair, and when you check on Wonyoung, her face is a mess. Tears streaking, saliva dripping. She's taken every last drop of this beating with nothing but an overwhelming desire to serve you.

She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. The desperate submissiveness in her act brings you that step closer, "Cum, cum," she moans out between deep gulps of air. "Do it. Give it to me."

She's holding your cock in her fist and pumping it towards her face. With the first hot jet of cum, she cranes forward and takes it onto her eager tongue. She looks up at you as if urging you to keep going, to fill her pretty mouth.

Liz gasps audibly as you empty the contents of your balls into the sweet girl's waiting mouth. Wonyoung does nothing but accept what you're giving.

Your girlfriend just watched you blow a load into the mouth of her friend.

With each spurt into the soft, receptive touch of Wonyoung's inviting mouth, Liz squirms on her chair, her tongue playing on her lower lip.

"That's so hot," she strains to say through heavy breaths.

Wonyoung swallows all of it without instruction and then cleans you off in the same eager fashion that she sucked the load out of you.

"Hey Liz," Wonyoung croons in that smooth, velvety voice, while kissing along your thighs, her breathing quick and light on your damp skin. "You should have invited me sooner. I can think of a hundred ways to fuck this cock."

Wonyoung sweeps her damp hair from her face. She presses her forehead to your thigh, collecting herself. You can feel her taking deep breaths through her nose against the skin of your thigh.

"Show me."

At that, Wonyoung glances at Liz in genuine surprise.

"Show me all of those," Liz pauses, and takes a moment to collect her words. "All of those ways to fuck my man. Please show me."

"Okay, Liz, you just sit there and watch me fuck your man." Wonyoung's lips are sticky with your cum, glistening and tempting in the low light of the room, the remnants of your seed on her chin are even more provocative, as Wonyoung tilts her head and reveals a gorgeous neck and collarbone that draws your attention. "Well?" Wonyoung continues, extending her hand, "Help me up."

"Of course." You reach for her, eager and so, so ready. You pull her to her feet, and into a heated kiss, a little rougher than you should, but she doesn't mind. You lean down, slipping your hands around her thighs and then up to her ass, lifting her against your body.

Wonyoung squeals as you take three steps towards the bed, toss her over the edge, and then stand over her. Her gown has fallen open, framing her petite, naked body in the centre of your bed. It takes no time for her to move back, propping herself up on her elbows, and then giving her body a delicious stretch to emphasise her every feature. She sits there, spreading her legs, knees parted, showing you her bare, wet pussy, flushed and exposed.

"I want you over me so badly. Pushing my legs up over my head and fucking down into me. But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to show Liz how to ride a cock. Would you like that?" The lust in her dark eyes shines, not for you, not for Liz, but for the moment, the experience, the power that Wonyoung wields right now.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good." Wonyoung raises herself, rising to her knees to look up at you, leaving a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your lips before peeling the gown off of her shoulders.

In a small, feminine pile, it gathers on the floor. Then she flaunts herself, not so much in an exhibitionist way, though she certainly has every right to, but more of someone who enjoys being admired. It's not just because her body is fucking stunning, but it sells such a sinful promise of how good it's going to feel to fuck, and she knows it.

You hold her waist for that simple purpose. Hands over her narrow body, soft skin and toned muscles underneath. For her part, Wonyoung extends one delicate arm so that she may brush her index finger over your jaw, just making that familiar, if chilling, grazing over your skin. You slide your hand down between her legs and press a single finger inside her.

"Mmm. Don't be afraid," she purrs.

You stroke her smoothly. Two fingers, twisting them, delving into her as her insides react, tightening, dampening around your teasing invasion.

"Already getting me so worked up, and poor Liz over there is being so well-behaved."

"Hey!" Liz laughs playfully. Her playful laughter trails off when Wonyoung's voice lowers, and the erotic, needy sound in her tone builds.

"Lie down, let me show her how it's done. Look at me. Watch me."

Immediately, you melt away. Back to the bed, to the cool feeling of the sheets under your skin. The quiet anticipation, and the expectation. With languid grace, and without her body ever seeming to interrupt its soft, almost perfect curvature, Wonyoung climbs over you. She places one knee on the bed, then the other. A hand on your chest, then the other. The weight of her, what little there is, pressing you down until the moist heat from her lips finds your cock.

She presses your length flat against your body, the lips of her pussy holding it in a long kiss that she gradually eases over your shaft. Grinding back and forth, you watch as your cock disappears under her as she comes forward, only to drag herself back down against it.

"Feel that?" Wonyoung pants quietly.

"Uh-huh," you hum.

"Feel that warmth, that slickness sliding around you. Imagine what it's going to feel like inside, hmm?" She coaxes a twitch out of you as you do exactly as she says.

Her tight abs roll into you, followed by the press of her thighs. Hot and clasping. Higher, her bare chest bears a pair of hard nipples on her little perky tits. Higher still, her face twists in expressions of pleasure, the delight in her shining eyes, the rapture etched across her face. Her lips tremble as something threatens to escape, whether a whine, moan, exasperated breath or a request for something, she never vocalises the sound and it remains nothing more than a sensual promise of a good time ahead.

Wonyoung slows to a stop and throws her head forward, putting her hands on your shoulders. You place yours at her legs, watching her close her eyes, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.

"Feel how wet I am?" Wonyoung moves her hips in tight circles and she struggles to hold back her whimpers. Her warmth flows out of her and over you. "That's me, getting turned on at the thought of having this inside of me," she whispers. She rocks herself again, this time drawing out her whimper.

"God. Fuck..." You gasp and groan. You want this. Need it.

Wonyoung lifts and turns your cock until your head prods against her tight and needy pussy. She pauses to look to the side, her hair falling over her face but you can make out a grin, that very sly smile as she tilts her head towards your girlfriend, no doubt appreciating her breathless arousal.

"I'm going to ride your boyfriend's cock now. Cum all over his cock. Make him cum inside me. How does that feel?" Wonyoung moans softly, tipping her hips up, down, and over again, toying with the head. "Mmm, you like the sound of that, don't you?"

Liz is gripping the arms of her chair, not saying a thing. She just whines with agitation, kicks her feet out and stamps on the floor.

Then, Wonyoung gasps with relief. While your head was turned, Wonyoung surprised you by drawing the tip of your cock into her. You snap you're attention back to her as she settles around your cock. Where her throat was so accepting, her pussy is decisively not. It's so fucking tight that she struggles to take much of you in at first. Such small movements over the tip, tiny motions that rock her. And yet the sensation is something that could, and does, unravel you in an instant.

You're powerless to resist as she takes more and more of you into herself with each and every drive back down. Each little push, deeper inside, the further apart her thighs, and the deeper she descends, pushing herself, forcing herself, upon your cock.

You hold onto her ass, guiding her every bit of the way, rocking her rhythmically back and forth. Deeper, harder, tighter, she stretches, accommodating you until you reach as far as her tight walls will allow.

"You're gonna ruin this pussy." The sultry voice and the crude declaration cause another tremble out of you.

At that, she places both hands on either side of your head, palms flat on the sheet. Her pretty face is so close, just bobbing slightly as she fucks you. She pants heavily, her small, round breasts quiver and bounce up and down in front of your eyes.

She stays like that for a while, fucking herself on you, telling you all sorts of sweet nothings. "Gonna ride that thick cock. Love it so much, feel so fucking good." All the while, her perfectly tight ass is in your rough hands as you knead it and pull it wide.

Eventually, she throws herself back, breaking the intense stare, and making herself a spectacle again. She leans back, far back, her hand behind her for support, and gives both of you a show. Those slender thighs shake just enough to send you crazy each time she slaps them down against your waist. Her cute, shapely tits bouncing and jiggling.

"Fuck! Liz! You lucky girl! Mhm!" You're squeezing and palming her thighs roughly, fingers into flesh. Pulling her down hard, trying your damnedest to force her even tighter against you.

"Sfucking hot," A filthy compliment that is rewarded with another gasp of arousal and a short burst of bouncing as desperately fast as she can.

She slows to a crawl again. One leg moves off you, and then her hips swivel and the movement on your length is breathtaking. She's sideways on you now. One leg between yours, and the other stretched out over your body, her foot by your face.

Wonyoung is looking right at Liz now. "Watch me cum on your boyfriend's cock."

You're holding her by the leg she has over you, and you're using it as the leverage you need to buck into her while she works the lateral movement. The bed shakes and protests under your exertions. Wonyoung pulls her hands behind her neck, scooping up her hair and holding it up, so every inch of her body can be seen.

"Look. Look, Liz." Wonyoung lets out a guttural moan. A throaty, visceral noise of climax catching you off guard. You keep rolling your hips, taking in the way her body tenses and tightens and she trembles all over. "Cumming. On your. Boyfriend." She barely gets the words out as her head falls backwards and you can't take your eyes off of her, or the way she spasms on your lap.

She struggles to keep up the pace and rhythm but still tries her best, her resolve amid an orgasm is worthy of respect. You move her, this time, hands on her waist and twisting her so she faces away from you. She allows you and gasps in delight the moment you reposition her, her hands reaching for your thighs.

You continue the thrusts, with Wonyoung content now to take the punishment. You fuck her in a steady, thumping motion, the slap of skin against skin loud and ringing in the air. Her ass is marked red, compliments of the tight squeeze you had on it earlier. Her taut little cheeks bounce and shake each time you slam into her. Her own whiny moans and squeals mix and add a new melody to the atmosphere.

Wonyoung is nothing but moans now, one orgasm just cascaded into the next, and she shows no signs of stopping. Every now and then her sounds break through, becoming cries. Each time they do, you follow it up with a series of rapid slapping of hips. It's all you can do, just to keep yourself going, chasing that elusive climax that the three of you so desperately want.

Liz is fucking losing it. She's squeezing her thighs together. Grinding. Dancing in her chair. Her fingers, her knuckles, are white with strain as she holds onto the chair for dear life. She's making squeals and gasping moans too—she wants to cum so bad. It is as though her pussy is squeezing on nothing, you can imagine just how needy and wet she is. How painful it must feel, not being able to have that satisfaction that you can give Wonyoung.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wonyoung wails out her climax with such intensity that it actually leaves her voice a little hoarse and you can't hold it anymore, you have to follow her lead. You have to cum.

So you do.

Wonyoung drags her nails across the skin of your legs as you reach that tipping point and pump a thick stream of semen into her. There is more and more, and she takes it all greedily as if there's no limit. As if she'll never be satisfied.

You let it all out, pump her full of hot, thick, semen. The release is enough that, for a while, you blank out the world. Nothing matters but the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

Consciousness returns with you lying limp on the bed. Your head rolls to one side and you struggle to stay focused. You gaze down past your feet where Wonyoung lies collapsed, the exact same way as yourself. Still, you watch, and try to keep focus, and you do because when Wonyoung awakes she lifts her head, a sheen of perspiration glistening and flowing in droplets from her dark, silky hair and down her face, streaking her skin and flowing over her red cheeks and flushed lips.

The combination of both exhaustion and arousal as Wonyoung catches her breath causes a wonderful sight before she meets your own exhausted gaze and that smile of hers, all pearly white and perfect and so damn alluring.

"Fuck! I have to! Fuck!" Liz is rampant now, her hand reaches in between her own legs and then her legs are spread apart and you can see her furiously fingering her own pussy, the motion of her whole arm trembling and shaking. Her pussy is wet, and gleaming. And the fingers in it move and dive deeply. "That was the hottest fucking thing... I need to... Cum..."

Wonyoung supports the side of her face up with her fist, a grin on her features as she watches the way Liz acts like she's going insane, out of her mind, she just needs the cum in the worst way, the urgency apparent from the way her fingers disappear, pumping into herself.

Wonyoung starts crawling up you, to rest on you, while transfixed on your girlfriend pumping herself into oblivion. "Oh, Liz, that is beautiful," her eyes light up as she comments, "Now imagine the feel of it... His cum leaking out of me right now. Because he fucked me and not you."

That's what sends Liz spiralling over the edge.

Liz's body twists, writhes, shudders and convulses in orgasm. It's almost hypnotic, her thighs squeeze together so hard that her hand must hurt, but she just goes on and on and on, never easing, and it leaves a hot, sticky mess all over the chair and her fingers. You watch as she rides those waves of blissful gratification, all over a set of digits that aren't nearly enough to satisfy, not even for a moment.

Wonyoung brings her lips close to your face, hot breath washes over you, and she whispers quietly into your ear, "She's going to want this again, you know? Look at her, you even seen her cum that hard?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then me and you? We're going to be having a lot of sex."

#kinktember #kpop smut #Liz smut #Wonyoung smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #m reader #smut #Wonyoung x reader #IVE smut #Liz x Reader #Cuckquean

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hvlcy0n · 4 months ago

Text

SAY IT (PT. 1) . . . hayato suo x fem!reader

+ you’ve never reciprocated any of suo’s confessions of love, but a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation among you and your friends grants him all the insight he needs.

+ 4.2k words

+ NSFW (MINORS DNI) // UNEDITED // brief mentions of sex // mentions of edging at the end // brief mentions of overstimulation // mentions of past heartbreak/insecurities // established relationship // manipulation // i got all the big stuff but i’m definitely forgetting some minor stuff i’m just tired of looking at this

+ this is my first time writing suo so plEASE cut me some slack, i got tired of seeing it every time i opened google docs. i left any descriptions/names of your friends extremely vague on purpose so you can fill in whoever. the NEXT part of this will be centered around smut, but this one was more just kinda the build-up to his decision to push you out of your comfort zone.

suo has always been able to see right through you.

granted, that was his area of expertise—the ability to pierce through people’s defenses as if they were nothing more than a gossamer film and unearth whatever information he resolved to discover. he was regarded as dangerous by both allies and enemies, capable of sinking his fingertips into peoples’ psyches and peeling back the layers until their self–control began to fracture and ruby welled beneath his touch and trickled down to obscure his opponents’ vision in an all–consuming bloodlust that left them vulnerable and uncoordinated.

he had a critical eye and a terrifying intuition; and while his friends wouldn’t trade him for the world, they were also aware of the uncharted territory of suo’s complex character—not to mention the existence of a small distance between them that had been discreetly established by suo himself. while he genuinely enjoyed the presence of his friends, he valued his privacy and space, and he often kept information about him restricted. he was more enigmatic than anything else.

so, when suo offhandedly mentioned having a girlfriend, they were shocked. although emotionally intelligent, none of his friends pegged him as a romantic, his secrecy and manipulative tactics seemingly too insurmountable an obstacle in a relationship. generally, he was kind and respectful, but his demeanor could flip on a dime in the face of discourteous behavior. he could be mean—unfair. it wasn’t uncommon for him to mask his slick tongue and cruelty behind refined language and his gentlemanly composure as he subjected his targets to public humiliation. sometimes, his emotions could get the better of him, and he could be frightening when they do. a gentleman? maybe. but there’s more nuance to him than that.

unbeknownst to them, suo was remarkably softer with you. warmth and genuine kindness emanated from every content smile and careful dance of his hands over your skin, calloused fingertips bearing an ardent reverence that would cause even aphrodite to flush. the sharp edge to his tongue smoothed, his teasing light-hearted and devoid of the faint, underlying drip of venom that could sometimes be heard punctuating his words if someone listened closely enough. when he observed you, his eyes glowed with innocuous curiosity and rather than distant analysis.

the more time he spent with you, the more he could read you like an open book, deft fingertips tracing over even your most tattered, weathered pages and the most smudged ink to wholly bare the contents of your soul to him. he sought to know you in your entirety—your likes and dislikes, how you like to be touched, how you react to certain things. after all, the more he knows about you, the better he can protect you.

the better he can love you.

love.

that’s a tricky subject for you to navigate, he’s learned.

you were never one to shy away from his affection. in fact, you clearly delighted in the attention he lavished you with. there was never a question as to whether you would hurry to lace your fingers with his if he reached out to you, if you would lean into his caresses, or if you would let him pepper kisses across your cheeks. you were so receptive to his ministrations, so much so that it was almost natural for your body to drift toward his in search of some sort of closeness. whatever he doled out, you returned, and that included the light banter and flirtatious remarks you two often exchanged. you fascinated him, kept him on his toes.

the only area of your relationship that you fell short in was verbal confessions of love. suo knew that you were fiercely protective of your heart, already having subjected it to enough bruises and scrapes throughout your life to make you want to guard it to the best of your abilities. he was fortunate as it was that you had trusted him enough to relinquish it to him.

he knew that you were still learning to navigate the choppy waters of vulnerability—true vulnerability. it was easy enough to bask in suo’s attention and rely on his ability to comprehend the unspoken, but to say the words aloud would be to speak it into being, to charge the universe with the magnetic force that will bind your fate to his, to make it real. you never said anything that you didn’t mean, and suo understood that after all your hard work fortifying your emotions, to openly admit it would require you to let down your guard entirely and let him in.

there’s no doubt in his mind that you love him. he can feel it in the way you pour every ounce of heartfelt emotion into the kisses you press to his lips, your dedication toward memorizing and analyzing all of his microexpressions so that you can understand him on a deeper level, and the adoration that pools in your eyes like molten honey as you observe him when you think he isn’t paying attention. only a fool would mistake the depth of your feelings.

he can read you like a book, that much is true, but it’s much more enjoyable to have it read to him line–by–line than to flip through the pages on his own.

it’s quite endearing, actually, the way your skin would warm and your brain would stall whenever his lips would brush a saccharine “i love you” over the shell of your ear, or the way goosebumps would scatter across your skin and you would clench around him whenever he’d pair the words with a well–timed thrust inside you. he thrives off flustering you and witnessing your demeanor crumble into a delightful shyness that never fails to cause a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

even so, he sometimes finds himself yearning for that reassurance that you’re as irrevocably enamored with him as he is with you—that you crave him the way he craves you. he understands that it’s greedy of him and that he should tamp down such self–centered emotions. he knows what your feelings toward him are; it would be inconsiderate of him to pry you out of your shell until you’re ready in order to satisfy his own desires. the concept of love operates differently for different people, and he can accept that.

it always slips his mind how swiftly things can change.

it was a complete coincidence when he’d stumbled upon you in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant, accompanied by a few friends of yours. he recalled you telling him that you were going out for lunch with them, but he had no idea that his outing in search of a new pair of shoes to replace his worn ones would cause your paths to cross. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on your conversation, only to simply greet you and then continue about his business, but he paused when he heard his name leave one of your friends’ lips.

“so, are you and suo still together?”

oh? before he can even acknowledge the gravity of contravening your privacy, his body is sparked into motion all on its own. he’s quick to retreat, melting into the slanted shadow proffered by the slim alleyway he had been poised to exit, just beyond the scope of your view.

he’s well aware that this is an infraction of the trust you extended to him, but he forces himself to disregard the prick of guilt aside in favor of potentially learning valuable information about the inner workings of your brain. it may not be ideal, but it’s for the best, he reasons. what if you reveal to your friends ways that he could better serve as your boyfriend? what if you feel more comfortable explaining to your friends your reservations about returning his heartfelt confessions? besides, the conversation is technically also centered around him, so surely it would be rude to bar him from listening in.

“of course,” the thought of you denying your relationship was never a concern for suo. you both trust each other implicitly, but to hear you stake such an immediate, explicit claim over him rouses a ticklish spark of delight in his stomach all the same. you scoff, as if the idea was so improbable it was ridiculous. “i’ll tie that man up in my basement before i let him just leave.” suo chuckles gently to himself. perhaps you truly are as invested as he is, after all.

“the dick must be fucking life–altering, if that’s the case.” she laughs. “come on, tell us. is it?”

“wh—” suo’s lips settle into a small, amused smile as he watches you flounder under her questioning, eyes feverishly flitting to your other friends for help, only for each one of them to leave you to drown with their own wide–eyed, inquisitive stares. “oh, my god, i’m not telling you that!” nervous laughter wracks your chest. suo’s shrewd gaze can practically perceive the memories flickering through your brain as you try to maintain your composure, each one spliced together in a salacious collage that has blood thrumming beneath your skin. suo has always been one to fine–tune his craft, and his perfectionism extended to the bedroom as he used his meticulous attention to detail and acute awareness of your reactions to guide you to your peak over . . . and over . . . and over again until he was satisfied.

and of course, you knew that.

“but seriously,” another girl props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm, observing you closely. “i’ve never seen you like this before. before him, you were all ‘ew, gross, men’—not to say that isn’t still valid, but y’know. maybe suo really is a good match for you.”

“do you love him?” the first girl pipes up ecstatically.

now we’re getting somewhere.

it requires significant concentration for suo not to laugh outright when a jolt of surprise grips your body, your muscles visibly tensing and eyes rounding. your lips part to speak, but the words remain wedged in your throat. “i—uh . . .”

“wait, for real?” the third girl, who had remained quiet this entire time, finally speaks up. “do you not actually love him?”

this time, when you don’t at least make an effort to deny their claims, suo’s smile begins to wilt. from suo’s angle, your expression is sapped of the typical bashfulness he had been anticipating. rather, your features are murky with conflict, brows furrowed pensively and fingertips drumming against the chilled glass of the untouched beverage sitting between your palms. for the first time in a while, he can’t read you, and while he’s always enjoyed a bit of reticence and mystery, he doesn’t want it like this—not when such uncertainty is founded on the future of his relationship. did he misunderstand you somehow? was he wrong? no, there’s no way that you’d have done everything you did if you didn’t harbor some type of love for him. it’s simply not plausible. right?

the silence is unnerving, causing a chasm of apprehension to split his stomach and swallow up the candlelit flicker of warmth that once resided in his chest. he’s never been an anxious individual, typically collected and level–headed under pressure. in fact, he’s always prided himself on his ability to remain composed; but now, as he stands here, body stiff and heart thumping as he waits for you to continue, he figures that love really is one hell of a drug. only the wideness of his eyes betrays his usual poise, but even that would be enough for any of his friends to notice that something is amiss. well, mature as he may be and as far above the fragility of human nature that others believe he is, he’s still only human. and it’s times like this that remind him that he’s still weak.

god, how far has he fallen? how much power did he give you?

“all this time, i thought you guys were in love.” the second girl gasps, hand flitting up to cover her mouth. “so, what’s going on? what’s wrong with him?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to find your voice to defend him, but for some reason, it doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the worried spin of his mind. “he’s wonderful, it’s just—”

“is he mean to you?” the second girl presses. “because if he is, i can—”

“he’s obviously not mean to her if she’s still with him.” the first girl retorts, silencing her with a dismissive wave of her hand. before the second girl can argue, she continues. “it could just be that it’s too early for her to know if she does.”

“it’s been months.” the third girl points out. “something has to be up if she doesn’t love him—”

“i do!”

suo’s fingers twitch.

your friends fall silent as the words burst from your chest, unwavering and aflame with conviction. your voice quiets as you fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, eyes still fixated on the cup in front of you. “i do love him, it’s just . . . i’ve never felt like this for anyone, and i don’t know what to do. it feels so real and intense, and it’s scary.”

your words reverberate through suo’s mind as he expels a breath he didn’t notice was wedged in his chest. “i do love him.” his entire body seems to decompress, the tension in his muscles alleviating. “i’ve never felt like this for anyone.” suddenly, your hesitance makes sense. not only were you protective of your heart to begin with, but the magnitude of the importance of this was much larger and therefore more frightening than he realized. suo’s heart swells in his chest at your confession, pride licking up his sternum to grace the apples of his cheeks with a feather–light kiss of ruby. he’s honored to be the first person you’re entrusting with such a privilege—well, even if he’s not supposed to know about it yet.

“what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” the first girl stares at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. she flips her hands over with her palms facing toward the sky. “tell him?”

“i can’t just do that!” this time, it’s your turn to look at her like she just told you she ran over a family of five with her chevy tahoe, and suo chuckles.

“and why not?” she flops back in her seat incredulously.

“i just told you, it’s scary!” you insist matter–of–factly. “you remember the last guy i was with? it lasted one month, and in that amount of time, i aged thirty years and had stress levels that would’ve gotten me sent to the emergency room.”

suo hums softly in surprise. you didn’t tell him about that. of course, he had suspected that someone had dragged you through the trenches prior to accepting him as your boyfriend, but he felt as though that was a topic that would be better left to your discretion. you would tell him if you wanted him to know, so he never questioned you.

“yeah, but suo is way better than him.” the third girl reminds you. “at least, i think so. i only met the guy like twice.”

“helpful.” the second girl remarks dryly.

“no, he seriously is so much better.” you insist. “he’s everything i could’ve asked for, but it’s just . . . exposing myself like that would mean he has everything he needs to hurt me, and if i end up flat on my ass again, i don’t know what i’m gonna do. and i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but . . . ugh, this is impossible.” you let your head loll back.

there’s a brief stretch of silence before the second girl speaks up again, and this time, her voice has flattened into a deadpan. “girl.” she blinks at you. “that’s the issue?”

clearly not anticipating that reaction, you stare blankly at her for a moment, searching for the right words. “i—what?” you bristle defensively. “what’s that supposed to mean? is that suddenly not a good reason to bare my heart and soul to this man?”

“no, it’s actually really not.” the third girl joins the second’s campaign. she scoots forward in her seat and folds her hands delicately on the table. “let’s reflect. this is suo we’re talking about. this is the same man who stayed the night and took care of you religiously when you were sick with food poisoning from your first date, the same man who gave you earrings similar to his for your birthday, and the same man who showed up at your house in the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on his back to accompany you when that storm knocked your power out—as a ‘friend.’”

“why did you use air quotes around the word ‘friend?’” the first girl narrows her eyes at the third.

“because he was playing the long game, okay? he was plotting. stay with me now.” she answers quickly, placing her hand on the first girl’s knee.

suo chuckles, raising his brows. he has to admit, your friends are impressive.

“so,” the third girl continues. “those are just a couple examples, but it’s crystal clear that suo is devoted. like he’s in this to stay.”

“or he’s some sort of supervillain.” the second girl interjects.

“don’t say that!” the third girl snaps, aghast. “no, yeah, you’re right. the ‘untouchable’ furin graduate who took a bat to the ribs just to keep her safe is definitely here to create lifelong trauma for her. anyway, as i was saying,” she turns back to you, “if that’s not enough, think about it this way. suo is really private, right?”

“right.” you nod.

“well, he was probably in a similar boat as you, then. i mean, you said that you were worried that you’d be giving him what he needs to hurt you, but the inverse is also true, and he already told you he loves you. he trusted you not to hurt him with that information, so you should be able to trust him not to do that to you, either.”

“that’s . . . wait,” the wheels rotate in your brain as you mull over her advice, and your hand drifts up to conceal your mouth in a moment of clarity. “oh, shit. no, wait, yeah, you may have a point. i didn’t think about it like that.”

“that’s what you have us for.” the third girl grins.

“so, does that mean you’re gonna tell him?” the second girl quirks a brow at you. “maybe? probably? hopefully?”

“uh . . . probably not . . .” you wince, only to jump when you’re promptly subjected to an onslaught of groans and complaints from your friends.

“dude, what the fuck?”

“i know, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“did you get nothing out of the conversation?”

“no, i did, i swear!” your desperate attempts to defend yourself against your friends are fractured by bouts of laughter. “trust me, i did.”

“so, what’s the problem now?” the second girl drags her palm exhaustedly down her cheek.

“the issue is that it’s still embarrassing!” you whine. “you literally said it yourself earlier. i’ve never been like this—ever! just thinking about saying it makes me wanna crawl in a hole. it makes me feel, like, exposed or some shit, i don’t know—quit looking at me like that! i don’t know how else to explain it!”

“don’t piss me off.”

“what?” your lips pop open in indignation. “but—”

suo’s slender fingers settle delicately over his lips as he chuckles to himself and steps completely behind the alley corner. his eyelids flutter low, gaze soft with contentment, as he listens to you scramble to defend yourself against your frustrated friends. it’s alright, they’ve done plenty. he can take it from here.

the conversation bounced around between the four of you has certainly altered the circumstances, providing you with the clarity needed to shed your reservations about setting yourself up for a potential heartbreak and unfurling the remaining layers of your defense to reveal the lingering issue still barring you from being honest about your feelings. at this point, it seems to no longer be about you being ill–equipped and underprepared to handle such a divulgence, which he could certainly accept. now, it appears to be about disentangling yourself from the binds of shame and embarrassment. about you requiring a little push in the right direction—well, less of a small nudge and more of a guiding hand that you would trust to unravel you down to the strings of your heart.

fortunately for you, there is no one more aware of what loose threads of yours to tug on in order to achieve his goal than suo himself.

maybe it’s unfair of him to change his mind and concoct an excuse to denounce the leniency and understanding that had been fueling his patience thus far. maybe it’s unfair of him to take the initiative to strip you of the protective cocoon he had previously been more than prepared to allow you to reside in. maybe it’s unfair of him to press you, to utilize his silver tongue and honeyed words to draw out your rawest and most vulnerable state.

but when the opportunity has practically tripped and fallen into his lap, how could he not? it isn’t as if it would be a detriment to you. he has never led you astray, and he certainly isn’t going to start now.

a venereal plan is already brewing in the back of his mind as he mulls over how to best extract such a confession from you. no matter what type of attitude you may acquire or how sturdy you believe your resistance to be, pleasure has never failed to whittle and melt you down into a pliant puddle that’s all soft edges and hazy, trusting eyes. an even trade—a release only he can provide for the secret you’re trying so hard to keep from him? this evening, perhaps, if he plays his cards right. you don’t have plans tomorrow, which means you certainly can’t be too angry if he keeps you awake into the darkest hours of the night.

he can practically feel the ghost of the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he keeps you pinned so that you can’t escape his ministrations, taste the salt brimming in your tears of frustration as you war between your pride and surrendering to the pleasure he plans to dangle in front of you, and hear your whines and moans as he keeps you just barely balanced on the precipice of release. he can already predict how you’ll label him as mean—manipulative, even. and maybe he is.

he’s only human, after all.

and what would humans be if not flawed? if not a bit cruel? if not a bit . . . selfish?

#windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x you #suo smut #suo x reader #suo hayato #windbreaker smut #suo hayato x reader #suo hayato smut #suo hayato x you

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iimplicitt · 2 months ago

Text

I WAS ALL OVER HER PT. 3 — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part three of three, link to part one and two here

summary: tensions are at an all time high between the mclaren drivers. y/n makes a choice. lando gets punched, both by reality and a friend.

warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though. lando, i apologise.

word count: 5.5k

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The Italian sun was warm and for the most part, all you could see was a sea of Ferrari red in the crowd. Not a surprise given it was Monza. The last twenty four hours had been a bit chaotic. Lando got on pole position, and despite everything you were still happy for him. That annoying part of yourself that was a touch too sentimental. Of course it wasn’t that simple, though. McLaren locked out the front row, Oscar starting on P2.

It was obvious to anyone he was hungry. For more, like any other driver but there was simply something different about the way Oscar had been carrying himself lately. After the complicated first win he had in Hungary, the world knew he still felt like he had to prove himself. That wins didn’t have to be handed to him.

You watched, nervous and hands sweating with the heavy headphones over your ears. The drivers had just finished their warm up lap, filing into position. Your eyes flicked between the two McLaren’s, a whole range of complex emotions eating you up inside over the pair of them.

Those red lights lit up one by one, then pouring out of the headphones the infamous words “It’s lights out and away we go!” Engines roared, your jaw fell open.

Oscar overtook Lando’s lead into turn one.

Charles had won, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy for him. A Ferrari driver on top of the podium in Monza was always a sight to behold.

Your breath was held tightly in your lungs however as you watched the Tifosi flood onto the track because there was a bit of commotion going on after the initial post-race interviews of the top three drivers. Oscar finished P2, Lando finished about six seconds behind him and landed P3.

The two McLaren drivers had come to an abrupt stop in the hallway that lead up to the cool down room, their shouting could be heard in the garage despite the roar of the crowd outside. Your stomach dropped, you could barely see them but that didn’t matter. Lando was the main one yelling, Oscar on the other hand had a calm rage about him, his voice sounding more cold than you had ever thought him capable of.

The team looked around awkwardly for a few moments before someone ran to go get Andrea Stella. Not a moment later the team principal threw off his headphones and ran to try and diffuse the situation.

You stood there against the wall, acutely aware of all the cameras that may be filming into the garage. Knowing Netflix was about to have a field day with this. The season had been so messy, and that wasn’t even in regard to your own issues with the drivers but the grid in total.

Messy. What a simple word for such fucked up situations.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A WEEK AGO, ZANDVOORT

He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Not as he had recklessly driven back to the hotel, not as you rode up the elevator, not as you two stumbled down the hallway to his hotel room. The moment it was in sight he had pushed you against the door, forgetting he was supposed to unlock it first but his mind was on other things.

The feeling of your mouth against his, your nails dragging against his scalp, the way your chest pushed against his in an attempt to get closer. He was consumed by you, not quite believing this was real. Years, he had dreamed about this moment for years. The longing he had felt about getting to touch you like this had driven him to the brink of insanity. He was terrified if he took his hands off you, you’d disappear. That he would wake up alone again in bed, hating what his life had come to despite the building success of his career.

Oscar pressed your body onto the door further, completely covering you with his own body, every nerve ending on fire with a desperate need to be close to you. His hips pressed into yours, a hand cupping your throat while the other tugged at your shirt in a fit of desperation to get at your skin.

Call it demented or sick, but at that moment he wanted to consume you. And he wanted you to do the same to him, to devour him in any way you so pleased.

His tongue danced against yours, teeth hitting and the sounds being made were vulgar but only sent him into a further frenzy. You were right here, giving in as well and he felt like his heart was about to explode.

“Bed,” you gasped out in between kisses barely finding a moment for air.

He didn’t take his mouth off you as he haphazardly dug in his pocket for his wallet, shoving it against the sensor and hoping it would pick up on the hotel key. Not a moment later there was a click and he pushed the door open, one arm wrapping around your waist as he backed you into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He picked you up, a surprised gasp leaving your lips as he did so. Instead of depositing you on the bed, he sat you down on the desk, arm swiping out and not caring what he knocked over.

His strong hands grabbed at your waist, yanking you to the edge of the bed and his erection pressed snuggly into you. He shuddered at the contact, feeling delirious.

Oscar needed to see you, all of you. Now. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and began to lift. “Arms up,” his voice was soft but commanding, and the blush dusting your face was something he wanted imprinted in his mind for forever.

You did as told, the fabric sliding up and over your head. The shirt fell to the floor soundlessly, his hands resting on your hips as he marvelled at you. Your bra was white cotton, no padding and due to the rain the fabric was practically see through. Hiding nothing and making your hardened nipples stand out. He groaned, not being able to help himself as he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to each one.

“Oscar,” your voice was shy, timid and shaky. He looked up at you, watching with apt attention how you bit your lip and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. “Listen, I know I might not look like a lot of the other-“

He cut you off, grabbing hold of your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. His expression was stern. “There’s no one else I want this with. Okay? No one, not even as I’m rotting in the earth will there ever be anyone else.” His calloused hands cupped your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped out of your pretty eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, taking in every minuscule detail that made up your face.

You tugged on his shirt this time and he quickly rid himself of it for you, the cool air of the hotel room hitting his skin. He watched as your eyes raked over him, every line of muscle that adorned his stomach, to his neck, then his face.

“This is wrong.” You said quietly, even as your fingers hooked into his belt loops and tugged him into you again.

“Probably,” he said in return, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders before undoing the clasp at the back, watching in adoration as it fell away from you. “But I’ve dreamt of this for years and it’s going to take a nuclear bomb to stop me from fucking you, Angel. I hope you know that.”

Your breath hitched and he blinked before you were pulling him down to meet your wanting mouth again, moaning into the kiss as he began to undo the button and zipper on your pants. The moment felt so surreal. If this did turn out to be a dream, when he woke up he was genuinely considering killing himself. He wouldn’t be able to live with the torment any longer.

He smacked your ass lightly and you yelped, getting the hint and lifting your hips for him so he could slide your pants off. Oscar fell to knees and he tugged off your shoes, then your pants, looking up at you like a deprived man seeking salvation at the altar. You chest was heaving and he watched in fascination the way your breast moved and your ribs expanded. Your pupils were blown wide and hungry.

He placed a hand on each of your knees, slowly pulling them apart as he kept eye contact. Oscar placed hot, open mouthed kisses as he danced up your thigh, closer and closer to where he knew you needed him most. The white cotton of your panties giving off a twisted sense of innocence that made him even more hard, if possible. The white fabric made it easy to tell how wet you were and he could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears knowing that it was all for him. Moving closer, he pressed a warm kiss on your navel, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume and he knew he would die a happy man after this.

Next, he placed a kiss right onto your clit, finding it blindly through your underwear.

You yelped at the contact, hips thrusting up into his face and he couldn’t help but smile. His grin surely wicked as he looked up at you through heavy lidded, lust filled eyes.

You swallowed roughly, “Oscar, please.”

He kissed you again, savouring the taste of you and how drenched your panties were, working you through the thin cotton as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Oh my god,” your voice was a whine, your nails digging into his scalp. The pain of it quickly fizzled into pleasure though as he moaned into you, mouth following along with your desperate thrusts.

“Please.” You panted, “I need you, Oscar.”

He pulled back, feeling hazy and in utter bliss. “How badly?”

“So fucking much.”

Oscar ripped your underwear off you, leaving red marks where the fabric had snagged against your skin. With one hand splaying against your stomach, he pushed you backward until your back hit the window, neither of you caring who saw. Fuck, you were stunning. Swollen and glistening for him, practically dripping out into his lap with how wet you were.

He could feel your heart beat as he got closer before looking up at you, watching to see your face when he finally tasted you. Lowering himself, he licked long and flat up your cunt, moaning along with you as you trembled violently, your hands digging into his hair to pull him closer.

One arm reached around your thigh, fingers dancing across your hip before he pulled the skin above your pussy taught, exposing you to him fully to get unobstructed access to your clit. With his other hand, he pushed your other knee up and out, wanting you as exposed as possible. He knew there was a mirror behind him, so before he dove back in like a man starved, his rough voice carried out around the room. “Look at yourself.”

You shook your head, clearly embarrassed. “Oscar—“

“If you stop or if you close your eyes, I’ll stop.”

You pouted, the sight devastatingly adorable and he wanted to bite at your lip but he had other things on his list first. He didn’t move until your eyes hesitantly moved to the mirror behind him, breath hitching at the sight of him kneeling between your thighs.

Oscar’s mouth latched onto your clit, sucking harshly but slowly, the paired strokes of his tongue deliberate, and without warrant a shout left your lips. You had smacked a hand over your mouth, but he quickly tugged your hand away, he wanted to hear you.

Hands returning back to his hair, he watched you as you watched yourself come undone against his mouth. Your jaw falling open as two of his thick fingers sunk into your pussy, instantly clenching around him. He must really have amazing self control because he felt like he could cum in his pants then and there.

“So fucking warm,” he said against you, lapping at your clit as your thighs trembled. “And tight, for me.” His fingers set an unrelenting pace, curling up in a come hither motion and he knew he was dragging the pads of his fingers against your g-spot with the way you were screaming his name.

“Oscar!” You threw your head back against the window, still obeying him and keeping your eyes on the mirror. Your hips rutting into his mouth and fingers, desperate for a release.

Your voice sounded like church bells to him and he added another finger, three digits fucking you at a relentless pace. He felt your stomach tighten, fingers clenching around him. You were breathless as you forced the words out, there was even some drool starting to leak from your lips. “I’m— I’m going—“

“Come for me, Angel. Give me all of it.” He didn’t stop, not even as liquid started to spurt out of your pussy, coating his lips and chin as he continued his relentless licking and sucking on your clit, not stopping the thrusting of his fingers and you screamed and clamped your thighs around his head, being sent into absolute overdrive as you twitched against him. Your orgasm was violent, and he wasn’t letting up.

“Oscar, oh my god.” Your voice was hoarse and rough, followed by another orgasm that completely shattered you as you convulsed against him. He was a moaning mess, pre-cum soaking through his boxers and trousers. You yanked his head back by his hair and he let go of your clit with a resounding pop.

“Greedy.” You teased through panting breaths, a delirious smile on your face and he couldn’t help but share it.

“You taste like heaven.” He leaned in again, gently licking a long stripe up your entrance, collecting whatever wasn’t on his face or on the floor. You shuddered against him as he placed a light kiss against your clit.

He watched as you stood up on trembling legs, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs as he stared up at you from where he was, still on his knees. Your fingers brushed his hair back from his eyes, taking in his face and swollen lips, but his brows started to furrow as your eyes began to water.

“What’s wrong?” He said quietly, pulling you to him so he was hugging you around your legs, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you.

Shaking your head, you wiped the tears away and smiled. “I’m happy. And I’m mad we waited so long.”

“Yeah,” Oscar said softly, giving you a warm smile as he slowly stood up, his fingers dragging up your body as he went. He cupped your throat with both hands as he got to his feet, pressing his thumbs up under your chin to tilt your face to him. He kissed you gently, yet there was still a rough desperation underlined in it. “It’s a good thing I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Your eyes glowed, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, turning you and backing you up slowly till the back of your knees hit the bed and he lightly shoved you onto the mattress. He watched you carefully as he began to undo his belt, watching as your eyes traced down his toned stomach, down his happy trail, and to the obvious bulge in his trousers.

“What do you have in mind?” Your voice was timid, but clearly excited as you then sucked in a sharp breath as he took off his trousers and boxers in one go, his cock twitching at the cool air in the room and the tip was glistening and red.

“Oh, Angel.” He walked forward, slowly climbing over you and parted your thighs with his knee. He lowered his face, nipping at your neck gently before his hot breath danced over your ear. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He took hold of himself, dragging the tip up and down your entrance and he just about came undone there and then. This had to last, he needed it to last.

Oscar’s eyes locked onto yours before he sunk in, burying himself to the hilt and a loud groan left him while you moaned, throwing your head back against the sheets. You were devine. Warm, wet, already spasming around him. He was losing his hold on his sanity as he slowly pulled back out, then slammed back into you with a brutal thrust.

“I hate that he got to fucking touch you.” The words had slipped out before he realised what he had said. But he meant every syllable.

“I know,” you gasped out, nails dragging against his back, surely leaving red streak marks but he didn’t care.

Oscar had driven himself mad knowing that Lando got to see you like this. Got to feel what it was like to have you wrapped around his cock. Haunted by the thought of his teammate making you cum. Horrified by the thought of you screaming Lando’s name.

He didn’t realise it, but a hand had wrapped around your throat, choking you as he fucked you with next to no gentleness. Bottoming out each time, his other hand taking hold of one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, needing to go deeper.

You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he hit your cervix over and over again.

“I thought of you every time he touched me,” the cruel admission left your lips. Both of you were horrible, awful people. Yet neither seemed to care as your teeth sunk into his forearm that was next to your head, tears slipping out of your eyes as you screamed. His pace was brutal, unrelentless. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room and an animalistic groan left him and you clenched around his cock.

Oscar turned you both so you were facing the mirror, his hand that was choking you tilting your head back so you could watch him fuck you upside down. “I’ve gotten myself off every week to thought of fucking you like this. Anywhere. Of bending you over the sink. Fucking you in the shower. In my driver’s room before a race. I’d fuck you in front of the whole paddock if I could.”

You choked out a cry, blood rushing to your head from the lack of oxygen. He knew you liked the filth he was muttering due how hard you were clenching around him, your hips going up to meet his thrusts.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Coming around my cock as everyone watched. Knowing Lando would be watching as I made a mess of you.”

“I’m going to come,” you cried, coughing violently afterward. He may have gotten ahead of himself as he pulled his hand away, noticing a red hand mark on your throat. But the sight only spurred him on further, his hand dancing between your bodies before finding your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

He felt your orgasm before he heard you. Your cunt clamped down onto his cock, screaming his name as you convulsed. God, you were ethereal.

His thrusts became sloppy and unorganised, one hand holding your hip and yanking you down onto him as the other continued its agonising circled on your clit.

Oscar cried out your name as he came, yanking you all the way down on his cock as his cum spilled hotly into you, filling you up in such a primal way it made another wave of pleasure shoot through him.

He collapsed on top of you, both your bodies sweaty and he began peppering kisses across your face. Kissing your tears away and muttering mine between each.

Oscar was still buried deep inside you, holding his release in and he never wanted to move. Your chest heaved, slowly coming down from your high. He felt your arms move before your hands gently took hold of his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours.

Messy trails of mascara ran down your cheeks, painting a beautiful picture of ruin in front of him. If his muscles weren’t so tired, he would’ve reached for his phone to take a picture.

“Oscar,” your voice was a whisper.

He hummed, lifting a hand up to gently tug at your bottom lip with his thumb. You seemed hesitant, searching his gaze for something. But he didn’t need to be given any hints.

“I love you,” he said the words against your lips. He said them again against your forehead. Again as he kissed each of your eye lids. Your nose.

You started to cry again, a grin stretching at your lips as you spoke the words that sealed his fate, “I love you.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

MONZA

You shut the door softly behind you, looking at his back as he leaned over to untie his shoes.

Clearing your throat, Lando sat up and turned, raising a brow at you. “Yeah?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you considered how there was no hello. No smile, though you weren’t expecting much of one. Sure, he scored a podium, but it wasn’t enough.

You stood there and stared at him for a moment. Genuinely wondering why he had even asked you out in the first place. What was the point? Then again, you shouldn’t have said yes in the first place.

Sighing, you brought out your keys and took off the one he gave you to his flat in Monaco.

His eyes widened, realising quickly what was happening and he stood up, crossing the room and taking hold of your hands to halt the finality of your actions. “Hey, what’s going on?” Lando cupped your chin, bringing your eyes up to his. “Talk to me, baby.”

Despite everything, you still felt guilty. Your mind couldn’t help but wander over all of his sweet moments with you. Because he could be, he could be really fucking sweet. Romantic even. But he was also really fucking awful sometimes. Mean, even.

Your brows furrowed, taking hold of his wrist. “We both know I’m not what you want.” You looked at his eyes, how stunningly green they were and curious how he was able to look at you in such adoration sometimes. “And we both know I know about the other girls.”

Lando clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering shut as the words were finally out. Sure, he may actually want you. He just didn’t only want you. Besides, you knew you were in no place to pass judgement anymore. With your other hand, you brushed a thumb over his cheek bone, his eyes then opening. Looking at you in confusion, not understanding why you weren’t angry. Not understanding why you were being so… understanding.

With a small sigh, you kissed him softly on the cheek before dropping his key into his hands. He didn’t stop looking at you, and maybe you were reading too much into it, but he nearly looked sad.

“Bye, Lando.”

And you left.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

AZERBAIJAN, BAKU

The thick rug that ran down the middle of the hallway muted your footsteps as you walked. You had flown home during the small break between the last race and the one that’s tomorrow. You hadn’t been able to see Oscar, though you had texted a few times.

You came to a stop outside of his door, you hadn’t told him when you were coming back. He understood you needed a break.

Stealing your breath, you knocked on the door once. The sharp sound echoing down the long hallway. Muffled sounds came from the other side of the door before it opened, Oscar blinking at you in surprise before he grinned at you.

He was so effortlessly handsome, wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his muscles perfectly and a pair of grey sweats. You licked your lips, mouth feeling dry and looked down at your shoes.

“Angel?”

“I broke up with Lando.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard him step forward, his warm and rough hands holding your face, tilting your face up to his. The look on his face, it was hard to put distinct words to it but the look of hope in his eyes made your knees weak.

“What?”

“I broke up with him.” Your breathing was uneven, and despite everything, doubts still lingered in your brain. “And you’re under no obligation to—“

Oscar pulled you to him, kissing you with such urgency your head spun.

You smiled into his mouth, “I’m all yours.”

He picked you up, looking at you with heaven in his eyes, carrying you into the room and shutting the door behind him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando watched as champagne sprayed out and over the podium, watching Oscar laugh and smile as he got drenched with the Australian flag glowing above the top step. Despite his annoyance, he couldn’t hate him. His teammate was a good driver and a good person.

All of Lando’s karma was finally catching up to him, but he clapped anyway. Smiled for photos. Patted Oscar on the shoulder in congratulations, who in turn looked at him sceptically before eventually giving him a small smile.

A tiny truce.

After the crowd had died down, Lando had grappled with his consciousness for a while before forcing himself to go to Oscar’s room. He could at least try to make some sort of amends. They were going to be teammates for a while; they might as well try and get along. Water under the bridge.

He knocked on the door, he didn’t hear a response but slight muffled shuffling. He rolled his eyes, they needed to get this conversation out of the way or else Lando wasn’t sure he’d pluck up the courage again. Plus, he was sure Oscar was in a good mood after a win.

Testing the handle, the door clicked and he pushed it open, mouth opening to say something when he suddenly froze at the sight before him.

You were sitting up on the dresser, Oscar standing between your legs and his hands under your shirt, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your desperation was palpable, hands buried in the Aussie’s hair and moaning into his mouth.

Lando blinked a few times, his mouth dry and feeling as if he’d vomit. Quickly and quietly, he shut the door and started to walk away. His pace brisk, trying not to cause a scene and run.

He knew he was in absolutely no position to feel upset over this, but he couldn’t help it. He did. He knew he had fucked up. Fucked up a wonderful opportunity you had given him. You were perfect in every sense of the word, but he had been too caught up in his ego to give a shit if he fumbled one of the best things life had tried to offer him. Right after you left his hotel room in Monza, he sat there staring at the key he had given you for a pathetically long time as a cold wave of reality slammed into him.

Not sure why, but his feet brought him to Red Bull’s section of the paddock, eyes searching desperately for Max. He was always someone he could talk to, even in the worst circumstances the Dutch man somehow always knew what to say.

After a few frantic minutes of searching, he finally found Max and called out to him. His friend turned, raising a brow at the look on Lando’s face. He probably looked insane. Max crossed his arms as he approached, not looking all too thrilled at seeing him. Which wasn’t a surprise. The entire grid wasn’t a fan of his behaviour in regards to women, Max especially given everything that had happened with Kelly and Daniil.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Max eyed him over for a moment before nodding, guiding him back to his room. He sat on the edge of the counter, not saying anything but looked at Lando expectantly.

Lando bit the side of his cheek, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I fucked up.”

Max let out a long breath through his nose, his eye brows rising. “You’re realising this now?”

Sighing, Lando considered how to move forward. “Look I know it was dumb but can you really blame—Fuck!” His eyes began to water and his hand went up to cover his now bleeding nose. Staring at his friend in bewilderment as his head began to pound with pain.

Max had just punched him.

“You are such a fucking dumbass, Lando.” Max was practically yelling at him, not caring that the sound hurt the Brit’s head.

“I just walked in on her and Oscar practically fucking! They’ve probably been doing it behind my back all this time, anyway—“

Max looked like he wanted to deck him again. “Get over yourself! How does that even begin to justify the countless women you were screwing around with behind her back all these months.” Lando went to open his mouth but Max held up his hand. “I have never in all my years even considered doing that to someone, let alone Kelly.”

Lando grew quiet, slumping against the wall, not caring that blood was dripping down his face and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes till stars appeared. “I know, I fucked up,” his voice cracked as he spoke. “I can’t justify it. And I can’t explain it, but I really feel like I’ve had a wake up call, mate.” He laughed ruefully, looking up at the ceiling. “She’s so perfect and I just— I fucked her over.”

Max considered his friend for a long moment. He hated him for what he did to you, but he still cared about him. “I’m not saying you can fix this, nor do I think there is anything to even fix. But you need to apologise to her. But I need you to understand this,” he stepped towards Lando, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t need to forgive you. I don’t even think she should. But she deserves a proper apology from you. Get down on your knees and cry for all I care.” With one last pointed look, Max walked over to his door and gestured an arm out. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

That night at the club the team had picked to celebrate Oscar’s win, Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you. He held his drink, still full and ice long ago melted as he watched you dance. The multicolour lights painting you in a beautiful image.

He waved off multiple girls who approached, not even an inkling of interest igniting in his chest. His heart for some reason set on torturing himself as he watching how Oscar held onto you possessively, never letting you go and with stars in his eyes.

He had known the whole time Oscar was in love with you, and it gave him a screwed up thrill to know you were with him instead. He didn’t know what was wrong with him sometimes, but he regretted everything. Not like it mattered. You looked properly happy for once and Lando realised you had never looked at him that way.

Another girl came up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder and smiling seductively.

All he could see was you, though. Looking at him one last time before kissing him on the cheek and leaving. Shrugging the girl off, he called it an early night and left.

Despite everything, how he treated you, Lando came to a crushing realisation and he felt his lungs stop working.

He was in love with you.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,436,097 others

landonorris smile. 🏆

*tap to load more comments*

userone: LESGOOO

usertwo: singapore looks good on you!

userthree: anyone find it odd how unhappy he’s looked lately? even when he wins

userfour: anyone see those leaked photos of oscar and lando’s ex?

| userfive: YESS they were making out in front of some pub in london

| usersix: WILLDDDD

youruser: congratulations lando 🥳

❤️ by author

landonorris: thank you, love ❤️

| userseven: i’m so lost 😭

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merakiui · 2 months ago

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Adding onto step bro Skully (✦ ‿ ✦) imagine step bro needing to talk himself in and out of peeking into the wash room while she's bathing. That would be creepy right??? B-but seeing the outline of your naked form would be really nice. Putting a body image into that lingerie would quell just enough...surely. And finally he sneaks a peek, just opening the door enough to see in without you noticing too much, to see you in the submerged in the bath chest barely covered and legs propped upwards out of the bath only bubbles covering part of your body while your head is laid back clearly enjoying your time.

WAAA YES!!! >w< he thinks it’s such a delightful sight. The bubbles allow his very vivid imagination to fill in the blanks, providing him with all kinds of lewd thoughts. You look so peaceful relaxing in the warm bath. If only he could be there in the bath with you… aaa,,, but maybe that’s too weird. You’re both grown and he’s way too tall. >_< he’d take up too much space with his awkward, lanky limbs. But it’d be so romantic to bathe together, to take turns washing the other, to enjoy floral scented baths, to have you lean against his chest and fall asleep right there, comforted in his embrace!!!! AAAAA OTL he has to turn away from the door before he accidentally falls in or makes any sounds from the amount of swooning he’s doing. ;;;

Skully doesn’t intend to become a thief, but he can’t help swiping some of your panties for himself. You’ll never notice they’re gone. He just,,, needs them. He likes how soft they are wrapped around his dick; he likes thinking about how these same panties definitely touched that soft pussy of yours…… in a way, isn’t this just indirect sex?!?! \(//∇//)\ sometimes he’ll spray your perfume on his sheets or pillows just to fall asleep in your pretty smell, imagining you spread out on his bed, inviting him to join you…. it’s a dream that’s so delightfully intimate that he wakes with an aching hard-on. :( the sad reality is that it’s only just a dream.

Sometimes he creeps into your room just to watch you sleep. Maybe he even sleeps under your bed or in the closet… tucking himself away so that when morning comes he can watch you do your daily routine. He can watch you dress yourself, do your makeup, bend over to pick up dirty laundry……… he knows it’s poor manners and he knows you’ll think he’s a gross, pathetic creep, but sometimes he gets hard watching you and one time it was so bad he just had to slowly pump himself to the sight of you going through pretty outfits for a night out with friends. The lacy panties, the lewd bras, the dresses and skirts, the cute tops… you’re so pretty,,, such a beautiful darling. His dear stepsister… he could admire you forever, burn this image into his brain and let it remain there for all of eternity.

Skully wants nothing more than to plaster you to the bed and fuck into you slow and sweet, watching your tits jiggle with every thrust, watching your hazy expression twist with pleasure, listening to the soft gasps that spill from parted lips!!! He has to bite down hard on his lip so you won’t hear his whimper when he cums into an old pair of panties he found lying haphazardly in the back of your closet.

Or when the two of you watch movies together!! These are the moments Skully looks forward to the most. Movie nights with you are special, sacred times. You bond over horror films and, of course, the nightly rewatch of his favorite: The Nightmare Before Christmas. But sometimes you’ll watch a movie and a sex scene will come on, and he’s so incredibly awkward throughout the entire thing. He keeps stealing glances at you, wondering what you’re thinking about. If he lets his mind wander, it’s you he sees on the screen. He imagines himself in those positions with you: pressing you against a window, bending you over a surface, lying back and watching you lower yourself onto his dick…… he fidgets with the pillow placed over his lap. He’d die if you saw his erection straining against his trousers. >_<

But sometimes he just wants to take you to dinner and court you properly like a gentleman from Victorian times. He probably writes lots of poetry about you. You’re his favorite thing next to Jack Skellington and everything NBC. He idolizes you. <3

#twisted chit chat #n/sfw #tw: stepcest

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rafeshow · 4 months ago

Note

where a fan made an 10 minute video with a compilation of hasan and reader being in love.

just for clicks

hasanabi x fem!streamer!reader

tags : hasan being a bit of an ass, tension, lingering touches, angst, use of y/n (scary ik), this is a blurb (I can’t make more parts if ppl want it), basically just angst, nothing really from the readers pov

a/n : i’m pretty sure you were looking for a more sappy direction w this request, but i rlly couldn’t help myself and i made it angsty 😭. also this is my first fanfic on this acc so pls be nice to me 🙏 im not good w english

It was a regular streaming day for Hasan, for the most part. His typical bogging on about politics, random internet drama, and his frequent frustration at chat. Behind all that though, his mind was a fog. You; another streamer, having been friends with Austin, being introduced to the Fear& group, and all but weaseling your way into being a staple member of the friend group, was all that Hasan could think about. Austin had tried to set the two of you up when you were first introduced to the friend group, but you never ended up going on any serious or planned romantic ventures, the two of yous schedules preventing from such.

That’s not to say you weren’t interested in eachother, it was quite the opposite actually. It was unspoken between the two of you, literally. Minus talking on the podcast or short interactions in videos, you had never spoken outside of ‘work’. That didnt stop the tension from growing though.

It started as accidental; Hasan gently grazing the back of your neck when walking behind your chair during filming in the cramped podcast room, his warm fingers barely lingering for a second on your bare neck, followed by rushed apology. Then it was you; lightly holding his waist as you attempted to squeeze behind him during a cooking stream, still unable to get past without his backside brushing against your front to a degree. And those two accidental touches wouldn’t have been a problem if they had just stayed those two accidental touches. The two of you managed to bump into eachother enough times that it had you each questioning if the other person was doing it on purpose.

Hasan was the first to break the ‘accidental’ rule, having grabbed your waist firmly and practically picking you up off the ground to move you on one occasion. You followed suit with the rule breaking, leaning across him to grab something from QT while filming the podcast and intentionally resting stretched for a moment; your top half shelved atop his forearm as it laid flat on the table.

The two of you refused to do anything about it though, and it was driving you both mad. Each touch was getting more daring then the last, and it was a game of who was going to break first. You were mad because you thought he was intentionally toying with you; knowing it drove you mad whilst not being interested himself. Just doing it to mess with you. Hasan on the other hand was just generally pissed you hadn’t done anything yet, which was ironic considering he didn’t have the gall to do anything himself either.

It was all that Hasan had been thinking of that day, and he questioned that if his facecam didn’t cut off at the top of his head that chat would be able to see the steam emanating from it. He was beyond frustrated, but he found it easy to play off; opting to take his anger out on the idiots who left comments on his livestream.

The two of you hadn’t thought about what your predicament looked like from an outsiders perspective though, not until now atleast.

Hasan was watching some political interview; mostly letting it play while opening links from chat in other tabs. As he opened one in particular, his heart stopped. He quickly clicked back to the tab, his brows taught together as he re-read the title.

“No fucking shot.” He forcibly laughed out, not only in disbelief himself but also trying to play his reaction down a bit for the stream. It was a compilation video, titled “y/n and hasan being down bad for 7 minutes”.

He was shocked he hadn’t thought about it, honestly. He was so concerned with keeping his feelings down while streaming by himself that he hadn’t even considered how he looked when he was actually with you. He clicked play without a second thought, his brain still registering the situation at hand. He had to stop himself from letting a grin slip out.

He watched the whole video without saying anything, which was alarming for chat and him. He was just entranced at how painfully obvious the two of you made it. The way he stared at you as you spoke to someone else. The way you never looked at him when he spoke to anybody. The way he stared at your hands as you fidgeted with a mic cord. The now obvious touches. He was baffled.

But his emotions quickly flipped back to his previous frustration. All that has been going on and you still hadn’t done anything? The two of you still hadn’t even talked? You had interacted this way long enough for somebody to make a 7 minute long compilation and the two of you still hadn’t done anything? He turned to chat, decided to take it out by being defensive.

“It’s actually hilarious the shit you idiots come up with. You do realize we’ve never talked right? The little shit we’ve said on camera is all we’ve ever said to eachother. Ever. I don’t even know her actual name. I don’t even have her in my contacts. I’ve never even thought about her in that way. You guys are so apt on shipping every male and female to ever interact together, it’s disgusting. You guys are fucking weird.” He took a beat, knowing the shit he was saying was doing anything but help his case, and knowing the hole he was digging for himself was just getting deeper. The few excuses he could come up with were borderline pathetic and certainly laughable. He just hoped he said his words fast enough that none of it stuck, even though he could practically feel the clips getting posted to twitter. In a last stitch effort to save himself, he blurted out;

“And anything she’s ever done around me is just for fucking clicks anyway.” He closed his mouth immediately after saying it. Hasan knew how much of a low blow that was, he knew how much he defended other streamers in the space for the same shit, and he couldn’t believe he’d just let that out about you of all people. He knew then in that moment that he’d lost all chances of anything with you, and he couldn’t grasp the fact that he was able to royally fuck himself over in a matter of seconds. He sat there silent, grumbling something else about chat being stupid, and then he went back to his political video.

He tried to keep a stone face, but he couldn’t help as his eyes caught chat every few minutes, mixes of shock and anger still bubbling between all of them. Hasan tried to redeem himself as much as he could; making some jokes and throwing some insults at whatever video he was watching. The main mass of the shocked comments eventually fizzled away, but he ultimately ended up wrapping up stream after another 30ish minutes. All he could do now was watch as everything unfolded before him.

#.. 𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 #hasanabi #hasan x reader #hasanabi x reader #fear&#fear& podcast #twitch streamer #twitch streamer fanfic

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holybibly · 7 months ago

Note

i’m literally so obsessed with your work 😭

could you possibly do some sort of shiburi/toy play with san?

i would literally die if you did 😩

Bunnies, I haven't been as active lately as I'd like to be, but today I'm here and Unholy Hours are back on the air.

Hmm, I haven't tried shibari yet, but San is too attractive for me to give up the idea.

"Tied up like that, you look so divine. I can't take my eyes off you, my angel; the way the ropes leave marks on your delicate skin is driving me insane." San practically purrs into your neck before he pulls away from you. No matter how tempting you look at the moment, he is going to have to be patient. He has the whole of the night in front of him, and you are completely in his power.

The soft rope whispers and snakes across your bare skin, hot as sin, each intricate loop pressing tightly against your body, leaving exquisite marks. Through the soft lace of your blindfold, you couldn't see the pattern that San was creating today, but you could imagine each intricate knot being wrapped around your body, all of them evenly spaced and perfectly tied.

In San's eyes, you were nothing less than a work of art.

San left your hands free, but you didn't dare move them. You knew that if you started to squirm or tried to rub your throbbing clit, the slow glide of the rope over your skin would stop immediately. San didn't like it when his princess was disobedient, especially when he was making her beautiful for himself. Of all the dolls he so desperately wanted to play with, you were the most beautiful.

You could feel the rope sliding down just below your chest and then tightening around your rib cage. The slight tension of the rope around you makes your breathing harder and more labored, and heat begins to build in your lower abdomen as you feel the rope digging into your skin. It starts to get wet between the folds of your pussy and you know that soon you are going to start dripping.

The tension of the ropes is perfect; there is nothing to put you in any danger. San always knew how to treat you properly.

"Black is your color, my angel." San purred again, but this time his voice was a little more husky and sultry, like that of a big, contented cat. "But you already had that knowledge, didn't you?"

"Yes, I know that, Daddy."

"This is my angel, all mine." He circles around you like a predator on the prowl.

You smile shyly at his praise as he gently runs his fingers over your round, flushed cheek and then leans down to give you a kiss. You lift your face to meet San's soft lips halfway.

You can hardly remember how it all started. You just woke up one day with the thought that you had to have him, even if you had to hide all the delicious marks on your body that San kindly left on your skin after each 'game'. It's so stupid, such a terrible cliché, like in the most naive of romantic films: a rich, gloomy boy and an innocent nerd who was supposed to be his tutor, but instead San ended up being the one who taught you.

And if San wanted to get you tied up and exposed in the most vulgar of ways tonight, you'd obey whatever he wanted. He would be able to throw you down on the floor and fuck you into the parquet, and you would be grateful to him for it.

San pulls away from your lips, leaving you wanting more, and you lean forward as if in pursuit of his love. He just chuckles at you and holds your cheeks as he straightens up. His feline eyes are soft, but they hide a dark desire.

"You're so in need of me, angel." He coos in a loving way. "Do you want my lips, my fingers, or my cock so badly, little princess?" San muses and uses his thumb to smear some saliva over your plump lower lip. He lifts your head up again, and you give him a kiss on the thumb.

"I'll take anything you give me, Daddy." You whimper softly.

"Such a good girl." San senses how much you need to be touched, worshipped, and played with, and he is more than happy to satisfy your needs.

His warm hands begin to slide down the length of your body. San runs his fingers along the textured rope, just feeling and enjoying the sensations, gently rubbing against your skin under the tight tangle of ropes, leaving ghostly warm marks where they touch your skin.

Your skin tingles where the hot texture snakes into a pattern, and you feel another loop begin to slide across your body. You still can't make out what kind of pattern San is tying around you, but you can tell he's creating something like a corset. Each loop of rope lies directly under the previous one, with the knots neatly tied in the center of your torso. Each knot is more intricate than the one before it, and it probably frames your body in the most beautiful way possible.

There will be a brief tug on the rope before the pressure is released and the next knot is tied around you.

San's hot breath kisses the skin of your bare shoulder, and you moan softly, rubbing your thighs lightly against each other in the hope that it will ease your excitement.

"You are so beautiful, my angel." He whispers in your ear in a low voice. "I love seeing you like this—all bound up and just for me. You were made for this—to be adorned and decorated by my hands. You are my very own little masterpiece, Princess."

The praise licks over your body like fire and pools in a liquid, viscous warmth between your thighs. You have the feeling you're even wetter, if that's even possible. Your breathing is getting harder; the thought of how beautiful you look to San turns you on, and perhaps it might not last as long as you'd like, but right now you're perfect for him, and that's all that matters. These thoughts cause you to rub your thighs against each other again, desperate for any kind of friction that might help you ease the aching excitement in your cunt.

San digs his hands into the soft flesh of your thighs and spreads them apart with a growl. He doesn't want you to cum too soon; you've just started playing. His strong, slightly rough hands slide over your thick thighs and then brush lightly against the wet, slippery folds of your pussy, allowing you to enjoy some pressure where you need it so much, your hips rocking as you ride his palm. Excitement drips from your hole like a waterfall and spreads over San's palm.

You whine pitifully as his hand leaves you and San goes back to tying knots on your body, and you stay like that—horny to the max and in need of some relief.

"Shhh, angel, it's okay. You are a good little princess, and Daddy will give you anything you want. Now sit still and let me make you beautiful. Let me make you so perfect for me, my angel."

You obediently freeze in place, the world around you blurring as you melt under his praise. San's voice is so deep and calm, but you hear those hot, dark notes in it that tell you he is just as horny as you are. In his arms, you always feel like sex personified, as San does whatever he wants to your body, molding it to suit his own desires and kinks.

You feel the last loop around your waist before the remaining rope runs down your soft belly, the slightly rough texture rubbing nicely against your skin. The tightness of the rope prevents you from thinking; all thoughts fade as you let the fuzzy sensation in your stomach from being bound spread through your mind. Your fall into subspace is slow and gradual, and your breathing is deepening as if you were on the verge of sleep. San is skilled at luring you deeper and deeper into a web of lust and depravity.

San's hot hands squeeze your thigh, lightly scratching it with his nails before he wraps the rope around it. It's so hard for you to maintain any kind of coherence, so far down, especially when you hear the quiet whisper of a hoarse, purring voice: "my beautiful angel" and "sugar bunny" on your thighs, along with wet kisses and long, slow licks, which literally make your pussy literally dripping with arousal.

San pulls another length of rope through the center of your makeshift corset. You're not quite sure what to expect from him when he slips the loose end of the rope between your legs as they are spread apart. He moves around you and kneels down behind you, pressing his hot body against your back. San was wearing nothing but a pair of ripped black jeans and a leather belt with a heavy metal buckle. He preferred to feel the coolness of the room against his skin, and he refused to wear a shirt or t-shirt. It's wonderful to feel the warmth of his smooth, golden skin and the pulsing muscles that stretch and contract as he moves. His hard, massive cock presses against the softness of your plump ass, rubbing lightly against you, trying to ease the painful arousal. You can't bear to look at him with the lace blindfold that is tightly fastened over your eyes, but it makes you feel good to know you've had such an effect on him.

San stretches the rope between your beras, and you shiver a little as the rough texture of it slides between your labia. His fingers part your wet folds so he can place the rope where he wants it. San gently pulls the rope upwards, watching as the knot rubs directly against your clit, causing a burst of stars to explode from behind your closed eyelids as you finally get the stimulation that you so desperately need.

As San attaches the end of the rope to the back of your exquisitely woven corset, taking his time tightening it to tease you while keeping you safe, the intricate knot continues to rub against your swollen clit in the most delicious way.

He finally finishes tying you up and makes sure all the loose ends are securely tied to the back of the corset. San rises to his feet again, and you feel a chill run down your spine as his hot body moves away from you. He walks around you in a circle, like a graceful cat of prey, admiring the work he has done.

"Do you have any idea how bloody perfect you look, my angel? A perfect little toy for me to play with. I want you to see yourself, Princess." San helps you to your feet and guides you closer to the mirror. Then, in one swift motion, he unties the lace blindfold over your eyes, allowing you to see how beautiful you are right now.

As soon as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. You looked much more beautiful than you could have imagined, the black silk rope wrapping around your body like a smooth snake, contrasting perfectly with the soft pale tone of your skin and leaving bright scarlet marks on the most sensitive and delicate areas.

You were right—the pattern San had created on your body did indeed resemble a corset—the rope, tied in exquisite loops, ran from your chest to your waist. The tightness of the knit made your breasts look astonishingly voluptuous and lifted them up in the most seductive way possible. The rope goes down to make it look like you're wearing sexy lingerie, wrapping around your hips like a garter belt. Another piece of rope is placed between the labia of your pussy. The tight knot of the rope presses perfectly against your clitor and stimulates it with your slightest movement.

You look and feel absolutely beautiful and safe with the black silk rope tied around you and the warmth of San's large body behind you. His handsome, sculpted face is rubbing on your shoulders and neck like a contented cat, and he is purring admiringly in your ear. You were truly his perfect little plaything—the sweet plaything of a big, feline predator.

San's hands trace the intricate pattern of the rope, enjoying how it feels to wrap around your body, sometimes gently squeezing your sides.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever owned, my little angel. You look like a beautiful fallen angel, but that won't stop me from destroying you." San whispers in your ear like velvet. You turn your head to look at San and fall into the dark, magnetic trap of his eyes in an instant. Never before in your life have you seen someone who looked so much like a real cat in the form of a human.

Everything about him—from his mesmerizingly sharp eyes, high cheekbones, and chiselled jawline to his purring voice, sensual personality, and elegant movements—was the embodiment of a little predator. And you—you were his little mouse, the one he could play with whenever he felt like it.

San grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head back towards the mirror. With his other hand, he pulled on the rope between your wet folds, the tight knot rubbing against your swollen clit. You almost choked at the sudden pull of the rope as its thick texture slid over your sensitive cunt.

San moves away from you and sits down on the bed in an elegant manner, leaving you standing alone in front of the mirror. At the moment you are so confused that you don't understand at all why he has left you standing there - tied up and excited. You look over your shoulder and see San sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, stroking his thick, hard cock lazily as he watches you. He enjoys the way your body looks wrapped in his ropey silk masterpiece.

You moaned loudly, you were so excited, you want to cum right now, and San's hot, dark eyes sliding over your skin didn't make it any easier. You knew that you weren't allowed to use your hands to ease the tension between your thighs until San gave you permission to do so.

A seductive smile spreads across San's soft, plump lips as he watches you from where he sits on the bed. He slows the movement of his hand on his cock, running the pad of his thumb over the wet head. His eyes roll back in his head, and his mouth opens in a soft, sweet moan.

He nods gently in the direction of the mirror behind you, indicating that you should turn to face the mirror once more. You obediently follow his silent instructions and turn to face your reflection. You look at yourself once more and feel your pussy throbbing with desire. It only seems to increase the intensity of the stimulation as the juices flowing from you are absorbed by the rope stretched between your labia.

You feel so empty and so desperate to want San to use you, for him to sit you on his cock, to pull the ropes around your body as he fucks you deep and slow. From these thoughts, your hands begin to slide down your thighs in an unconscious way, and even this light touch makes you let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Don't you dare touch what is mine." San hisses. "If my little rope bunny wants to come, it'll be from the rope between those thick, juicy thighs or nothing at all."

You're moaning at his words, both enjoying his praise and completely disappointed that he didn't let you touch yourself. But you know San better than anyone else, and you are not going to try to awaken his dark side. You begin to squeeze your thighs together, and thick muscles tense with the effort, causing the rope to stretch tightly between the soft folds of your wet cunt. Your hips begin to rock seductively, the tight knot of rope clinging deliciously to your clit with each successive movement of your hips. Completely overwhelmed by the sensation, you throw your head back in ecstasy and let out loud and long moans. You can feel the viscosity of the moisture starting to flow out of your hole.

"Look at yourself in the mirror, angel, as you try to cum. Don't you want to see the rope sliding down your sweet little cunt while you are desperately humping it like a needy little whore?"

San is absolutely right—you do look like one. On the silver surface of the mirror, your reflection is completely depraved. Your hair is dishevelled, and your eyes are clouded with lust. Your skin is red from the tension of the ropes that are tied around your body, and it glistens with sweat. All in all, it can feel as if you've been fucked for hours on end, but San hasn't even touched you the way you'd like him to.

You begin to rub harder and harder against the rope between your legs, your face contorting in pleasure every time the knot of the rope presses against your clit, the rough texture sliding over your sensitive folds. A particularly strong movement and a tight squeeze on your thighs brings you to your climax.

"Oh God, San…" You moan loudly as you literally fall forward onto the mirror, your hands shooting up into the air as you grab hold of the massive frame to keep yourself on your feet as your whole body shakes with orgasm. Your juices flow copiously down your thighs and drip onto the floor, some being absorbed by the rope still pressed tightly against your pussy.

You barely have time to catch your breath before you are pushed forward by San's rough touch, causing you to literally press your chest against the mirror. The coldness of the reflective surface on your nipples makes them harden in an instant, making them more sensitive to any kind of touch.

"My pretty Angel..." San's voice is silky as he whispers into your ear when he presses his naked chest against your back, trapping you between the mirror and his hot body. "It was so hard for me to stop myself from cum while I was watching you enjoy yourself, but there is a better place for my load of sperm, isn't there, angel?" San emphasises his words by stimulating your clit, still throbbing from the previous orgasm, with a sharp tug on the rope between your labia. You let out a loud cry and squeezed your fingers together on the heavy frame of the mirror until your hands were white.

His tongue begins to slide slowly down the length of your neck, pressing lightly on your pulse point, which is why he can feel how fast your heart is beating at the moment. San leaves hot, wet kisses on your skin, gradually turning into dark hickeys as he continues to stimulate your pussy with a rope, sometimes pulling hard, then releasing. You feel San rubbing his big, thick dick against your buttocks, smearing pre-cum all over the tender, plump flesh, and you want to get down on your knees in front of him and lick that bittersweet wetness off his hard length. You want to hear him moan, and you want to enjoy his beautiful face as it is contorted with pleasure.

But right now you're desperate for him to fill that void inside you, and the thought of him stretching you and stuffing you with his thick cock until you can see the bulge of his length against your belly makes your pussy throb and contract, spouting fluid. The textured knot of the rope continues to press against your kitor every time San pulls on the rope, but even this delicious sensation is not enough to satisfy you. You need him to fuck you so hard. Fiercely.

You're on the verge of another orgasm when San pulls back and unties the rope from your corset. He presses you harder against the mirror with his body, biting the skin on the back of your neck, and you feel the swollen head of his dick slide between your wet folds until it is pressed against your quivering hole.

San enters you in one smooth motion, his pelvis touching your ass as his whole thick, hot length ends up inside of you. He lets out a low moan as he feels the rope garter belt around your hips, brushing against his hips with every move he makes. He loves fucking you like this—bound, helpless, completely controlled by him. San immediately picks up the pace and starts fucking you hard and fast—just the way you want him to do it.

He grabs hold of the back of your rope corset and uses it as leverage to fuck you even harder. You look at yourself in the mirror once more and lock eyes with San as he fucks you from the back. His eyes are too dark for you to understand the emotion that is hidden behind the black, gleaming irises, but you are sure that it is something deeper and more dangerous than just ordinary lust.

Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust, and your breathing becomes heavy as San's hand clasps your throat, cutting off some oxygen. This action only serves to push you even closer to your orgasm.

You can feel San's hot length pulsating inside of you as it rubs against your sensitive, smooth walls with every powerful thrust of his hips. The sound that fills the room is sickeningly wet and loud, intertwined with your screams and moans and San's deep, purring groans. It sounds like fucking porn.

The tension inside you is growing with each passing second, and the walls of your pussy are beginning to shrink as you try to hold his dick in and make it harder for him to move. Every time you squeeze his cock, bringing him closer to his own orgasm, San hisses behind you. For a second, you're completely lost in what's happening. San's hand is squeezing your throat so tightly that black spots start to dance in front of your eyes - while the head of his cock hits your G-spot every time he enters you. Tears begin to flow from your eyes, and your mouth opens slightly, either to catch your breath or to try and moan his name. You're so close to cum.

San tightens the rope loops of your corset even further and pulls you against his body before his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he pushes into you with a rough, powerful thrust. He growls like a cat as he clenches his teeth on your skin, making it bleed as he fills you with his thick, warm cum. Such an animal act of power pushes you over the edge, and you come on his cock, your eyes rolling back in and choking on your moans.

San watches your orgasmic expression through the mirror, lazily licking the bleeding wounds of his teeth on your skin. Your sensitive walls tremble with stimulation as he continues to thrust weakly into you. Some of his cum, mixed with your juices, begins to leak from your used cunt and drip onto the floor.

You remain in this position for a few more minutes as you catch your breath from the intense orgasm you have just experienced. San pulls out of you, and this causes even more of his cum to flow out of your hole. He turns you over so that you are facing him, tangles his fingers in your hair, and tilts your head back so that you are looking into his eyes.

"You're absolutely beautiful, my angel." His lips are soft and too tender as he plants a kiss on you. This is the kind of kiss that can make you fall in love, and falling in love with San is as dangerous as a voluntary refusal of oxygen. Fatal. When he leaves your lips, the look in his eyes is dark and utterly evil, and you don't know what else to call him if he's not the devil himself. "You still look too pure and sweet for me; it seems I'm going to need to work harder to get you destroyed, my princess."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #atz smut #ateez hard hours #ateez unholy hours #smut #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #san smut #choi san smut #choi san x reader

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rafecamerons-national-anthem · 2 months ago

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𝒞𝐻𝐸𝑀𝐼𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒴-𝒟𝑅𝐸𝒲 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒦𝐸𝒴

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Drew Starkey and Y/N’s romance ignites the moment they meet at an audition, each drawn to the other by a magnetic connection that feels like fate. As they’re cast as romantic leads in Love Amongst the Lines, their on screen chemistry mirrors the real bond blossoming between them.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The moment their eyes met across the crowded room at the audition, it was as if time had stopped. His heart skipped a beat as he took in her radiant smile and the way her eyes sparkled with excitement. She felt a warmth spread through her body, the kind she had only read about in her favorite romance novels.

Drew, a rising star in the film industry, had seen countless faces in his auditions, but none had ever captivated him quite like hers. Y/N, on the other hand, was a newcomer to the world of acting, her passion for the craft burning brightly and her nerves jangling like a thousand bells.

Their hands trembled as they reached out to shake for the first time, the electricity between them palpable. "Hi, I'm Drew," he murmured, his Southern drawl sending shivers down her spine. "And I'm Y/N," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person."

Drew couldn't help but feel that this was more than just a chance encounter. The chemistry between them was undeniable, a force that seemed to pull them closer together despite the chaotic environment. They exchanged nervous laughs as they talked about their shared love for the art of storytelling and the thrill of bringing characters to life.

As the audition process rolled on, they found themselves stealing glances at each other between takes, each one more meaningful than the last. It was during a break in filming that Drew mustered the courage to ask her out for coffee, hoping to get to know her better outside of the intense pressure of the audition room.

"You know," he began, his voice a little shaky, "I think we could really make a great team." Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his words, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I'd love that," she replied, her voice filled with hope and excitement.

Their first date was nothing short of magical. They talked for hours about their dreams, their fears, and the movies that had inspired them to pursue acting. The connection grew stronger with each shared laugh and secret revealed. It was as if they had known each other for a lifetime rather than a few short hours.

As they walked back to the studio the next day, the air was charged with anticipation. They had both received the news that they had been cast in the lead roles of the upcoming romantic comedy, "Love Amongst the Lines." Their hearts raced as they thought about the journey they were about to embark on together, not just as co stars, but as a couple whose love had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

The first day on set was a whirlwind of activity. The director, a seasoned veteran with a keen eye for talent, noticed the palpable energy between them and knew that their real-life romance would translate beautifully onto the screen. As they rehearsed their scenes, Drew couldn't help but feel a thrill every time he was close to Y/N. Her touch, her scent, her laugh, it was all so intoxicating.

Their on screen chemistry was undeniable. The way their eyes met, the way their fingers brushed against each other's, and the way they delivered their lines as if they had been written just for them. It was clear to everyone on set that this was more than just acting, it was true love unfolding before their very eyes.

But as the days turned into weeks and the script grew more intimate, Drew and Y/N began to feel the weight of their newfound feelings. Was it possible to keep their personal lives separate from their professional ones? Could they handle the scrutiny of the media and the demands of the film industry? Or would their love story be nothing more than a fleeting moment in the spotlight?

Their conversations grew more serious as they grappled with these questions. Yet, every time they looked into each other's eyes, all doubts disappeared. They knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they had found something special, something worth fighting for.

And so, as the cameras rolled and their characters fell in love, Drew and Y/N couldn't help but feel that their own love story was playing out alongside the script. With each kiss they shared, each tender moment they created, they fell a little deeper. The lines between reality and fiction blurred, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotion that came with falling in love for the first time.

"Cut!" the director yelled, snapping them out of their daze. They pulled back, their faces flushed and their hearts racing. The crew around them applauded, but their minds were elsewhere.

"That was…amazing," Drew whispered, his gaze never leaving hers. Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck. "You really brought it to life," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Their relationship grew stronger as the filming progressed, each intimate scene only serving to strengthen the bond between them. Off screen, they found themselves rehearsing their lines together, discussing character motivations and plot points, but mostly just lost in each other's company. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring them together, and now they were inseparable.

But with every public appearance and interview, the pressure mounted. They had to be careful not to let their real feelings show, to keep the magic of their budding romance contained within the confines of the set. The paparazzi were relentless, searching for any hint of scandal or a juicy storyline to sell to the tabloids. Yet, they remained steadfast, choosing to keep their love a secret from the prying eyes of the world.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of shooting, they found refuge in a quiet corner of the set. The lights had dimmed, and the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. Drew took her hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "You know," he said, his voice barely audible, "I never thought I'd find this kind of connection on a movie set."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with emotion. "Neither did I," she confessed. "But here we are."

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss, a kiss that spoke volumes about the depth of their feelings. It was a moment that seemed to exist outside of time, a secret shared between the two of them amidst the chaos of production.

As the weeks turned into months, they grew more comfortable with each other, their love story weaving itself into the very fabric of the film. And though they knew the end of filming would bring an end to their shared secret, they were determined to make the most of every moment.

But little did they know, the universe had more surprises in store for them. As the final scenes were shot and the director called for the last take, the cast and crew gathered around to congratulate them. The whispers grew louder as rumors of their off-screen romance began to spread. And when the cameras stopped rolling, it was no longer just their characters who had to navigate the choppy waters of love and fame, it was Drew and Y/N themselves.

Their gazes held, filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. They had taken a chance on love in the most unlikely of places, and now they were about to find out if their love story could survive the glare of the spotlight.

The premiere of "Love Amongst the Lines" was a star studded affair, with the who's who of Hollywood eagerly awaiting the debut of the film's dynamic new couple. Drew and Y/N walked the red carpet together, their arms entwined, every step a silent declaration of their feelings for each other. The flashes of cameras and the screams of fans only served to amplify the butterflies in their stomachs.

As they took their seats inside the theater, Drew leaned over to whisper in Y/N's ear. "Remember, we're in this together." She nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. The lights dimmed, the film began, and their love story played out before an enraptured audience. Each shared glance, each tender touch, each whispered "I love you" resonated with an honesty that could not be faked.

After the credits rolled and the applause died down, they held their breath as the reviews began to pour in. Critics raved about their on screen chemistry, dubbing them the new "It" couple of the industry. But amidst the glitz and glamour, they held onto each other tightly, knowing that the real magic was in the love they had found off screen.

Their relationship became the talk of the town, with fans eagerly following every detail of their blossoming romance. Interviewers threw in sly questions about their real-life counterparts to the characters they played, hoping to catch a glimpse of the truth. Yet, Drew and Y/N remained professional, always giving just enough to keep the mystery alive.

Through the press junkets and the award season, they grew more in love with each passing day. Their secret had become their shield, allowing them to keep their relationship pure and untouched by the often harsh realities of the entertainment business.

But as the whispers grew louder and the rumors more insistent, they knew they couldn't hide forever. The time had come to decide if they were ready to take the next step, to share their love with the world and see if it could withstand the scrutiny of the public eye.

Their hearts pounding in unison, they made the choice to go public. Hand in hand, they faced the media, their love for each other shining brighter than any Hollywood spotlight. The announcement sent shockwaves through the industry, but Drew and Y/N only had eyes for each other, their bond unshakeable amidst the chaos.

The journey ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges they had never imagined when they first met in that crowded audition room. But as they looked into each other's eyes, they knew that together, they could conquer anything that came their way.

Their love story had become a real life fairytale, and as they stepped out into the world as a couple, ready to face whatever came next, they had one thing in common with their on screen counterparts, they were ready to write their own destiny.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader

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okwonyo · 11 months ago

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memories of heart.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ( 형들 ) + femreader （？） fluff established relationship warning not-proofread skinship kissing & 500 —⠀ bookshelf

notes. i'm so sleepy T^T

heeseung

arcade date: has always dreamed about going to this kind of dates; especially as the hopeless romantic as he is and how much he loves video games, the thought of playing a bunch of these with the one he loves makes him become red from cheerfulness. proud smile on his face, he is the type to win a plushie a prize for a game and offer it to you— “thank you for being here with me”

photobooth date: is beyond annoying about which poses you should do, claiming he wants the set of pictures to be perfect. ‘sit like that’s and ‘put your hand over here, baby’s before each flash, he makes you sit on his laps and hold you by the waist firmly. giving up on posing perfectly, he always and up giggling when you look at him for a slip second— hand slipping from the top of your thigh to right before the knee, you can see his cheeks growing red in the photography.

jongseong

stargazing date: prepares a whole picnic for the night, with your favorite flowers and dishes— made sure to put on the most romantic songs he has ever heard, with a couple of scented candles as-well.. whispers; “i think i love you too much, because..” he squeezes your hand, “in a sky full of stars, i will only ever see you” while you both watch the stars shining in the sky, he only watches them through your shiny eyes.

baking date: lets you tie the bow of his soft pink floral apron you bought for him for your six months anniversary. dots on you during the whole time, hand placed on your lower back as you put on glazing on the cute cake just made— leaning in as you does too, he might fall into it if he keeps on going. his favorite part is when you feed him some red and sugary strawberries.

jaeyun

lantern festival date: he takes you there after you told him you always wanted to go to one, mainly inspired by reponzel but also because you find the concept beautiful— and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. he holds the lantern as you put the candle in it, thinking you look so cute with that focused expression of yours. finds himself enjoying the rise of all the lanterns in the sky.

beach date: initially wanted to take a walk; claiming that the summer's warmth and clear sky was too beautiful to be missed. hand in hand, bumping shoulders when one of you says something funny, walking away from each other and coming back when the distance threatens to make your hands let go of each other. you end up both in the water at some point, clothes still on but barely even caring— he helps you float on your back, tries to kiss you under the salty water..

sunghoon

biking date: has spent weeks trying to find the perfect place to go biking together and made sure to do it when the weather starts being nice again. at some point, he starts biking close to you and with one single hand; trying to reach you with a stupid smile on his face, he loves cliche, you reach his hand and your fingers touch.. you hold hands for ten minutes before he almost falls.

auquarium date: running around the almost empty walls of the aquarium as you booked for the night session, looking at the fish wide headed as you swear it looks exactly like your boyfriend, holding hands while the blue hue kisses your skin tenderly— everything that makes an aquarium date one and are one your ‘date to do’ list, are the things you and him would do instinctively.

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches

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loveburrowx · 9 months ago

Text

The Novella

Request - Joe decided to have a romantic date with Y/N but things take a turn all because of a Novella.

Warnings - Smut (Intercourse)

A/N - if u like romantic fanfics this one for you! Enjoy!

The night air was thick with anticipation as Joe Burrow's massive, imposing mansion loomed before them. Its walls were adorned with priceless works of art and the grounds were meticulously landscaped, a testament to his immense wealth and success. As Joe opened the grand door, revealing the opulent interior, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. Her name was Y/N, and she was Portuguese - a fact that made the evening all the more special for Joe, who had always been enamored with her culture.

As they were led into the lavish dining room, Joe couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was dressed in the most exquisite gown, her long raven hair flowing down her back like a waterfall. The way it caught the light as they moved through the room was nothing short of breathtaking. The meal was fit for a king and queen, with the finest wines and delicacies from around the world gracing their table.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their shared love of football to their families and their heritage. As the evening progressed, an undeniable chemistry began to build between them. Finally, Joe broached the subject that had been on his mind all night. "So," he said, his voice low and seductive, "would you like to watch a movie with me later?" Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She knew exactly what kind of movie he was talking about. "I'd like that very much," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

After the dishes had been cleared away, they retired to Joe's private screening room. The walls were adorned with luxurious red velvet curtains, and the plush seats were comfortable enough to sink into and lose yourself in the film. Joe switched on the projector, and the screen lit up with the opening credits of a classic romantic novela. As they settled in, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. This was the first time they would be spending any extended period of time alone together.

The novella began, and before long, they were caught up in the story of star-crossed lovers, their hearts racing in unison as the characters embarked on their passionate affair. It wasn't long before the scene shifted to a particularly steamy love scene, and both Joe and Y/N found themselves becoming increasingly aroused. They exchanged glances, their eyes meeting and holding, as they struggled to contain their desire. Finally, they could no longer hold back, and with a single shared look, they knew they had to act

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, their hands exploring each other's bodies with an urgency that belied their previous restraint. They stumbled out of the screening room and into Joe's bedroom, their need for one another overwhelming. As they fell onto the bed, their clothes were discarded quickly, revealing their naked forms to each other for the first time. Joe took her hand in his and gently guided it to his erect member, her touch sending shivers of pleasure through him.

He began to kiss and nibble his way down her neck, his lips and tongue tracing a path to her breasts, which he cupped in his hands and tenderly caressed. Y/N arched her back, moaning softly as he teased her sensitive nipples with his tongue. She reached down between them, guiding his hips toward her, feeling the heat of his body against her own. "Joe," she breathed, "I can't wait any longer." And with that, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, guiding him inside her.

As they moved together, their bodies in perfect sync, Joe whispered words of love and desire into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her, building to an almost unbearable intensity before crashing over her in a series of powerful orgasms. Exhausted but still intensely aroused, they lay together, their hearts racing and their bodies slick with sweat. "I've never felt anything like that before," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Neither have I," he replied, his voice raw with emotion. "You're incredible." And with that, he began to make love to her again, his movements sure and gentle, his fingers finding just the right rhythm to send her spiraling back into ecstasy.

As the night wore on, they explored each other's bodies in ways they hadn't even imagined possible, their passion only growing stronger with each passing moment. They moved from the bed to the living room, their bodies pressed together as they danced to the music in their minds, lost in the heat of their desire. They found themselves back in the screening room, their lips locked in a passionate embrace as they fumbled to undress, their fingers tracing each other's bodies in the dim light cast by the projector.

Finally, as the sun began to rise, they collapsed together on the couch, their bodies still entwined, their breaths shallow and ragged. "That was...unbelievable," Y/N whispered, her cheek resting against his chest. "I've never known anything like it." Joe wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and breathed in the sweet scent of her skin. "I think," he said, his voice barely audible, "that I'm falling in love with you." And with that, he kissed her, their lips moving together in a slow, tender dance that spoke of promises and possibilities, of a future filled with love and happiness.

As the days turned into weeks, they found themselves falling deeper into a relationship that was both passionate and tender, a bond that seemed unbreakable. They shared everything with each other, from the mundane details of their daily lives to their deepest fears and desires. They explored the world together, discovering new restaurants, museums, and cities, each experience adding a new layer to the rich tapestry of their love.

Joe had never been happier, and he knew that Y/N felt the same way. He watched her as she moved through the world, a radiant light seeming to emanate from her every pore, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance to be a part of her life. She was his everything, his reason for waking up in the morning and his reason for sleeping soundly at night.

One day, as they sat together in the park, watching the children play, Joe gathered the courage to ask her a question that had been on his mind for some time. "Y/N," he began, his voice shaking slightly, "will you be my girlfriend?" She looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness, and without a moment's hesitation, she replied, "Yes, Joe. Yes, I will." And with that, they sealed their love with a kiss that seemed to echo through the entire world.

As their relationship continued to grow and flourish, they found themselves constantly amazed by the depth of their connection. They supported each other through the good times and the bad, always there with a kind word or a gentle touch to offer comfort and reassurance. They spoke of their dreams and aspirations, of the lives they wanted to build together, and of the family they hoped to one day have.

They traveled together, exploring new corners of the globe and discovering the beauty that existed both within each other and within the world around them. They shared their favorite books, movies, and music, and their conversations often lasted late into the night, fueled by their shared curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

Joe never doubted that Y/N was the love of his life, and as the years passed, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his days by her side. He imagined them growing old together, their love only deepening with time, their bond unbreakable. He pictured her face, wrinkled and lined with the wisdom of a life well-lived, and he knew that no matter what the future held, he would always be there for her.

And so, they continued on, their love a beacon of hope and joy in a world that could sometimes be dark and uncertain. They made a life together, built on a foundation of trust, respect, and unconditional love, and they knew that they were lucky to have found each other. For Joe, every day spent with Y/N was a gift, and he vowed to cherish each and every moment for the rest of his days.

As the years passed, they faced challenges together, their bond growing stronger with each obstacle they overcame. They faced illness, loss, and heartbreak, but through it all, they held onto each other, finding solace and comfort in the warmth of their shared love. They became a symbol to those around them of what true love could be, a testament to the power of the human spirit to overcome adversity and find joy in even the darkest of times.

One day, as they sat on a bench in the park they had visited so many times before, Joe felt compelled to express the depth of his love and gratitude for Y/N. He took a small, velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a stunning diamond ring. His heart pounded in his chest as he asked her the question that had been on his mind for so long: "Y/N, will you marry me?"

Tears streaming down her face, Y/N nodded vigorously and threw her arms around him, kissing him passionately. "Yes," she sobbed, "I will marry you. I love you, Joe. With all my heart." And with that, they sealed their promise to spend the rest of their lives together, their love a shining beacon in a world that was ever-changing, but forever held a place for them.

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