#p5 smut

[pparadiselost]

the gentleman and the lure.

akira kurusu x fem reader you thought your relationship with akira ended five years ago, but a chance encounter with him has you rethinking it all. warning(s): nsfw, timeskip au (akira is 23), reader implied to also be 23 minors do not interact.

in all honesty, you initially thought this whole thing was your eyes playing tricks on you.

but some deeper, unconscious part of you knew otherwise. nothing else, nobody else in this world could make you do a double take in the same you just did, your feet hesitating like an out-of-beat step in the larger waltz from the passersby around you. shibuya is wild like that, demanding your adherence to the dance while setting your imagination free.

you blink. it can’t be him. 

that chapter of your life had closed five years ago, and you were now preoccupied with finding your place in the world. it had taken a lot of time, a lot of anger and bargaining, a lot of unspoken grief and nights sobbing into your pillow wondering if there was anything you could have done to change the outcome, but ultimately, time proved to be the most effective medicine. you closed that part of your youth with a bittersweet tinge in your memories, and you tucked it somewhere close to your heart to savor on nights whenever drinking alone wasn’t enough to plunge you fully into the depths of your personal melancholy.

but it is him. 

wavy tufts of midnight black hair, smooth skin like a greek statue come to life, and sleek black glasses frames that only momentarily hide the big innocent doe eyes that make you stop dead in your tracks.

your throat clamps down on itself. the cacophony of the city suddenly mutes itself in your ears, and you can’t hear any of it. none of the footsteps, the voices, the honking of cars and the blasting advertisements, the chirping of pigeons, everything becomes completely obsolete as you struggle to even breathe. you want to say something, to even get a pathetic squeak out, but it’s as if every part of your mind shut down instantly, and you realize you were rendered frozen.

the man standing a few feet away from you also does a double take, and a few annoyed pedestrians storm between the two of you. but he doesn’t move and neither do you.

“is… is that you? is that who i think it is?” he steps closer, and you can make out his soft voice. his lips are a gentle shade of cherry red, and you’re suddenly aware of how much taller he is than from when you last remember. 

your eyes tremble when you finally let yourself take a good look at him, and despite the initial features that caught you like a deer in headlights, you also notice that he’s changed more than you thought. he’s definitely older. his features are sharper. his chest is a bit bigger and shoulders a bit broader, jawline more defined and the once-cherubic roundness in his eyes have honed themselves into something more adult-like.

your heart skips a beat.

“it is you.” there’s nowhere else for you to run now, now that he has you within arm’s reach. you’re still dumbstruck, the million thoughts in your mind unable to string themselves into tangible words, and you’re scared that this chance will slip out of your hands and become something you regret for the rest of your life. but at the same time, there’s too much emotion overwhelming you, almost like the entire passage of time spiel was rapidly unraveling in your head.

your tongue is a deadweight on the inside of your mouth, and yet when he reaches out to grab you, his hand wrapping around your arm and tugging you in his direction, leading you out of the middle of the crosswalk and towards the safety of the sidewalk, all you can conjure up is a surprised gasp. you sound like a wounded animal, but you let the dark-haired man whisk you away, your legs and feet stumbling behind you as if he was a puppeteer and you, the puppet.

it’s only when he takes you to a more secluded area, the mouth of an alley a little tucked away, do you manage to eke out your first words to him.

your voice shakes. you sound like you’re about to cry. you feel like you’re about to cry. “k… kurusu.”

he laughs under his breath, and hearing it makes you want to throw up on your own feet. you’ve craved that sound for so long. it haunts your dreams, your waking moments, the breakdowns you might have had when you stayed up past your bedtimes and let your mental demons claw too long at you. 

“that’s me.”

he pauses for a second, and he glances at you almost sheepishly. he is older, but he’s definitely still very young. probably around 23, most likely fresh out of college, maybe looking for his first job out in the real world, going through the same growing pains as you are right now. he still retains that boyish charm you ascribed to him in your brain, and you see it clearly through his big angelic eyes.

“it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m sorry. i should apologize for that,” he starts calmly, “i didn’t mean to lose contact with so many people after i moved back home all that time back… especially with you.”

what were you supposed to say? the path of least resistance would be to lie and say that it was alright that you let him go, that you spent your time alone practically torturing yourself over a love that could no longer be. but it wasn’t like you could suddenly dump all of that, especially within the first few minutes of meeting him again, and it wasn’t like your body was being particularly cooperative either.

you hold your breath. he waits a beat, and then he rummages through his pocket and extends his phone towards you.

“here. i wish i had more time to catch up with you. i’m getting back from my lunch break right now, so i can’t stick around. but put in your information, and if you’re willing, i really want to take some time and talk to you again.” his black eyes are on you again, and you can see your startled reflection staring back from his irises. “would you be okay with that?”

you’re a person haunted. possessed. you wordlessly take his phone from his hands, and you methodically type your information in. you give it back to him without much more fanfare, and only then does he allow himself a smile.

his fingers brush across yours, and the spark that shoots straight to your stomach leaves you reeling. your heart sinks like a rock when you see his happy face. his smile is beautiful and poised, and it’s nothing short of a lethal poison to your consciousness.

“thanks. i have to run now, but i’ll contact you as soon as i can. it… it’s a miracle to see you again. i didn’t think a day like this would come.” he admits. he shifts his weight slightly, and he rechecks his watch before nodding apologetically at you. “i know it’s long overdue to say something like this, but… take care of yourself. i’ll see you soon.”

maybe in another life, you would have reached out and grabbed him by the back of his cardigan to yank him back towards you. maybe in another life, you would have followed him out to the train station that had stolen him out of your life and whisked him home, condemning you to a solitude you couldn’t wish upon anyone. maybe in another life, you were a different person that he might have considered worthwhile to keep a connection going, instead of forcing you to spiral and wonder if this was a love worth fighting for. 

but it all comes crumbling when you see him dash away. you see the lush glimmer of his black hair as it bounces with his steps, long legs striding across the white paint of the crosswalks. if you were doomed to be the tragic side character stuck behind the whims of a cruel writer’s desires and fate, longing for the warmth of recognition, then this man is undoubtedly the protagonist, always just slightly out of the reach of your outstretched fingers.

the rest of shibuya closes in on him like a curtain call, the people of the city drowning out your vision of him like waves crashing down, and you’re left alone as the overwhelming and biting loneliness wraps its arm around you and chokes you from the inside out. 

…

…

…

how could you describe akira kurusu? there was no easy label to slap onto everything that went down five years ago, back when you were both young and in high school and didn’t know any better. all the lovebirds on your social media apps threw around these buzzwords like situationship, delusionalship, this and that, but you hate the thought of defining what you and akira had with something so soulless. so simple.

but at the same time, you couldn't deny the truth that whatever you and akira had wasn’t clearly defined either. there were no labels despite the complexity of the relationship, and it was every bit ambiguous as the same situations everyone else bemoaned about their lackluster love lives.

it was this ambiguity that proved to be the stalker at the foot of your bed each and every night.

you two were schoolmates. you tutored him a few times. went on dates with him a few times. slept with him a few times. you two had a relationship in every sense but the label, and you had learned to foster intense and real feelings for him. you’d listen to his heartbeat while curled up in his little bed in leblanc’s attic, and you’d wake up to him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes while you’d pretend to sleep so you could cuddle him a bit longer.

but just as quickly as it seemed to begin, his probation was done, and he left tokyo before you could find any way to cling to him even across all the distance. you had hoped that he’d reach out to you in some way and let you know that you weren’t entirely delusional in believing that you had something special with him, but the long stretches of silence made you realize harshly that there was nothing for you to cling to anymore.

you’d even turn up to leblanc by yourself a few times, and sojiro would shoot you a few glances. but you never mentioned akira to him, and the old man never mentioned akira to you either. it was a silent understanding between the two of you as sojiro fixed you a cup of coffee the way you liked it, that neither of you had been successful in hearing from akira.

“so,” his calm voice shakes you from your thoughts. you’re no longer in high school and crying on your bedroom floor over your boyfriend-not-boyfriend who moved back home. you don’t feel much more adult than your teenager self, but you’re sitting at a table across from akira, who’s busy scrutinizing the menu in his hands.

you reach for the glass of water to your right and take an impatient sip. your mouth feels dry, and it’s a good tactic for you to fully avoid conversation for a little while. just a few days prior, akira had reached out to you through the newly acquired number he got from you, and he had asked you to get dinner with him like he said he would. 

you should have known that this would open up old wounds, but the “what if” that nagged in your head had you accepting his offer before you could fully think it through. 

could you even call it an offer though? without any real string attached? this was exactly the same way he would unofficially ask you out when the two of you were young. you two would romp all over shibuya, eating yummy snacks and doing all sorts of dumb things, too drunk in each other’s presence to really take in the world around them.

“does anything catch your eye? i heard that this place was pretty good through the grapevine,” he admits. he glances up from his menu and smiles shyly, and you almost choke mid-swallow on your mouthful of water. it’s just so unfair how deceptively pretty he is, despite the fact that the word handsome would be more suitable for a young man he is, but you know better than to think that you could ever resist his sparkling eyes.

you set your glass down. “i’ve never been here before, so… you know this place better than i do. i suppose we can ask the waiting staff here for recommendations.”

he closes the menu. “that sounds like a good idea. do you want something other than water to drink? there’s no need to be polite—this dinner is my treat. oh, don’t make that face. i was the one who invited you out, so it’s only fair that i treat you.”

were you making a face? you bit back the urge to touch your face and hide your expression behind your hands. this really felt too much like a date, and despite the walls you wanted to put back up to fend akira off, his subtle ways of peppering you with the attention you craved so badly deep down through what felt like small talk was a bit too smooth for your liking. did he do this often with other romantic prospects while he was gone? what other people did he take an interest in since the last time you had seen him? god, did he butter others up as he was with you?

you push those negative thoughts out of your head. his five years of silence spoke enough for itself, and you scold yourself internally. you should know better than to swoon over your long lost first love again, and for you, the purpose of this dinner was for you to find closure. you didn’t want to open a door to your heart for him too quickly again, lest he end up slamming it back in your face once more.

the silence between the two of you became uncomfortable. you gather your courage, soothing over the uneasy heartbeat rattling at your ribcage, and you look at him pointedly. “...i wanted to ask this last time, but i didn’t get a chance to. how have you been, kurusu?”

he stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head when his last name leaves your mouth. he leans forward and places his elbows on the table, and he folds his hands, palms down, so he can place his chin on his intertwined fingers. “kurusu? you called me that when i ran into you.”

“what else would i call you?” you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of calling him akira just yet. calling him by his first name was something personal, something intimate. it was a title reserved for people close to each other, and while you might not have hesitated had the two of you retained your relationship from before, right now, he was nothing more than a stranger to you. 

he’s horrendously perceptive, and akira shrugs. “you know what to call me.”

your stomach does a flip, and you don’t want to give him more of an opening to flirt with you. it feels as if he’s stabbing you emotionally and twisting the knife into your heart, making sure you can feel the yearning and the pain in every tendon, muscle, and sinew of your being. “why are you in shibuya again?”

he pushes back against his seat slightly, his long fingers wrapping themselves against the edge of the table. “job hunting. i graduated university fairly recently, and i need to keep myself afloat. i figured a big city would have some good opportunities. and besides…”

he trails off slightly, and as much as you hate it, you’re pretty sure you can predict his next words. this place is like a second home to him. he has history here, connections, something that could serve as the foot-in-the-door for his future. he stretches his neck a little, and his jet black hair catches and twinkles like the remnants of starlight under the dim light of the restaurant.

“i’m a little picky about what i do.” his gaze is on you again. “you of all people should know that i’m not the kind of guy to be a corporate slave. i know having the ability to choose is a luxury in a society like this, but i can try, can’t i?”

you wish he wouldn’t say that. you wish you didn’t know him so well. you wish he would stop assuming that you did. you curl your fist in your lap under the table. big emotions swirl in your chest: regret, desperation, anger, but above all, a sense of foolishness for thinking that maybe, just maybe, your desire for him wasn’t as unfounded as you believed it to be. 

“c’mon,” he urges. he leans in, and his voice quiets itself. “there’s a lot i have to explain to you. i… i know there’s a lot i did you wrong by. but that’s why i’m here, aren’t i? won’t you give me another chance?”

your heart plunges into your stomach when you hear the sweet cadences of his softened words. the same tones as the dulcet “good morning”s he’d whisper to you after a romantic night, the “get home safe”s he’d wish you when he’d drop you off at your train station late at night, the same whispered words from a lifetime past. he can definitely sense you wavering, the fear in your eyes, the misery that he single-handedly caused. 

your lips quiver. the wise thing would be to not answer him, but could you really bear to do that? to sit in silence and close that door. this whole thing could backfire on you and leave you even more broken than he did before, but the gnawing in your gut tells you the very thing you had feared from yourself. 

you were still in love with akira kurusu. you had always been.

“d-don’t make me answer that.” you hang your head. akira hums softly, and he pushes away from you again, lengthening the distance between you and him across the table by just a few more inches so you could breathe. 

“well… you have the rest of the evening to think about it.” he raises his hand, smoothly waving someone from the waiting staff over. he looks to you through the corner of his eye, and when your eyes meet, he resembles less of the boy you once loved and more like a gentleman this time around, still craving to get his paws all over your love and steal it away selfishly for himself, but with more of a dangerous edge to it. like a blade hidden behind a pretty wrapper, you know his aim was to always gun straight for your heart. 

his eyes narrow slightly. his lips part ever so slightly, as beautiful as the day five years ago you had given him your last kiss. 

“but at the very least… why don’t you give ‘us’ another chance?”

…

…

…

“...thank you for dinner. it was very lovely.”

“there’s really no need to thank me. think nothing of it. like i said, it was the least i could do for you.” akira rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. the night air is cool against your face as the night settles down on the busy city. there’s the distant honking of horns, an ever present reminder to you that the inhabitants of shibuya never truly sleep. the world is constantly moving around you, just like time, whether you like it or not.

the sun is long gone, and the bright city lights replace its glamor. they almost remind you of stars if you let your vision unfocus, but right now, the floor is suddenly the most interesting thing you’ve seen in your entire life.

“if that’s all… i should be on my way before it gets much darker.” if you could run away from the entrance of the restaurant, you would do so in a heartbeat. you want to go home and lock yourself in your bedroom and sob your eyes out into your pillows, undoubtedly over all of the reopened wounds and over your own cowardice in regards to how to face akira. it was like whenever you made the resolve to get over him, he’d romp around your mind, and whenever you tried to play into his game, he’d simply turn the tables on you.

he glances at you. disappointment tinges his features, and it’s enough to make your heart squeeze with a bit of a painful pang. “already…? i was going to ask you if you wanted to do this again. i’ll be around the city for a little bit, and i really enjoyed myself.”

you stop dead in your tracks. it’s a bad idea to accept, but you can’t bear to do it when he’s looking at you with those big, wide eyes. it’s his ultimate weapon, paired best with his quick mind. he knows how to get you to crumble, to make your own mind turn against you, and you’re hesitating again. akira has you dancing in the palm of your hand all so effortlessly. 

it’s best for you to be ambiguous. just because he can see all of your cards doesn’t mean that he can predict the way you’ll choose to play them. “i’ll see when i have time in my schedule and get back to you.”

he looks at you as if he’s unconvinced with your lackluster answer, but he’s smart. he chooses not to press you further about it. after all, cornered prey tend to get the most defensive, and he would much rather that you walk willingly into his honeyed traps. 

“y’know… are you busy right now then? i’ve got a bit of a hankering for something after such a nice dinner, and my place isn’t too far off from here.” he moves closer to you, and your heart leaps into your throat at the sudden proximity. he smiles gently at you, almost too innocent for your own good. “i’ve been practicing brewing coffee all this time. i could fix you a nice cup. it’ll be a lot better than all the shitty ones i’d make you drink when we were both in high school. do you still like your coffee the same as you did back then? c’mon, it’s just one cup. i’ll make it worth your while.”

you should be wiser. sharper. stricter. but akira looks like a kicked puppy, and he also looks like he’s about to grab onto your wrist and beg on his knees if you were to give him the cold shoulder and leave. there’s a sticky lump in the back of your throat that won’t go away no matter how much you swallow, and you wonder if giving in to him would make the uneasiness in your stomach go away. would it be worth it?

“...you said your place wasn’t far?” the words coming from your mouth feel like a death sentence. the black-haired man instantly lights up, and he nods enthusiastically. 

“just a couple of minutes. follow me. i promise i won’t make you regret this.” he reaches for your hand, and sparks shoot across your body when his long fingers wrap around yours, tugging you closer to his side. your stomach plummets, and you’re struck with the horrifying revelation that his hands feel so right intertwined with yours. it reminds you too closely of when he was yours, of when you’d walk side-by-side as if you were a real couple. 

you can barely remember the walk to his place. you vaguely recall crossing a few streets, your attention too transfixed on the man guiding you. you stumble up a few apartment steps, your heartbeat hammering in between your ears and stirring up a storm in your temples as he fumbles with his front keys, swinging his door open too eagerly, and practically shoving you into his apartment suite. 

your throat tightens up for the millionth time that night when the first thing you can make out from his doorway is how much his apartment simply smells like him. it hasn’t changed in five years; he still smells exactly like the way he would when you’d nuzzle into the crook of his neck all those years ago.

“it’s not anything special.” he comes up from behind you, kicking his shoes off before straightening them by the entrance. “but it’s perfect for someone living alone. i promise it’s normally a lot cleaner than i have it right now, so ignore anything that… might be a bit messy. y’know how it is with us men and living alone.”

you barely respond to his joke as you slide your own shoes off, stuck in basically a trance-like state. you trace your eyes over every part of his tiny apartment: the pictures hung up on his wall, the coats hanging from the closet with the door slid halfway open, the mismatched bits of furniture he most definitely got second hand. despite his warning, his place is maintained nicely and clean, nothing short of what you’d expect from someone as surprisingly prim and proper as him. he’s a gentleman to his core. 

he leads you to his living room, where you can get a pretty good glimpse of his small kitchen. his place is rather intimate, cozy, the kind of place that feels like it was made to welcome you. you barely keep yourself from curling your hands into fists to keep them from shaking, and you focus your mind on the details you can see as you sink down into his couch.

“stay right there.” akira pads into the kitchen, and he opens his cabinets to rummage for his supplies. “i’m going to break out the really fancy coffee cups, just for you. sojiro never taught me this part specifically, but i’m pretty sure he’d rip my teeth out if i served my coffee to a pretty lady in a regular cup.”

you almost stop breathing when he slips in a compliment so nonchalantly. you want to scold him and tell him to quit doing things like that. it’s bad for your resolve, and you hate to think about how he managed to get this smooth while you were gone. you gnaw on your tongue as akira hums to himself, working his magic with the beans of his choice. soon enough, the mature aroma of coffee stains the air, wafting like a magic spell towards you and intermingling with his scent. you could get drunk off a smell like this, entranced and held captive in place without a single restraint to physically hold you down.

you’re so caught up in savoring this nice atmosphere, irregardless of the weird tension mounting the back of your mind, that you barely catch akira as he brings you a fancy cup filled with freshly made coffee. he has a matching one for himself, a pair finely decorated porcelain cups that feature what looks like a painted couple in old rococo-esque clothes. they’re definitely meant to be used together, probably best for a couple. you don’t really get the chance to overthink it too much, as he hands you one and keeps one for himself. you mumble a shy word of thanks as you warm your hands against the glass.

your reflection stares back at you when you glance over the rim. the color is dark yet refined, like you’re staring into a rippling lake rather than a cup of coffee. it smells even more delicious now that it’s up close, and it feels like a shame to drink it. it makes you wish that you were a coffee connoisseur in the way that akira is, like you’re unfit to be able to appreciate the art that comes with making a beautiful cup of coffee.

“i made it just the way i remember you to like it. but better, of course, now that i have more practice under my belt. i know what i’m doing with my coffee now. go ahead. try it, and let me know what you think.” akira encourages you. his eyes are twinkling in clear excitement. you peek at him and then back at your dumbfounded self staring back in the coffee.

you bring the cup to your lips and take a tentative sip, not wanting to burn yourself. a rich and deep flavor, bitter and yet delectable, coats your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. it slips down your throat easily, warming you up from the inside and out and taking away the tension building up in your body straight away. you let out a small sigh of happiness as you take the cup away from your lips, and you’re pretty sure your contentment is written all over your face.

he grins. “good, isn’t it? i knew you’d like this one. i’ll spare you all the details about the beans i’ve used since you probably don’t want to hear it. but have as much as you’d like. nothing makes a man prouder than knowing that he’s made his girl happy.”

there it is again. you look down at your coffee cup with mixed feelings stirring in your heart. but the atmosphere right now is too good for you to want to ruin it. you want to savor what little sweetness you can steal from him. you’ve willingly walked into the lion’s den, and if you’re staring directly into doom’s maw, the very least you could do was to find some enjoyment in it. 

so instead you simply lift the cup, pretend you’re gulping back any regrets and doubts in your mind, and take another generous mouthful of the coffee akira’s specially brewed for you.

…

…

…

“ohhhh- ah- fuck- wait, d-don’t touch me there like that…!”

your body twists violently against his bed, and akira laughs softly against your ear. his grip on you from behind is tight, and no matter how much you thrash against his chest, he refuses to let go of you. your skin is hot despite the cool fabric of his sheets, and it feels like your body’s going to completely give out on you.

you already knew from the start that his coy invitation for coffee was just bait for him to lure you into his bed. but even with that knowledge, there’s something about being stuck back in a lewd embrace with him again that has your stomach coiling in with both excitement and shame. both of your clothes are strewn against his floor, and his cheap mattress creaks as if annoyed whenever you writhe in his arms.

“you’ve changed so much during the time i took my eyes off of you.” one hand gropes shamelessly at your bare tits, sighing when he feels the plush flesh of your chest fill out his palms. his fingers play with your erect nipples, applying just the slightest bit of pressure all to get you to cry out and throw your head back against his bare chest. “and yet… all of your sensitive parts haven’t changed whatsoever. you’ve missed me, haven’t you?”

you don’t have any words for something like that. your lips are swollen from how much he’s kissed you, the small talk about coffee nothing more than an overture for him to lead you into his bedroom, effortlessly coaxing your clothes off of you and indulging in your body again. you hate how well he meshes with your body, how responsive you are to his physical touches, as if you’ve been waiting for this as much as he was.

“i asked you a question.” his sharp voice cuts through the haze in your thoughts, and you shudder when his other hand snakes down your stomach. one knee expertly separates your legs, and a moan builds up in the back of your throat when he starts playing with your wetness. 

akira is a tease through and through. he slides his fingers up and down your slit, and you let out an embarrassed squeak, wanting to cover your face. your juices cover his digits, and heat throbs in your core and pulses under the skin of your face when you register the slick sounds your folds make. 

fuck—were you really that aroused already? 

“so wet… and all we did was kiss. are you that turned on from just that? you’re rather naughty, aren’t you?” he looks at you with words that are nothing like how sweet his eyes are. your voice dies out in your mouth as his fingers start to circle around your pulsing hole, almost like it’s a silent reminder of how much easy access he has to your body.

it’s not fair how easily he can get you to physically succumb to him. this was definitely your fault; you refused any other romantic prospects ever since akira left you, which meant that it had been five long years where your only sexual release was whatever you had to offer to yourself. and with how badly you’ve been pining after him, it was safe to say that touching yourself came nowhere close to having akira’s hands wandering all over your body again.

you yelp when he bites down slightly at your ear, his sharp incisors nipping carefully at the thin skin.

“i want an answer,” he demands breathlessly. “you’ve always been so shy… that part of you hasn’t changed at all.”

“d-don’t make me answer that…!” you choke out. your voice is high-pitched and strained, nothing like the collected facade you had shown him during dinner. he pinches your swollen clit, and pleasure stabs at your stomach. you arch your back against his chest, another desperate cry escaping you. he’s good at this little back and forth, flickering between torturing your clit to rubbing loving circles into your sticky nub. your pussy convulses, and your inner walls are drooling to be fucked out and stuffed with his cock. your body’s missed his touches almost as much as you have emotionally, and the fact that he’s experienced with your body does nothing in your favor.

he presses his lips into the gentle curve of your face, kissing you over and over again. his kisses are so sweet and chaste, unlike the way he toys with your lower half. your hole flutters and dances around his fingertips, leaking like a broken faucet, your pussy telling him everything you refuse to verbalize. he knows how much you want him to fuck you, but he also knows how stubbornly shy you can get. and he also knows that sex is so much more fun when he can peel back all of your walls to get you right where he wants you.

“you’re going to have to answer me, you know,” he purrs. the vibrations reverberate against his chest and towards your bare back. “a gentleman would never do something his lady doesn’t want to do. you can thank sojiro for that.”

you squeeze your thighs slightly around his wrist, and you shudder. “please… don’t do this to me… it’s embarrassing.”

“it’s only me… you’ve slept with me before. why so shy now?” his tongue laps at the shell of your ear, and another shiver runs down your spine when his warm tongue captures your sensitive skin, licking against the thin skin and making your pussy clamp up unintentionally. “unless…? don’t tell me. is there another guy you’ve been doing this with?”

you shake your head vehemently. you wouldn’t ever dream about fucking someone that isn’t akira kurusu.

“like i said, it’s- it’s embarrassing…!!” you breathe. his hands feel so good, touching you all over from behind. you can feel him grinding his hard-on against your ass, and your throat constricts on itself when you feel how big and thick he is. he was always well-built even when you fucked him during your teenage years, but in your memory, he wasn’t this big… your cunt throbs painfully with anticipation at the thought of being stretched out on such a big cock after such a long dry spell, and the arousal swirling slowly in your stomach pleads with you to set your pride aside just this once.

he sighs against your ear. he’s disgustingly sensual, that stupid akira, and his words are honeyed and sensual. “it’s only me… c’mon, all you need to say is that you want me. ‘please fuck me, akira! please fuck me with your cock! i want it inside my pussy!’ that's all you need to say. not too hard now, hm? i basically told you what you needed to say.”

heat burns at your cheeks, and there’s a lump in the back of your throat. you want it, you want to do everything he just said so badly. you want him to pin you down to his cheap mattress and fuck the daylights out of you, until you can’t feel your legs and you can let go of all the emotional baggage you built up. the shame and the embarrassment grip in between your hips, and you swallow back whatever hesitation swims in your gullet.

“p-please fuck me, akira…,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “i want you inside me… want your cock inside my pussy…”

“hm? what was that? i could barely hear you.” akira presses harshly against your clit. you let out a loud yelp, electric pleasure jolting up in your pussy. “see? i know you’re capable of being much louder with that pretty voice of yours…”

if looks could kill, you would have murdered akira in your bed with the glare you shot him. he blinks innocently at you, a small grin poised on his lips. this is a battle you can’t win, unless you want to leave his house unsatisfied and unable to do anything about the throbbing deep inside your gut.

“please fuck me, akira!” you make sure your words are pointed. “i-i want you to fuck me! please put your cock inside my- my pussy…!”

he laughs under his breath and rewards you with a kiss, even though you’re flushing with heat and wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “oh, i’ll gladly do that, sweetheart. that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

you bite back your complaints, heart thumping wildly inside of your chest. his erection prods against your thighs, and you part them wider so he can slot himself from behind. you swallow again when his cock slides up and down your slit, and your vision spins when he grinds up against your pussy. his fingers continue to rub and play with your clit, making sure that you don’t get even a second of rest from him.

his pre-cum stained cockhead prods naughtily at your fluttering hole. you take in a deep breath as he presses his tip against the tight ring of muscle. his dark eyes peer at you. “ready, my pretty girl?”

you nod, and a moan immediately lodges itself inside your mouth when he pushes himself in. he’s slow, painstakingly slow, when he pushes himself in. it’s like he wants you to feel every inch of his length, reminding you of everything you’ve missed, of how good it felt to have his cock penetrating you again after so long. akira hisses through his teeth, pushing his cock into your cunt, fighting past through all of the hot and wet tightness, and it takes all of his self-restraint not to empty his balls into your pussy right there and then.

“shit…,” he says breathlessly, “were you always this tight…? fuck- your pussy’s clenching all over my dick… can’t get enough of me now, can you?”

you focus on your breathing, trying to relax your body. a dull sense of pleasure pricks at your brain, and it spreads and trickles under your skin as if it’s a droplet of blood pooling at your fingertip and dripping down. your stomach curls in on itself, and even when you were bracing yourself for the stretch, feeling it all anew feels like it’s blowing your brains out.

“ah-,” you exhale shakily, trembling in his arms, “s-so big…”

“yeah?” he sounds strained too, his cock twitching dangerously against its tight restraints. “‘ve missed this pretty pussy so much, love. i knew you weren’t someone i could just let go willy-nilly. i’ve got you now, pretty, all in my arms.”

you hum, savoring the sensation of your plush walls stretching out to fit his cock, his balls tensed up at your entrance. he hadn’t started moving yet and you were this starstruck over his dick. how the hell were you going to live through the whole ordeal? it didn’t matter. even this much felt good and had you writhing like a lithe cat against his chest, your curves slotting straight into his wandering hands like two matching pieces of a puzzle.

“y-you feel different,” you mumble as one hand ghosts over your chest and the other makes its place in between your thighs again. a whimper bubbles up inside of you when he goes back to rubbing slow circles into your clit, your pussy clenching up and massaging his dick as arousal shoots through your stomach. 

“mhm? tell me about it.” he draws his hips back carefully, and you can hear him let out a haggard exhale when your walls cling to him, not wanting to let his cock go. the friction has you seeing stars in your mind, your brain threatening to melt into goo. he’s still incredibly slow as he pushes back into you, giving your body a chance to catch up, but even at this pace, his thrusts are deep and full.

you shouldn’t stroke his ego, but you wouldn’t be lying if you said that the five years you spent apart from him did change him. maybe you also had gone too long without him and the withdrawal had changed you too. “i don’t know… you feel bigger- feels good inside me…”

“yeah? keep talking to me then. i missed that sweet voice of yours.” his eyelids flutter when your walls twist around him, your greedy pussy eagerly sucking him in deeper and swallowing him in. “ohhhh, fuck…! shit, you feel so fucking good- so fucking tight… haven’t had your pussy in way too long…”

your chest tightens, and you can feel your breathing growing shaky. his thrusts are slowly getting faster, finding a groove that has your thoughts quivering with each snap of his hips. you’re hypersensitive to how he feels inside of you. you can feel everything, and your pussy remembers again how good it felt to have him fucking you. he remembers too, the angles that you liked and just how deep he needed to fuck into you to get you to squeal. and speak of the devil-

“-!! akira!! n-not there, akira! s-so deep-!” your words start slurring together. pleasure rips through your pussy as he effortlessly locates your sweet spot again and starts bullying your deepest parts with his cockhead. “i-if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum…!”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing,” akira chuckles. his dark curls sweep against his forehead, eyes hiding behind the wisps of midnight black hair. “what if that’s what i want you to do? what kind of man leaves his girl unsatisfied? it’s only fun when you’re feeling good… i want to see if i can still get you to crumble after all these years.”

you hiccup as he keeps fucking into you. you can’t think properly, not when he’s hitting your sweet spot without any issue, each thrust forcing his cockhead to slam into your g-spot right on. he keeps playing with your clit, moving in rhythm with his thrusts so that you don’t get even a moment’s worth of reprise. your chest is tight, and your breathing is ragged, your brain only managing to hang on just to get enough oxygen to your fluttering heart.

“yeah, you like it when i touch you like this, don’t you?” akira sounds so full of himself as he practically purrs at you like a cat. he wasn’t lying when he said he missed your body; his cock keeps drooling inside of you. your juices intermingle and mix, acting as the perfect lubricant for him. each snap of his hips is faster and harder, and your mind keeps lighting up with sparks of pleasure as his cock stretches you out. “that’s my girl. ‘m so glad i got your attention again. life is just too boring without you here… ‘m not gonna leave you again, you hear? i made that mistake once. i’m not gonna make it twice.”

“akira!” you scream out, unable to hold yourself back. so much for that rightful fear of yours. you could never resist him, not when he’s saying the very things you dreamt of for five years straight, consoling yourself with no one at your side, just imagining how things might be different if he had wanted you as much as you wanted him.

and now he does. now he’s gripping onto your body, making you twist and turn with pleasure, completely at his mercy with your legs spread apart and your cunt stretched out his girthy cock. the squelching noises as his cock slides in and out of you are downright obscene, and you can’t remember the last time you had gotten this shamelessly wet. not even masturbating had your pussy this excited; your fingers could never replace what real dick did for your cunt.

“there we go. that’s my name,” he praises you. “scream it all you want for me. i want to hear your pretty voice. it makes me feel really good when i hear you crying out my name… it’s like you know that i’m your man. only me. not anybody else.”

you shudder, his dirty talk making your stomach furl in on itself. you hate that silken tongue of his, how he can say such sweet things to you and yet turn you on so badly. you’re glad that he likes you this much; otherwise, you don’t even want to think about what other embarrassing things he might make you do for his own entertainment. this is his version of playing nice. you’re lucky that he considers himself a gentleman and would do anything for your pleasure. 

the lewd sounds of lovemaking and skin against skin quickly fill the room, and he’s thrusting into you just the way you like it. he wasn’t lying when he said he remembered every detail of your sensitive body. he was so good at playing with your body that it almost felt like you were being attacked at all angles. he was showering your nipples and clit with attention, his lips chasing after your body and pressing sticky kisses all over whatever patches of bare skin he could reach. he’d lean his head to make out with you too, eating up your moans as you cry into his mouth, his tongue swirling against yours and making you almost collapse into a heap of sweaty limbs and lovejuices out of how good it was.

“so tight… yeah, you like it like this, don’t you? my cock is the best, isn’t it? you keep clenching up around me, pretty girl,” he breathes. his words are velvety and dark, and whenever he slips his tongue into your mouth, he tastes so addictively good. “i can feel how much your pussy wants me… even if you’re committed to being this shy, your body tells me everything i need to know.”

“don’t say things like that…!” you somehow force your words out through gritted teeth. “i already told you, it’s embarrassing!”

his lips curl into a cruel smile as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, clearly enjoying the way he’s making you squirm. if there’s one thing akira loves, it’s putting you in the hotseat and knowing that he has this kind of effect on you. “is it though? i’m only telling the truth.”

he pinches at your clit at the same time he thrusts up harshly into you, and you let out a breathless shriek as red-hot pleasure rams into your gut. your inner walls clamp down unconsciously onto his dick, gripping onto every inch of his cock. your cervix milks and massages his tip, your pussy pleading desperately to be filled up with both his cock and his cum. 

“just like that.” he sounds so pleased with himself. akira isn’t the kind of guy to get a big head and walk around as if he ruled the place, but he wasn’t one to let any of his victories just slide past. “see? that pretty pussy of yours won’t lie to me.”

your stomach won’t stop lurching with each rough thrust. the heat deep inside of you keeps coiling into painful knots, and you think you’re going to lose your mind. all you can think about is how good it feels to have akira messing up your insides, your walls squelching and molding itself to the shape of his cock. the pleasure is mind-numbing in every sense of the word, and your brain keeps devouring all of the sensations flickering underneath your skin. he knows how to get you aroused too easily, and he makes sure you feel everything he’s doing to you. whether it’s speeding up or slowing down, egging you on with your most sensitive parts, he doesn’t give you an opportunity to really catch up with him. 

“feels good- feels so good-,” your words are starting to melt together incoherently, all of the overwhelming sensations getting the better of you. “if you keep fucking me like that, you’re gonna make me cum…”

“oh, silly girl, we’ve talked about this already.” he kisses your shoulder, and your mouth goes dry when the tip of his sharp teeth ghosts over your exposed skin. “i already told you that that was my goal from the very start. i wanna see my girl cum all over my cock, just like you used to do. you’d make the prettiest noises as you came… are you going to moan for me like that again? or are you going to get shy? do i have to fuck the moans out of you?”

you whimper helplessly, cunt tightening up. you hate how much that turns you on, how much letting him have his way with you has you melting like putty. you must have more of a masochistic side than you’re willing to admit, given how much you get off on having akira manhandle you. 

“don’t be mean to me… you’re so mean…,” you eke out weakly. 

“i’m not being mean. if anything, you’re the mean one… is it too much for a man to want to see how good he’s making his girl feel? i want to see your face twisted in pleasure, your voice all ruined for me, your body all messed up because of me…,” he hums to himself. the lump in the back of your throat is there again, and as if to accentuate his point, he thrusts sharply into you. 

a shockwave of heat shreds you from the inside out, and you arch your back harshly. he keeps torturing you like this. is this his way of edging you? keeping you this close to the edge and telling you about how much he wants to make you cum but not really letting you? akira loves how responsive your pussy is, how you keep milking his cock and fluttering all excitedly around him whenever he whispers about all the lewd things he wants to do to you. your thighs won’t stop shaking, and your juices are dripping everywhere, coating his balls and trickling down your skin and messing up his sheets. 

you’re going to cum soon. your body feels weak and flushed all at once, and heat keeps mounting wildly inside of you. you can’t keep up with everything akira’s doing to you, and no matter how much he’s teasing you and whispering all sorts of dirty things into your ear, all of it is going straight into making your pussy feel good. your cunt won’t quit sucking him in, instantly hooked on the feeling of having your ex-fling’s cock stuffing it again. 

you’re better than this. you know that, and yet you’re not above falling prey to akira’s words and honeyed traps. he’s spun a perfect web to ensnare you in, and you never stood a chance. he has you right where he wants you. 

and you look so, so beautiful to him. he can feel how close you are. your pussy keeps pulsing and squeezing around his length, and your moans are growing more and more desperate. your eyes have lost focus a long time ago, but he knows that if he were to grab your face and force you to look at him, your pupils would still dilate and show him a clear reflection of his triumphant face. sweat beads at your body, and your bare skin is all laid out for him to admire. how could he ever leave you behind like that? you’re everything he’s ever wanted and more. it’s almost too good for him to believe.

“wanna cum-,” you stumble over your own words. “please- ‘m so close, akira… it hurts- don’t edge me…”

he hums, and you let out a pained whine when he slows his pace down, dragging his cock out of you painfully. your hole clings to every inch of his cock, not wanting to let him go, scared that he won’t fuck himself back into you. your brain lights up with pleasure as he slowly fucks himself back in before speeding back up, and the sensation is like whiplash to your overwhelmed senses.

your stomach curls dangerously, and your vision shakes violently as the heat rushes to your gut. you’re so close, so close to cumming, basically almost there. you hold your breath, anticipating the dizzying fall, just needing a little more from him to tip you over the edge. you clench your eyes shut as your insides throw a fit, overstimulated and reeling from how downright good it feels to get dicked down again.

except akira won’t give it to you that easily. 

you let out a drawn out cry when he controls his pace and refuses to give you what you want, and you writhe in his arms, clawing at his bare skin and shaking your head back and forth. it’s awful, you hate it, you hate not being able to cum, feeling like there was a dry spell that refused to be satiated. you feel hollow and empty despite him fucking his cock back into you, trying to build that arousal back up.

“y-you’re edging me!” you protest. “please- i was so close- just wanna cum… it hurts…”

“sorry.” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, but he tries to appease you by pressing another flurry of sweet kisses to your face and neck. “can you blame me though? you sound so pretty, look so pretty… i like knowing that i still have it in me. hm? i’m making you feel good, aren’t i?”

it’s unfair how easily he can mess around with both your physical needs and your emotions. all you care about right now is the burning in between your thighs, the secondary pulse inside of your pussy wanting release. your pussy keeps getting more and more sloppy, juices spilling everywhere. your body isn’t resisting any of his touches anymore, and he’s fucking into you without cracking a sweat.

“c’mon,” he whispers seductively. “let me hear you beg for me some more. this is the only time you’ll ever sweeten up to me. you’re usually the thorny one otherwise. think you’re up for it? or do i need to tell you what to say again?”

your throat tightens, and your mind wavers. your thoughts have hazed over a long time ago, not caring about anything else happening in the world. all that mattered to you right now was the delicious stretch of akira’s cock inside your hole, and all you wanted right now was to cum all over his dick like you didn’t have a shred of pride left in your body. and you bet that was what akira wanted out of you: his guarded and jaded former classmate fucked out into a loving, cum-stained mess right in his bed.

the words are leaving your mouth before you can even fully comprehend them. “want it- want it so bad, akira… please, please, wanna cum on your cock- i’ve wanted it so bad… wanted it all this time, nothing else made me feel good! your cock’s the best, i wanna cum on your cock… please- i can’t think about anything else!”

he laughs breathlessly. you don’t know if it’s because he’s incredulous or if it’s because he’s impressed. maybe both. you couldn’t care less, not when your arousal pounds painfully throughout every corner of your body. you think you’ll actually burst if you don’t get to cum soon.

“yeah? god, can you blame me for getting so greedy with you when this is the kind of shit you reward me with?” he kisses your temples softly, and his lips move against your sweat-beaded skin. “i suppose i’ve tortured you enough, yeah? what a good girl you are, doing everything i ask you to do… it’s okay, i’m not going anywhere. you can cum on my cock as much as you want. it’s my turn to pamper my girl a bit…”

finally. finally…! good god, you swear you’re about to see the pearly gates right there. akira angles his hips just right, and he rams mercilessly into you, savoring the choked out cries and moans of thanks you let out, his name generously mixed into your muddled whimpers the way he likes it best. you’re hanging on by a thread, and akira’s fucking you in a way that’ll have you come undone any moment now.

“c-cumming…! ‘m cumming- akira- oh fuck- fuck, fuck, cumming!” 

your cunt clamps down on his cock like a vice, and you throw your head back, a breathless shriek dying out on your lips as your orgasm crashes into you like a brick wall. something warm and wet gushes out in between your thighs, and heat overtakes you entirely. it feels so good, feeling that tightness in your gut snap and unravel and come completely loose, all of the pleasure coursing through your veins and making your mind go entirely blank. you can barely force a breath through your mouth, shuddering as akira guides you through your high, keeping your quivering walls stretched out to their limit as he pumps his cock in and out you through it all.

your world spins, and it feels like everything is giving out under you. your already foggy vision is fighting to stay as it is, and you cling to whatever part of akira is holding you from behind. fuck, you can’t remember when the last time you came like this was. masturbating and fucking yourself on your fingers all by yourself always felt so dull and lackluster, and actually getting a taste of real dick after having been deprived for so long felt like your entire universe was being flipped upside down. you didn’t even realize how badly you were shaking until akira held firmly onto your form, keeping you locked flush against his bare chest.

“ooh, bet that felt really nice-,” his voice warbles through your hearing. your heartbeat roars against your ears, and it takes everything in you to fully focus on what he’s saying. “fuck- i missed making my girl cum like that… i almost forgot that you make such a pretty face whenever you cum… makes me want to tease you even more. yeah? did it feel that good to cum on my cock? you missed it too, didn’t you?”

your head is heavy as you try to get yourself to nod, fully aware of all the slick covering his cock now. did you really cum that hard? you can’t make heads or tails out of anything right now, the aftermath of your high still possessing you fully. you’re a fucked out mess in that moment, and your head buzzes with the dull thrums of euphoric pleasure. you’re vaguely aware of how much akira’s dick is twitching inside of you, undoubtedly hurtling close to his own high now that he’s seen you turn into this mushy mess all because of him. 

his balls twitch against your lower lips. his cock keeps spasming deep inside of you, and the same desperation that had claimed you whole is egging him on too. he wants to fuck his cum into you, watch your cunt struggle to keep all of it, stare down at you with his lust-stricken eyes as the pearly white ropes start to leak out of you. 

you whine against the friction as he keeps bucking his hips against yours, grinding up just to feel a bit more of you. your head spins at the overstimulation, with him still rutting against you despite the fact that you just came. “t-too much, akira-”

“i’m close, promise-,” he grunts out. “bear with me, okay? so close, gonna fill up your pretty pussy with my cum- you’re being so good for me…”

you nod weakly. you want him to fill you up, want to feel the swell of your stomach as his cum floods your insides. you can bear that much. you keep crying out for him, letting your voice spur him on. you’re sure you’re going to be a sore mess tomorrow, aches already spreading across your lower back and legs, but with how much downright pleasure he can plunge you straight into, it’s a worthwhile trade off.

“god, you’re so fucking perfect…! take it- fuck- take it all… gonna make you mine, gonna make you my girl-,” akira groans. you yelp when he grabs at your hips and keeps you stuck in place, and he buries his cock as deep as he can fuck himself into you. a cold shiver spreads across your spine when he cums hard straight into your cunt, and the warmth bursts across your gut. your walls keen and strain as it stretches out to take his semen while his cock is still stuffed inside, and a sense of otherworldly bliss spreads across your brain when you can feel white hot ropes flood your womb.

“ohhhh- fuck- god-,” akira cries out. he buries his head against your shoulder, panting heavily. your intoxicating scent fills his nose, and he swears that he’s no longer on this earth. just as much as you’ve craved the physical intimacy, akira longed to feel this again, to feel your weight in his arms, to feel the warmth of his cock softening inside of your cunt as your lovejuices mix together. all sorts of hazy pleasures flicker up inside of his mind, and there’s nothing he wants to do more than to keep whispering sweet nothings to you and have you all plugged up with his cum, cement you as his for just a few seconds longer.

but he knows better than to push his luck even more than he has. your mind is swimming even more than his is, and he has to be the responsible one despite having initiated this whole mess to begin with. 

he pulls out with a low groan, and you turn over to lay down on your back finally. your knees part unconsciously, and when akira sits up, he’s immediately entranced at the slow stream of his cum that trickles out of your fluttering hole. his cum slides down the curve of your ass and onto his sheets, a small pool forming underneath you.

did… he really cum that much?

he lets you have a second to pull yourself together, and he helps you. you’re still shaky, but you manage to thank him quietly as he gets up. he grabs the base of his half-hard cock, and he presses the sticky tip to your mouth. you look up at him wordlessly through your eyelashes, but your tongue darts out in between your lips. you obediently start licking the excessive cum off of his length, making sure to swirl your tongue into his slit and let him see you swallowing down whatever he couldn’t fuck into your throbbing cunt.

you missed this salty, heady taste too. you wish you weren’t so fucked out, wish you had something intelligent to say to this. more than anything else though, you wish you could feel something other than a sick sense of delight at everything that went down. you should be mortified at letting him pry his way into your heart so easily, for letting your walls down so quickly despite having spent five years building them up. 

but now that everything was said and done, all you wanted in that moment was for him to lay down again so you could crawl back into his arms and feel his heartbeat against your bare body. that was the kind of man akira kurusu was. you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away from him for too long, no matter what you tried. you two were meant to be, no matter how much that sentiment had hurt you whenever you were young.

akira mumbles something about getting ready to clean you up, and you gingerly let yourself flop back down on his bed. fatigue seeps quickly into you. too much happened all at once that night, and no matter how much you fought through the fog in your head to make sense of everything, you remember very little after a certain point.

…

…

…

the appetizing scent of curry and coffee greets you when you slowly let your eyelids flutter open. you’re still naked, and the blanket covering you is light and cool. a gentle stream of sunlight tiptoes through the bedroom, and you stir, suddenly aware of how sleep-logged and heavy your body feels. still, it feels nice when you stretch your arms and legs, before realization slams into your consciousness like a sack of bricks.

you shoot upright, and your back immediately screams out in pain. 

fuck. you messed up. you messed up big time.

you scramble to the edge of the bed, and in the corner, your clothes are freshly laundered and folded up. uncertainty gnaws at your stomach, and you rush to get dressed, haphazardly dragging your clothes over your head and slithering into whatever you had on last night. there’s no sign of akira anywhere, at least inside the bedroom, but this place is very much not your room nor your bed, so it has to be akira’s.

it was one thing to go out to dinner with akira and go back to his place for a cup of coffee. it was another to somehow end up having sex with him and passing out in his bed as if you two were actually lovers. you want to slap yourself in the face as the mortification fully settles in. you had only wanted closure last night, and now you don’t know what to make of the situation. things just got messy way too fast; you never had intended on sleeping with him, let alone letting him fuck you raw and creampie you.

you have half a mind to make a run straight for his front door, but when you crack his bedroom door open, you can hear humming and the clattering of plates from the kitchen. you shyly pad out into his hallway and towards where the noise is coming from. whatever foolish hopes you had of making a clean getaway were gone the moment you woke up, clearly having slept in from how much sunlight was pouring in through all of the windows. the very least you could do was maybe thank him for taking care of you last night and apologize for staying the night unexpectedly.

“oh!” akira whirls around with a pan in his hand. surprise blooms on his face, but he quickly smiles at you. “you’re up already! was i too loud? here, why don’t you take a seat at the table? i was hoping i could wake you up with breakfast already prepared, but i guess you beat me to it.”

heat pricks at your cheeks. you want to decline his offer, but the scent of food hits far stronger now that you’re close to the source. you’re begrudgingly reminded of how hungry you are when your stomach practically yowls, so you hang your head and shuffle awkwardly over to take a seat at his dining table. at the center is a small box of contraception and a glass of water, clearly meant for you, and you’re rendered shy again at how far ahead akira is compared to you.

he must have woken up early to have run to the store for plan b and to have enough time to basically cook up a whole meal for you. you don’t have to wait long before akira proudly presents you with a plate of hot rice and curry, followed by a mug of coffee prepared the way you like it best.

“eat. you’ll need the energy if you’re going to be taking the pill,” he encourages you. he presses a spoon into your hand, and you say a quick word of thanks before digging into the food. you’re not sure if it’s because he’s a good chef or if it’s because you’re ravenous, but you make quick work of breakfast. akira laughs softly at how you’re wolfing down your food and reminds you to chew, but before either of you know it, both of your plates are empty and a strained silence lingers above your heads.

“um…” you glance nervously at him. “i can do your dishes before i leave. and- um- please let me know how much i owe you for everything. i really should be on my way…”

“do my dishes? owe me anything?” the dark-haired man looks at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “are you in a rush to go somewhere?”

you should lie and tell him you have a prior appointment. if you’re smart, you would have hopped on the closest train that’ll take you far far away from this dangerous man. but clearly you aren’t as smart as you believe yourself to be, given how many times you chose against the “smarter” option to land yourself where you are now. what’s one more indulgent mistake?

“not… necessarily.” you don’t know how to tell him that you’re not sure how to face everything now. it’s impossible to close the gap of five years in just one hookup, no matter how much your hearts might have both yearned for it. there’s a lot of heavy emotional work left to be done if you want something meaningful to come out of it, and you can’t deny the fact that akira has objectively hurt you by disappearing from your life five years ago. 

but when he reaches over the dining table to take your hand and squeeze it encouragingly, your resolve can only hold strong for so long. you peer up from where you’re staring down at your lap. his beautiful doe eyes are looking straight at you, and your heart throbs painfully inside of your chest. 

you want him. you want this. you want all of it to work out, somehow. 

“if there’s no hurry,” he murmurs soothingly, “stay a while. we have so much we have to catch up on.”

you want to believe in the good. in the worthwhile. in the in-betweens and the gray spaces and the happy endings that are still in the making. it might not have been there the last time, but things have changed, regardless of whether or not you’re willing to accept. with his hand intertwined with yours, this newfound tension hanging between the two of you, maybe it’s time for you to close the gap that had been plaguing you for so long.

this time, you won’t be alone.

author's note: wowee two fics from user pparadiselost within a week!!! i know, i know i have the most random posting schedule oopsie,,,, (//ω//) this fic is dedicated to @clubkira and was inspired by her lovely selfship with akira kurusu! i hope you all enjoyed reading, and if you want to show some appreciation, please consider donating to the humanitarian cause in gaza!!

[maner5]

Succubus

Summary: Ren wakes up in the middle of a wet dream to find that he has a succubus on top of him sucking his cock.

Warnings: blowjob, unprotected sex, overstimulation, some somnophilia(?), corruption kink (only mentioned), and I think that's all, I don't know what else to put here lol

English is not my native language, so probably the grammar of some parts is not perfect, thanks for your understanding.

It was after three in the morning as Ren's sleeping body let out some heavy sighs and moaned slightly.

He finally opened his eyes to find a person on top of him with her face between his legs as they was licking his cock.

— Eh?! — Ren was startled and moved a few centimeters away from the person, his eyes got used to the little light that was there but enough thanks to a lamppost that was just outside Leblanc that allowed him to see that the person was a woman — Oh, you woke up — you said to the surprise of seeing Ren awake.

— Who are you and what are you doing? — Ren said slightly defensively as he tried to cover himself with the sheets.

— I was blowing you duh, and by the way, I'm a succubus — you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world while gently pulling Ren's sheet off him

— I think my dream has become very realistic — you laughed at Ren's commentary

— Oh, sweetie, I'm more real than you think — you got close enough to Ren to wrap your hand around his still hard cock and lightly caress his glans with your thumb causing Ren to let out a heavy sigh — I just went out and found this cute boy to fuck

— Aha, so you were planning to fuck me while I was sleeping? and then steal my soul or something like that? — he said while trying to ignore the fact that you were still grabbing his cock.

— ha ha, I see you know a little bit about succubus, yes, we like to collect souls — you said while tracing circles with your finger on his hip bone — but we only do it if the sex was bad and we didn't recharge enough energy

Ren looked at the clothes you were wearing, your black leather shorts at the hip that barely covered your ass, and your tight top with a heart on the chest that perfectly contoured your tits — and was it bad that I woke up? — he gulped as he noticed the little horns on your head, the tail that twisted playfully and the little wings sticking out of your back.

— Actually, no — you got close enough to Ren to put your index finger on his lips — now we can have more fun.

One kiss, one kiss was enough to make Ren feel weak without him understanding why, enough to barely be able to prop himself up on his elbows as he watched you lick his cock — Easy, honey, my saliva makes people weak and lewd.

You wrapped his cock between your hand again and swallowed the pre-seminal fluid from his tip as you pumped it slowly, Ren only reacted with heavy sighs and a few inaudible moans, as you now licked his balls you felt Ren's cock twist in your hand, you took one of his balls into your mouth and jerked your mouth slightly.

Your mouth made a little "plop" as you pulled his dick out of your mouth — stop holding back — You complained when you saw that Ren was still holding back, but even if he wanted to give himself totally to you he couldn't, the whole situation was too unreal to assimilate. But you were determined to make him a bunch of moans and whimpers

You took your time playing with his cock, you tried to memorize everything, its taste, its size, its shape, the veins it had, you went through every millimeter enjoying it totally — Ah, you're going to drive me crazy… more, please — Ren brought his hand to his face. Hearing him asking you for more made you feel victorious, you shoved his cock all the way down your throat while using your hands to play with his balls, in no time Ren was fucking your mouth.

You squeezed him lightly with your lips while using your tongue, you were desperate to taste his sticky delicious white nectar that when he cummed you swallowed it without hesitation, it tasted so good you were eager for more.

Ren sat up and with a quick movement you took the opportunity to remove his black t-shirt, the light coming through the window allowed you to see the toned body he was hiding under those clothes, you had definitely won the lottery with him. Ren didn't look at you when you slipped your arms behind his neck as you straddled him — Don't you think I deserve a compliment? — you pouted slightly when you noticed he still didn't look at you.

— That wasn't bad — he said lowly and finally turned to look at you, but it wasn't your eyes he saw, he noticed how your nipples were now showing through the fabric and that didn't go unnoticed by you

— ah — you removed your hands from Ren's neck to take off your top — I guess it's my turn — Ren blushed but kept looking shamelessly at your now bare breast, you laughed at that — don't be shy — you took his hands to put them on your boobs — you can touch — you said with a teasing smile while looking him in the eyes

You didn't expect Ren to jump on your neck just as you didn't expect him to squeeze your tits roughly, you shuddered at his touch, especially when he started playing with your nipples and pinching them while he gave you a hickey on your neck and then lightly biting the place where he left his mark. He started to move down leaving kisses along the way, pausing momentarily at your collarbones to let out a sigh that made you tingle but at the same time you were excited to feel his breath. He licked your nipples as his hands traveled from your waist to your ass, he squeezed your ass hard as he felt your nails dig into his back after he bit your nipples, after leaving several marks on your chest he pulled away to observe how pretty his marks looked on your body (plus he didn't know how to continue). You noticed his little experience with women and the idea of teaching him until you totally corrupted him excited you, you lightly scratched his chest and moved in to kiss him, he wasn't bad but he could definitely improve, you were already getting the idea that after that night you could come back to teach Ren how you like things, you ran your fingernails down his spine from bottom to top making his cock harden again.

You felt Ren start to rub against you desperate to get friction another way, you pulled away from him to whisper in his ear — you're so needy, so cute, how long has it been since you've masturbated? — you laughed lightly as you began to slowly masturbate him.

— It's your fault… It's because of your saliva — he said between half-hearted sighs, you were a little annoyed that Ren kept holding back, you were so eager to hear his moans that in just one movement you shoved his cock all the way in, you arched your back as you felt him fill you while digging your fingernails into his back. Finally, you finally managed to get a moan out of Ren. Eager to hear him moan just for you you started to move, you jumped on his cock so happily and loved the noise the clash of your bodies produced. Ren would let out an almost inaudible moan or two but for the moment you didn't care, it felt so damn good, it was great, the sounds of his balls colliding with you, his hands on your ass and his eyes that kept watching your tits bounce, it all felt so good that you didn't stop until you felt Ren's cock twist inside you, then you stopped suddenly and started going at an insufferably slow pace (at least for Ren) who looked at you and with his agitated voice asked — Why are you stopping?

You moved closer to his ear — tell me what you want — you were liking to play with him, you wanted to have him begging you to fuck him

It took a few seconds before Ren spoke — I want…. you to make me cum

— okie, darling ♡ — you resumed the rhythm from before but now Ren was also using his hands to get deeper inside you, you squeezed him so hard that he started to let out some moans because of how good it felt to be inside you, you wanted his cum now inside you that you increased the speed until Ren abruptly pulled you down just as he came inside you, cumming both at the same time, you felt your insides warm as Ren clung to your body with his forehead on your shoulder as he tried to catch his breath, finally he stopped hugging you and you pushed him lightly to the mattress — your cum is of exceptional quality, maybe I'll come back later to taste you again, besides. .. you're not bad at all— you took the time to observe his naked torso, you wished the light was stronger to appreciate it better but you still traced lines with your index finger on his abdomen while biting your lip.

You leaned over him distributing kisses on his chest until you started playing with his nipples, you kissed them, licked, sucked and finally bit them while your hands caressed his torso, Ren was now sensitive and you could hear him moan a little more with each bite and feel him shuddering from your hands running over his torso, you moved closer to his face to look into his eyes, Ren had a look of slight alertness in his eyes because he knew what you were up to. It still wasn't enough for you — ah, no, I won't be able to take this one more time — despite his words he showed no great resistance to your kiss.

It was a messy and very wet kiss, your tongues crashed against each other and you could feel Ren hardening inside you again, you pulled away from him to jump on his cock again, in the room you could hear only the lewd noises you both produced, the clashing of your skins, your moans with each thrust and the now also uncontrollable moans and grunts coming from Ren's throat, you increased your pace until Ren was cumming inside you again, you stood up throwing your head back as you let out a high pitched moan. You stayed with him inside you as you felt his cum dripping from your pussy, Ren fell asleep almost immediately after you finally pulled his big cock out of you, you shuddered from the sudden emptiness.

You stared for a moment at that sleeping boy you just fucked, he was handsome and with a good body, he had awakened something inside you, you definitely wanted to keep doing this with him, his semen was quality but even more important, he seemed to be a blank canvas to mold him how you liked the most.

Normally you should have left after what had just happened, maybe it was best for him to think it was all a dream when he woke up, maybe. Instead you decided to stay there, you had eaten too well that you were now tired and sleepy, you just wiped the little bit of cum that was left on his cock and swallowed it, you arranged his pants and lay down next to him, you didn't bother to clean yourself or put your top back on, you just draped one of your arms over him, covered him and yourself with the sheet and fell asleep next to that cute boy.

₊°︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ .˚♡˚.

Ren was startled to see a half-naked girl with horns, wings and tail sleeping so peacefully next to him, his eyes repaired in all the marks he left on your chest and neck realizing that it was not a dream, everything was real and somehow he liked to know that everything was real.

♡｡·*·｡·*·｡·*·｡·*·｡· ♡ ·｡·*·｡·*·｡·*·｡·*·｡♡

I thought this would be shorter, I wrote this in the new year, literally had one hand in porn and one hand making dinner lmao, anyway thanks for reading ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

[k4marina]

too far in || j.r

for that anon that requested this, i like the way you think. ;)

synopsis: just a snippet of your relationship with the joker

warnings: joker (bc he deserves his own warning), sexual/suggestive themes, angst ig, my spelling probably.

fem!reader x joker

you really couldn't pinpoint when or how it started. it's almost as if he'd always been there; by your side in your bed. you knew it was wrong. having these.. relations with gothams most wanted was a sure way of having either gcpd on your front door or batman, and if the time came you hoped it was the former.

tonights no exception either. it's late, way past anyones bedtime. you're in your bed, sleeping after a long day of work when you felt the bed dip. something that always left you mesmerized was how he never made a sound. you'd only know he was there if he wanted it to be known, otherwise he would just blend into the shadows.

no words are exchanged, you don't need too. you both know what he wants and you have not problem giving it to him after all, you want it too.

he slips in you so easily like all the other times. his cut and callused hands sending shivers throughout your body, jagged nails gripping onto your flesh.

his hips are rutting into yours, leaving you breathless. depending on the time of night or on how much energy you both had it was either slow and somewhat meaningful or crude and animalistic, you just couldn't decide which one you'd prefer.

the only sounds he would make would be low groans and pants or the occasional dirty talk or instructions, never being one to make useless chit-chat, "that's it baby, right there," "what a filthy cunt, just taking my cock in" "imagine what people would say if they found out what we were doing."

you on the other hand were left hot and bothered. moaning whenever he'd hit that right spot, whimpering when his nails or sometimes teeth would clamp down on you, whining every time he'd finish and leave you empty.

when you wake up he's never there, but you know that he was by the smears of red and black grease paint on the pillow next to you. you'd push down the hurt you'd feel in your chest. it's okay. it's for the better. anything more or with him and your life is basically ruined.

but you knew, you were far too deep into him.

[frickingnerd]

munehisa iwai nsfw headcanons

pairing: munehisa iwai x gn!reader

tags: dominant!iwai, mention of gunplay, safe words, rough!iwai

iwai is absolutely a dom and the chance that he'll sub for you is almost zero!

he just isn't the type to give up control and he wouldn't enjoy himself if he leaned back and let you take control for the night

iwai cares a lot about your pleasure, but most of the time, he'll be pent up and needy when he gets home, so he'll take out some stress by fucking you, before focusing on your pleasure during the second round

iwai doesn't have any extravagant kinks and prefers what he views as “traditional kinks”

though, due to his line of work, gunplay has crossed his mind before… yet iwai isn't sure how to feel about it, as he really doesn't want to hurt you!

though if you insist, he'll play the role of the villain for a night and let you pick out a gun you like, without any bullets inside, as he gives gunplay a try!

iwai is very adamant about having a safe word and knowing your boundaries, before the two of you try anything risky!

again, he really doesn't want to hurt you! so he's as careful as he can be, without spoiling the fun for the two of you

iwai can be coerced into trying out most kinks with you, if you beg hard enough. he has some limits he won't change his mind about, but he's open to at least discuss your kinks!

[glowingbadger]

I'm dying to know any/all of your sexy Abbachio headcannons, but specifically F, X, and Y for the alphabet! (If any of those have been done already feel free to replace with another letter you want to do more!)

Man I really am realizing that when it comes to Jojo men, my favs are always the most miserable and bitchy lmao God I love Abbacchio.

Alphabet prompts - Abbacchio (JJBA)

F (favorite position), X (x-ray), Y (yearning)

NSFW 18+

Favorite position: Oh, Abbacchio loves to bend you over the furniture. He likes sex to be involved and a bit strenuous when possible- just enough to exert himself a bit, getting really physical and absorbing both his mental and physical energy. It helps shut up the noise of his thoughts a bit, to lose himself in some involved erotic scenario he's swept you up into. So while he can and will certainly enjoy you laid across his bed (especially if there's some other intriguing element at play- a bit of role play, some handcuffs, some sensory play, etc.), his favorite is to grab onto you, push you down over a countertop or desk or anything, and fuck you until your legs shake and he's the only thing keeping you in place.

X-ray: His overall physique certainly isn't hard to imagine, given his usual torso-bearing fashion sense. Abbacchio is in shockingly great shape for someone with an (almost) entirely non-combat Stand- but that just means that when it's time to throw down, he needs to be able to do it with his own physical body. As such, he's hard, carved muscle all over, and well-kept skin and hair to boot. He keeps his pubic hair shaved to a narrow, tapered strip down to his cock- which is a solid, somewhat-above average size and girth. Just a perfect size to get you that delicious stretch without hurting you too badly, and the head has a wonderful thickness to it that strokes against all sorts of sensitive spots as he thrusts.

Yearning: Abbacchio's sex drive is a powerful thing- as mentioned above, in addition to the physical pleasure (and a longing for you in particular that he struggles to verbalize), it's one of the only ways he finds he can really clear his head. Rather than quietly pining, he's direct and straightforward about when he wants you. You'll feel it immediately in how he kisses you- deep and erotic and forceful, a hand tangled in your hair to direct your lips to his while the other grabs a shameless handful of your ass -and he knows exactly what he does to you when he kisses you like that. He'll often be away for days or weeks at a time for "work," so when he's able to be home with you, he'll have you nearly every night if you indulge him.

[love-toxin]

Joker from persona 5 for the smut alphabet with a gn reader if i may ask lovely 🌹

ohhhhh u got me in a p5 mood babey!!!! <33

joker [akira kurusu] - (a-z)

(cws: gn!reader, various kinks, roleplay, very few minor spoilers, couple mentions of body insecurity, ambiguously post-canon, dirty talk, mild possessiveness, gags, a bit of public indecency.)

A = Aftercare

Such a cuddler. He's clinging to you before you've even caught up with that last big gasp your orgasm punched out of you, snuggled right up to your side with his arms around you to ease you back down from that near-unreachable high. He holds you so tight and so warm in his chest, squeezing you just hard enough not to hurt but to comfort--and as soon as you're calm enough for him to get up, he slips down into the cafe to make you some tea and fix you a little snack. He'll even run out to the grocery store down the alley if it's still open, if you ask him for something he doesn't have on hand. No gesture is too much work for his baby, and he's never too tired to do something that will make you smile.

B = Bondage

Tying you up? Yeah, he likes it--more than he should, he feels. It's kind of strange to think of himself as a kinky person, he feels a bit like a pervert in that sense, but the thrill he gets out of binding your arms back and leaving you helpless before him is totally undeniable. He likes that you can't cover your face to hide those pretty expressions he draws out of you, and he loves hearing you beg to touch him back with a blindfold snug over your eyes. You don't even know what you want, you can't tell where the pleasure's gonna come from next and you couldn't prepare for it even if you did--you just turn into a sweet, needy mess that just has to lay back and be worshipped, and what's not to like about that?

C = Cum

He cums a lot, much more than average, and he's pretty aware of it even though he's relatively inexperienced. It's potent and probably an effect of his persona's power since he never really noticed it before, but either way it just gushes out of him like a firehouse and it's pretty hard to control. He makes such a mess whenever he tries to pull out and shoot one out on your legs or your tummy, but your face is always a huge casualty too. It gets in your eyelashes, your hair, down your chin, your brows, just everywhere. He's like a one-man bukkake, and while it's something he's a little insecure about it's honestly impressive. It's pretty cute when he apologizes for it too, and blabbers on about how you just sounded and looked so adorable that he couldn't help himself...

D = Dirty Secret

If you were really insecure in the beginning of your relationship and had a hard time relaxing while doing the deed, Akira has gone into Mementos alone and searched out your shadow to see if he could help you from the inside out. His reassurances never seemed to go anywhere and since you always ended up feeling worse for not being able to just enjoy yourself (probably because of some insensitive comment from an ex or just self-esteem in general), he knew it had to be something deeper that maybe he could help you with. He really wasn't expecting your shadow self to spill your guts to him at the first sight of him without any battling necessary, and he also wasn't expecting that questionably hot dark version of you to paw at him and push him down to climb on top--but since it seemed to help you tremendously in real life, Akira secretly heads down to Mementos whenever you get stuck in a depressioned rut, and fucks that other self of yours stupid to remind the real you of how gorgeous and absolutely desirable he finds you.

E = Experience

Akira hasn't got too much experience with intimacy itself. He's rarely ever had crushes, even, up until he met you--and after you, he never found the same feelings welling up inside when he thought about anyone else. Before you dated and when he was in that phase of just crushing hard, he tried time and time again to turn his affections elsewhere so as to not ruin your precious friendship by confessing one-sidedly. But that only made him realize that you really were the only one for him, and he would never want anyone else except for you. How could anyone even try to measure up, let alone compare? You're just perfect.

F = Favourite Position

Missionary man all the way. He likes other positions but none feel as intimate to him, he likes the hitch of your legs around his waist and the untouchable closeness of being chest to chest and mouth to mouth as he makes love to you. Plus your hands on his back accelerate the experience for him, being surrounded by you and cushioned by your body and inside you all at once....it's a dream that he would never trade for anything. But of course, he's not entirely close-minded; he's definitely willing to experiment if his angel wishes for it to be so, he would be absolutely tickled pink to sit and listen to you talk with a hot face as you explain to him what you want him to do to you, how you want him to move you, and how you want him to take you.

G = Gloat

He's not really a mean kind of person (not unless it's directed towards someone who seriously deserves it) so it doesn't come out too much in the bedroom, or in any aspect of your relationship. But he does get possessive, and he has a habit of letting his stream of consciousness spill out in a murmur right next to your ear, all while he pins you where he wants you and gives you something to moan about. "Nobody gets to have you like this but me. You think I would ever give you away? No, precious. Never. You'd have to kill me before another man puts his hands on you, and even then they'd never take care of you as good as I do. Only I can make you cum the way you need."

H = Hair

He's just really not a hairy guy, he's got some bush and a bit on the undercarriage but he shaves it to the point that it's pretty sparse, but what he does have is quite dark and wiry. So if he ever did leave it untamed you'd be in for quite the jungle to cut through, but even so he'd at least trim it for you because he's a gentleman. And on the flipside, his inexperience means he doesn't know really know what to expect, so whatever you choose to do with your own hair is just what he assumes is normal. He has no business telling you to grow it or shave it, and he wouldn't because would it really make any difference? Your hair or lack thereof isn't what attracted him to you so it really doesn't have any bearing in the grand scheme of things.

I = Intoxication

Not much of a drinker, but if you have a night out with his friends from high school he can get quite clingy with a drink or two in him. Twirling a piece of your hair around his finger and mumbling in your ear about when you can go home, or just when you can find a place to sneak off--no, he's not too drunk, he can be quiet while you play with him. He promises. (Lie) His friends are definitely gonna hear you giving him brain in the bathroom at the bar, and it's gonna be quite the awkward situation to come back to with Akira's fumbling and his red cheeks and Ryuji laughing his ass off in a half-shocked half-congratulatory reaction.

K = Kiss

J = Jack off

Not a big self-pleasurer. Porn isn't really his thing, in video form or in magazines, and with his open-concept room he's quite aware of the lack of privacy that might compromise an unsuspecting visitor's image of him. Plus he's got a hard time controlling his volume. So if he does do it, he keeps it short and sweet, but when you're dating he usually just saves it for when you're over or you have a bit of time to sneak away for a rendezvous. You make him feel better than touching himself alone does anyways.

He's not a kissy person in a public setting, really he can barely hold your hand in public without getting flustered. But that shyness goes out the window the moment you're alone, when nobody's around to see it Akira could spend the rest of his life just planting soft, fluttering kisses all up and down your body. He especially likes to kiss your hands and your knuckles, and especially when he's buried inside you and looking down on that sweet face that makes him so, so happy. He'll just take your hand and bring it to his lips, squeezing your interlaced fingers and planting kisses on each knuckle until you're squirming and warm under the constant attention. He loves to feel you clenching down on him when he does that, it makes it feel even more special and so much more passionate.

L = Lazy

If he's too tired or if you feel like doing all the work, he's happy albeit a little shyer than usual to let you get on top and ride him. He tries to beg you to sit on his face instead, he doesn't want you to see how red he's gonna get and how pathetic he'll look when he gets to watch you....but he'll probably lose like he usually does against you, and you'll get to watch that pretty face contort in all sorts of ways as you bring him to his end faster and even harder than usual.

M = Marking

He'll leave some scratches and a few bruises here and there, but never anything too severe or sore. He does enjoy it when you drag your nails down his back though, he wants to see those raised streaks of red in the mirror the next morning and know that he fucked you good, good enough for some of them to bleed. It's an almost masochistic kind of pleasure that he's not sure of where it stems from, but he likes it and it makes him happy so it really doesn't matter all that much.

N = CNC

It's not something he's ever really considered, but he might enjoy playing out a scenario while he's donning his Joker costume. The masked hero taking his reward from an adorable victim who owes him their life....yeah, that's not a bad idea at all. Especially if you whimper out those little cries of "This is wrong, sir!" while you moan at the same time, that really revs some kind of desire he didn't know he had. He always ends up turning a little soft in the end and dropping the act when he's ready to cum--that's when he's so vulnerable that he just wants the affection of his angel and nothing else.

O = Oral

Again, pretty inexperienced in this avenue, but he really wants to practice and try it out to get better. He wants you to love having his head between your thighs, he wants to be known for it--he wants you to quiver when he suggests giving you head, and fold when he looks in your direction and makes a gesture that lets you know exactly where he wants to put his mouth. Having you grip his hair and hump his face because you can't get enough is his dream, and he's determined to make it a reality. Especially since you seem to be effortlessly good at it, either because he's extra sensitive or because you just know all the things he likes and every button to push to have him spurting ropes down your throat in minutes. He wants to get that same reaction out of you, he's got to.

P = Panties

Honestly he really likes the idea of fucking you while you're wearing his clothes. Or jerking him off with your hands donning his infamous gloves. But as far as underwear goes, he likes licking you over it and leaving a big wet patch from his spit in the fabric as you tremble and start messing it all up, especially when he pulls away and you just whine that he's a tease as you start touching yourself under it. It's such an easy way to have you looking all cute and clingy and staining your clothes like he's marking his territory.

Q = Quickie

You'd think he wouldn't be too fond of potentually exposing himself in public, but quickies are one of those things that he feels so dirty doing it actually leads him to doing it more. He's definitely humped your throat in an alleyway a couple times, and even let you ride him atop the ceiling of a palace or somewhere deep and hidden in Mementos while the others look for him. Mostly cause it's fun, but also because it really turns him on to think that you're needy enough that you'd urge him to do something so indecent that could get you both in so much trouble--and because he loves you, he simply has no choice but to satiate you when you need to be serviced. Ah, what a regrettable, yet unavoidable curse!

R = Risk

There's not much of a risk factor with him, he plays things pretty safe even when you're doing things in a bit of an impromptu manner. Teasing him about doing things a little more raw after you get married is a one-way ticket to flustering him though, and giving him the idea of not using a condom or not pulling out because you're completely devoted to each other....it's a dangerous thought. It's so intimate and you've only done that a couple times, so thinking about doing it all the time and leaving you leaking and full of his seed just shifts something around in his brain and makes him totally sensitive and shy until he gets it out of his system. Besides, a lot of that comes from you suggesting the two of you having a wedding and him being your husband--how is he supposed to react when that's his deepest desire and something he's already saving up for?

S = Spit

He likes having you clean his cock with your spit, and he gets unfathomably dirty with it if you let him run with it. Mutters on about how "You left my lap all sticky, go ahead and clean it up for me." with a hand perched in your hair. He sticks his fingers in your mouth and shifts them around like he's doing an inspection before he lets you lower your mouth to his dick, and it's all to have you salivating so your tongue's nice and wet when you move to lick your own cum off his glistening shaft. Make it as wet and sloppy as possible, and he'll reward those dripping, swollen lips with as many kisses you can handle--on both ends, no less.

T = Toys

Absolutely no idea what he's doing with them. If you explain to him that they help you get where you need to go, so to speak, then he'll be happy to explore them a little more with you. You'll have to introduce him slowly cause it intimidates him a little, especially if you're more familiar with them than he is--but once he gets a handle on them, he actually turns into kind of a pervert about it. He'll buy you something new that he wants to try together or just something he knows will make you cum really fast, and he always, always wants you to demo them for him. Show him how good you feel with them, won't you? He's gotta know if they work so he can take them back if they don't. Has to be a diligent customer, right? So don't be shy about telling him everything you're feeling when you touch yourself with it for him to watch.

V = Volume

U = Unfair

That quiet nature masks the biggest tease on earth, you could swear he's like another person when you're alone or when you're with his friends. From making dirty jokes to placing a well-timed hand on your thigh during a group conversation over dinner, Akira teases you like it's his day job and he always reaps the benefits as much as he pays the consequences. As possessive as he can get when he really gets into that mood, a plea from Yusuke to make a nude painting of you will get a burst of laughter out of your boyfriend, before he playfully jokes that he could stand in and describe you to him instead because he knows you inside and out. A playful shove and a chorus of giggles and lighthearted scolding from Ann for being a pervert later, and Akira will be on top of you in his bed with lust-filled eyes and a whispered promise that he'll never let someone else peek at you under your clothes. "That's all for me, isn't it sweetheart?"

He likes to think he's quiet but he's really not. You can hear him moaning from the bottom floor of Leblanc if he's touching himself while waiting for you to arrive, and you just have to thank the powers that be that he never does it while the café is open, lest he get the most embarrassing lecture from Sakura that would just burn him alive. Gagging him with your underwear or a hanky is really the only option if you want to take things elsewhere or if there's people around, or else bystanders are gonna get some pretty visceral descriptions about how hard Akira's gonna cum for you and exactly how soft and tight you are as you're squeezing his cock.

W = Wildcard

His favourite way to receive head is to be on top. It's weird, at least he thinks so, but he just really like the idea of straddling your shoulders, hunching over you to clutch a pillow in his arms above your head, and slowly rock his hips to plunge his cock down your throat in a steady rhythm. You can't move, can't get up, can't even speak in this position, all you can do is spit and choke and gag when he gives you a spare moment to breathe, but it's all at his command, all at his leisure. He likes the thought of possibly falling asleep while he's nestled so deep inside you, and pinning his hips to your poor face as you're forced to lay there and just suckle on it until he cums hard enough to wake up. It's quite the vulnerable position, but if you ever agreed to try it with him, he might just die out of pure adoration and worship you to the heavens.

X = X-Ray

Smooth and unblemished. It's mostly on the straight side with a bit of a curve down, and not too slim but he's got some heft packed on to the underside that makes it feel a lot heavier. The tip has a deeper ridge that you really feel when he first pushes in, deep enough that it catches when he pulls out too and makes it feel like he's suctioned tight inside you and can't pull out without some force. But that also makes it easier for him to plug you up with cum, and when he does unhitch himself, he always leaves it spilling out quickly and making a right mess all over your poor legs. His balls aren't huge or especially heavy, but they're shockingly soft and pretty smooth and almost artistic in the way they rest against your backside when he's nestled in deep inside you. Also very, very sensitive, and you can feel them twitch whenever he cums as they tighten up and then relax once his cum starts pumping out and easing the pressure. He mumbles about how dirty you are when you lick them because of how your head's positioned, but you both know he loves it and it makes him even cuddlier and needier with you after he cums.

Y = Yearning

Nothing turns him on like you calling him your hero. Teasingly or seriously, it stirs something inside him that can't be ignored--he promises to be your hero always, to do the right thing and to rescue you whenever you need saving, wherever either of you may be. But it's a little more flustering when he makes those promises with a husky voice by your ear and his cock straining his pants, cause you'll know exactly what he means when he asks if, as your hero, he might have a reward from his helpless, darling little civilian that owes him their life.

Z = Zzz

He prefers to sleep through the night but he doesn't fall asleep too quickly after sex, although it's a different story if you wake up next to him and notice him humping his pillow or the sheets--or your leg, if he's situated just right. Sometimes he's awake and just didn't want to wake you, and sometimes he's asleep and just having a really good dream. Either way, you have full and expressed consent to hump him right back if you want to, or just push your pajama bottoms down and let your boyfriend sleepily push his cock inside to keep it warm. He'll try his best not to cum, but no promises, okay?

[kiaroscuro]

how do people feel about a zombie au that's less about the zombies and more about the Journey back to Tokyo with only the clothes in your bag and the persona you hold in your heart? Set against the melancholy of loss and the horrors that humans bring forth during the apocalypse while you just try to untangle your feelings regarding everything?

and which was supposed to be only a few pages of scribbles while I work out my latest scene in YCmS bc I'm stuck once more, but which evolved into a fucking beast once more??

Featuring scavenging for clothes in an abandoned supermarket! And human zombies! Scavenging for food in a supernatural zombie-forest! Survivors banding together! Zombie shadows! And Ren, Arsene, and his trusty sniper rifle that he looted from the dead! As a tumblr fic 'cause I've never tried that and it might be fun :D

[rpking99]

Persona Part 2

Persona 5

Joker/Rin Amamiya (genderbent)

So, I always thought that Joker should have got a FeMC equivilant with Royal. And when Violet was revealed, I thought it was her. Now, I am not a big fan of her in Royal so I am using her as the 'face' for Female Joker. Partially because there is more fanart of her so more options

Joker is the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Arrested for a crime she didn't commit, she and her fellow thieves use the Metaverse to combat the manipulations of those who distort the world and change peoples hearts. Joker is a bit self conscious, but hides it behind her confident smirk and what could only be described unironically as 'swag'

Panther/Ann Takamaki

Panther is a model. Having been abused by her gym coach, Ann slowly grew into herself again after an incident with her best friend. Planning on becoming an actress the sex confident blonde is ready to face the world

Queen/Makoto Nijima

Queenis the teams strategist and leader of the team. A year older than the ithere. She use to be nothing but a doormat for authority, now she is ready to do what is right. A bit socially awkward, Makoto is confident in growing as a person. And she knows how to kick your ass

Oracle/Futaba Sakurai

Oracle, Futaba, is a big nerd and a year younger than Joked. Her mother died in front of her at a young age, and the guilt and lies that filled Futaba made her deeply repressed. She can best be described as a cinnamon bun chaotic gremlin highbrid. She is also Joker's little sister figure as Joker is staying with Futaba's adopted dad Sojiro, the man acting as Rin's guardian, and Rin and Futaba have formed a sibling-like bond

Noir/Haru Okumura

Haru Okumara, Noir, is the same age as Makoto. Big into gardening, she is the heir (slash is the CEO) of Okumara Foods after her father died. While having a sadistic side in combat, she is the 'team mother' and the sweetest thing around

Crow/Gina Akechi (Genderbent)

Sadayo Kawakami/Becky

Ms Kawakami is a teacher at Shujin Academy, the school Joker and her friends attended during their first year as a team. Ms Kawakami is a very calm, kind, teacher who has to act as a maid in order to get extra money

Tae Takemi

Tae is a doctor who lives close to the Sakura family owned cafe, Lè Blanc, and is a regular customer. Her license was revoced because another doctor faked a patient's death, a patient who was given an experimental drug by Tae to the and cure a deadly disease. She is sex on legs and she knows it, confident and sassy with a dry wit

Sae Nijima/Shadow Sae

Sae is Makoto's big sister. She was a prosecuter, but after Persona 5 became a Defence Attorney. Confident, calm and collected. She basically raised Makoto. And she do what she can for her family to be safe

Justine and Caroline (Aged Up)

Lavenza (Aged Up)

Chihaya Mifune

Hifumi Togo

Ichiko Ohya

Shiho Suzui

Persona 5 Strikers

Sophia/Sophie

Alice Hiiragi/Shadow Alice

Persona 5 OC

Akari Amamiya

(face claim is the crossdressing design for Joker. The art works too well for a female Joker but I already have Rin...)

This OC is Akari Amamiya, Rin's own mother. A former prison warden, she and her husband went through a.... But of a rough patch because of the Shido incident. Her husband believing in their daughter being a deliquent and trouble maker. Let's just say... When Rin returned home, the house was one person short....

Akari works as a negotiator. Arriving for business deals, hostage negotiations, anything. Wearing a.... Modified version of her old outfit to add intimidation/to throw off the opposition, she has a near 100% rate of success in scoring her client the best result. The reason it's not 100% is because she will never screw over those being victimised. If she's hired to make a negotiation against a weaker party, she will do all in her power to make it better for them.

...

She also sells photos of herself on some 'adult' websites, but only pictures of herself wearing some form of cloths. Never naked

Total Muses: 18/19

[kirexa]

HOLY SHIT H.HII......

@2beat2heart

backstage

-

(redraw of twt user @/chuukiyo ‘s goth band au)

[no-144444]

first dinners- o.piastri

summary: being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig... only when your boss (/ father figure) isn't trying to interrogate your new boyfriend.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

part one | part two | part three

smut so mdni pls! 18+

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Las Vegas rolled around and you two had been texting back and forth and had even gotten a coffee together. He really liked you. You really liked him. As the paddock filled with people, and all eyes were on the battle between Norris and Verstappen, Oscar sneaking glances at the Mercedes garage went almost unnoticed by the media. He won the race with a 20 second gap from his adoptive father, with both Lando and Max having their races ruined by an accidental oversteer on Max’s end meaning that Lando was down in P5 after having to get his front wing replaced, while Max got taken out by the damage, meaning the championship battle was technically still on.

Oscar finally found you as you stood beside Jack, watching as George lifted his trophy. Oscar sent you a wink to which you smiled and waved, taking some sweet photos of him being celebrated. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

When he texted you to come to his hotel room, never did he ever think you’d be sucking his dick as a congratulations. For being a virgin, you were mentally experienced, or something. There he sat, on the bed, your head between his legs as his brain short-circuited at the way you were sucking him off. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, desperately trying to keep his hands to himself as he slowly lost control of his body. The mix of your mouth around his cock, the sound of you actually gagging on him, and your nails digging into his thigh made him want to cum right then and there, but he held off as long as he could, not wanting to end the night prematurely. “I’m gonna-fuck- I’m gonna-!”

And he came in your mouth. And you swallowed it. He looked down at you, a sultry smirk on your lips and he could’ve cum again. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You giggled. “Is that because I just sucked your dick?”

“N-no! I mean-” he stopped talking because you started laughing again.

“I’m kidding,” you smiled. “Thank you Oscar.”

He smiled, then pressed his lips to yours, pulling you closer to him. “Can I eat you out?” he mumbled between kisses. 

You were taken aback, someone so shy and reserved happily asking you something so crude out of nowhere. “Y-yeah.”

“Yeah?” he looked at you through hooded eyes. 

“Yeah.” 

“Fucking beautiful,” he smirked, lifting you up easily as he lay back (for someone so skinny, he really was strong) and sat you straddling his face. “Y’gonna ride my face?” His hands gripped onto your ass, almost bruising as you whimpered at his nose meeting with your clit. 

You didn’t answer, much too shocked and excited to speak. 

He slapped your ass and it made you lurch forward, grinding against his nose. You moaned out. “Yes! Y-yes Osc!”

“Good girl,” he smirked, and then dove in. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

When you woke up with his arms around you and a sore but satisfied feeling between your legs, you smiled. 

“Morning baby,” he smiled, noticing how you were finally opening your eyes. 

“Hey,” you grinned, stretching. 

“I hope you don’t think I called you here last night just to have sex with you, I really like you and I have for a long time and-” 

“Oscar, I’m the one that asked to suck your dick, you’re the one who asked me to sit on your face, we both knew what we were doing.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess,” he took a deep breath. “So can I be your boyfriend?”

You smiled. “Yeah, you can.”

He pressed his lips to yours again.

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Was Oscar scared for his life while outside of the McLaren Motorhome in the Qatar paddock? Yes, very much so. Was he even more scared when George texted him, asking him to dinner with Toto, Susie, Jack, you, Lewis, and him? Yes, very much so. 

He was terrified as he walked into the restaurant, a bunch of flowers in his hand, and his shirt was ironed. Oscar Jack Piastri had ironed his shirt. His mom would’ve been proud. When he saw Toto at a table for two, his face fell deeper into an expression of misery, and he somehow stopped himself from turning tail and running. 

“Oscar!” Toto cheered, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Come sit!”

He was being overly nice, but it was better than the other option, total and utter intimidation. “Hi Toto.”

He sat across from him, shaking his hand and placing the flowers beside him. 

“The others will be here in a while,” Toto explained. “I just wanted to chat to you one on one. Congratulations on your win, by the way.” 

Oscar nodded. “Thank you.”

“What are your intentions with Y/n?” 

Oh. Straight into it. 

“Date her?” he answered hesitantly. Toto sighed. Bad answer. 

“Y/n is a very special person, in a lot of people’s lives. I don’t want to see you hurting her because-”

“Oh my god! Toto! What the fu-hell are you doing?” you questioned, rushing over to the two of them. Oscar sighed in relief, glad that you were here to save him from Toto’s torment. “I knew you would pull something like this!”

“Ich stelle ein paar Fragen, das ist alles!” (I’m just asking some questions, that’s all) he huffed, getting up. “Es ist kein Problem, ja?” (It’s no problem, yes?) he looked at a very confused Oscar who just stood and nodded. “See! It’s fine!” 

“Toto, just let me live my own life, thank you very much. Also, I’ve known Oscar for much longer than you, and I can pick who I want to date, thank you very much,” you scoffed. You grabbed ahold of Oscar’s arm and he smiled, handing you the flowers he got you. 

“You look gorgeous,” he whispered as you two watched Susie and Toto arguing over his over-protective tendencies, with George and Lewis joining in when they arrived. 

“Thanks,” you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I can’t believe you ironed your shirt.”

He chuckled. “Thought I’d try to make a good impression.”

“Well, Toto thinks you’re a great driver, and Susie likes you mum. Good impression made.” 

He beamed at you as you chatted with Jack (who was holding your other hand) and made jokes about the situation at hand. 

When the 7 of you finally sat at your table and the arguing stopped, pleasant conversation flowed, but then George and Lewis had their turn at interrogating Oscar.

"What's her favourite colour?" George asked.

Oscar smiled. "She doesn't have one."

"Favourite flower?" Lewis questioned.

Oscar just pointed to the bouquet of your favourite flowers he'd gotten you earlier.

"Favourite F1 driver?"

The entire table chuckled at that.

"Are we going legacy or current?" Oscar asked.

"Legacy, then current," George decided.

"Legacy; Rosberg, current, Hamilton," he smirked and the two men applauded.

"Right, good enough for me," George announced.

"If you hurt her, I'll push you off the track," Lewis smiled dangerously as he shook his hand.

"Gosh I'm so glad we live in the 1800s," you scoffed, teasing the men. They just rolled their eyes as Susie and Jack laughed at your joke.

When the end night concluded after one too many embarrassing stories about you, you walked out with Oscar’s hand in your left, and Jack’s in your right. 

“Oscar,” Jack’s small voice rang out over the voices of the other people in the group. Oscar stopped and crouched down to hear him, and you snapped a quick photo, quickly putting it in your favourites. Your two boys. “I really like you, and Y/n really likes you. Please don’t make her sad.” 

Oscar’s heart swelled at his words, getting acknowledgement from Jack? The highest honour. He nodded, smiling. “I’d never dream of it.”

Jack’s lips broke out into a smile. “Good!” and he skipped ahead and took your hand once more, Oscar following suit. 

This really was the start of something great.

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[jamminvroomvroom]

die for you.

ln x driver!reader

in which you can’t stand each other, or so you say…

this took waaaay too long for me to hate it sm but she’s here! and she’s long! love this concept so much, thank you for this request. so many feels so many vibes, tell me what you think <3

loosely inspired by die for you by the weeknd

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, slight glimpses of she fell first, he fell harder, rivals to lovers/enemies to lovers, choking, hate sex? bar fight, mentions of blood

8.3k words (oop)

it’s rare that you miss a podium, so when you do, it tastes bitter and stings like a bitch.

the car has been on fire all season long, a thing of beauty in your calculated hands. so, the string of bad luck you’re enduring, small mistakes with big consequences, it’s quite the pill to swallow.

out of the car you jump, teeth grinding hard out of frustration. you could see the commotion ahead of you, members of the papaya team celebrating their driver. your eyes roll so hard in your head that you feel a lasting ache. you side step members of your team, dodging every single person that tries to talk to you, your comms officer knowing better than to try and engage with you. you know you’re being unreasonable, it was a p5 finish! but it isn’t a podium or a win, so quite frankly, you aren’t interested, and you certainly don’t have any energy left to hear how amazingly well he had driven.

lando fucking norris.

what was once quiet disdain had grown into fully fledged hatred and you fear you’ll be violently sick if you catch a single glimpse of him on the podium. sure, he’s talented, and sure, he’s beautiful, you suppose. that doesn’t mean you have to like him. not anymore. he lives under your skin, inescapable.

you struggle through every interview in the media pen, most of which dissect your recent fall from grace, your mouth forming a hard, unimpressed line every time they mention the orange goblin and his recent streak of podiums and good luck. you wish the journos would bring up his string of women and the probable plan b receipts that went with them. that, you would love to talk about.

you drive in silence back to your hotel, leaving the track as soon as possible, and quickly find solace in your bed for the night. the idea of seeing the inside of a club makes you nauseous after your epic downfall. as your eyes are drooping, your body going limp under the thick duvet, a knock sounds from the door.

“no.” you shout flatly, but the only response you get are giggles from the hallway. for fuck sake, you mutter, groaning as you shift out from beneath the covers and trail apprehensively towards the door.

george and alex appear before you, and you throw your head back is exasperation.

“mate, it’s 9:30.” alex laughs, taking in your fancy attire; pyjamas that you’ve had since you were 17.

“what’s your point?” you croak, glaring up at your obnoxiously tall friend.

“why aren’t you getting ready to go out?” george questions, leaning against the doorframe. he, too, was obnoxiously tall, you thought, feeling the strain in your neck as you move your glare onto him.

“if it wasn’t obvious, i’m not going.” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “i thought that was clear after i ignored all 77 of your texts.” you smile sarcastically, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

“don’t be boring! you’re an f1 driver, you’re in a cool city, you’re rich and, let’s face it,” he sasses. “you need to get laid.” alex says, like it’s the most causal thing in the world. your eyes bulge out of your head at the utterance of the last bit. george bites back laughter.

“choosing to ignore that.” you hiss. “i’m sorry but i refuse to go out and celebrate that arrogant, whiny little bitch.”

they both know exactly who you’re talking about.

you and lando have simply never seen eye to eye. your karting days were spent pushing one another off the track or into a muddy puddle if things got a bit heated out of the car. sure, olive branches were extended, and maybe adolescent feelings were secretly harboured, but he never gave you any reason to tell him that. you’d grown out of the childish violence when you graduated into formula 1, but you hadn’t been able to shake the rage he made you feel.

it didn’t matter how many dinners you attended where others had conspired and forced you to sit next to each other. it didn’t matter how many times you turned up to play padel and were met with the same lame excuses of ‘oh, did we not mention lando would be here?’ it didn’t matter how many times you’d hugged it out on the podium while adrenaline and tensions were running high.

it didn’t matter how many times he’d watched you from across a crowded room and you’d found his eyes, watched him back. it didn’t matter how many times he’d smirked at you at the start of a race weekend, made you blush. and it certainly didn’t matter what happened last time you found yourself in a club with him.

you just don’t like him. not anymore. you sleep better at night when you lie to yourself.

~ the last time

you sink shot after shot, cocktail after cocktail; the taste of fruity liquor stains your lips and burns your throat. you feel electric, sizzling with ecstasy and the heat from the flashing lights above your head.

it’s approaching 4am and you can’t recall a time in your life where you’d felt so fucking good. the high of your first win is indescribable.

you’ve lost track of the guys, alex and george have packed it in and gone back to their hotels with their girlfriends. pierre and kika are somewhere in a corner, you’re certain. you’re pretty sure you’ve even seen lewis with his entourage and a brick wall of a bodyguard trailing behind him. and at the bar, a set of eyes watch you.

lando isn’t even listening to oscar anymore, no. he is too entranced in the way your hips move to the beat, lost in the carefree lines your body makes in the crowd. he’s itching to go to you, put his hands in places that would stay between you, him, and god, but he doesn’t think a broken nose would be good for business.

everything changes when you spin around, facing his direction. then, it begins: the same thing that happens every time you end up going out in the same group. you watch one another, pretending you’re not both achingly desperate to find out how the other tastes.

but lando is feeling bold. he tells oscar he’ll see him in the morning, and then, egged on by a moscow mule and a few too many shots, he makes his way towards you. it is instinctual, magnetic, the way he is drawn to you.

hands on your hips, lips on your neck. the song changes. you recognise the weeknd’s voice. you are disappointed in yourself but it feels too good to stop.

you know what i’m thinkin', see it in your eyes
you hate that you want me, hate it when you cry
you’re scared to be lonely, 'specially in the night
i’m scared that i’ll miss you, happens every time

the lyrics sober you up. you’re in the first taxi you can see when you finally get outside.

alone.

~

as much as that memory makes you shiver, for several different reasons, you find yourself putting on some makeup and raking through your suitcase for something to wear. george and alex are waiting downstairs for you at the bar, and when you finally make your way down there, they have a martini waiting for you. they watch in impressed horror as the alcohol disappears from the glass mere seconds after it touches your lips.

“let’s get this over with.” you sigh.

-

it could have been worse, you suppose.

the club is packed, hundreds of faces blurring into nothing. you feel better knowing that there is a one in a million chance of running into lando.

you’re tucked into a booth with alex and george, carmen and lily, a few faces you can’t quite place, and charles and pierre. you’d conspired to sit on the outside, prepared to make a quick getaway at the first sign of tension.

you’d been in a state of fight or flight since your last run in, nails bitten down every time you thought about his hands on you, how good they felt on you. it scared you more than anything had in a long time, how your desire had festered.

you go to take a swig from your glass, only to find it empty, aside from a few sad ice cubes. you watch jealously as they melt into nothing, wishing they would take you with them, shoving your glass across the smooth table top when your frustration boils over.

you’re on edge, ridiculously afraid of bumping into a curly haired man. it wasn’t him you were scared of, per-say, more yourself. god knows what you’d do if you felt those warm, calloused hands pulling your hips into his again.

“you okay?” pierre calls across the table. he and charles abandon their conversation as soon as your glass goes flying towards their side of the table. you’re broken out of your trance, caught off guard like a deer in headlights.

“tired.” you reply, shrugging it off like it was nothing. it’s clear immediately that they don’t buy it.

“she’s hiding.” alex chimes in from beside you, and your elbow goes straight into his ribs. he feigns pain for a moment, cackling at your reaction.

“from who?” charles inquires. you roll your eyes, blush spreading down your neck already. you hate everything about the conversation, and yet you need to see where it goes. you’d planned your escape, and now was the opportune time to make it, but you seem to be glued to the leather of the booth.

“lando.” george smirks into his drink as a he speaks, wiggles his eyebrows.

“oh yeah, we know all about that.” pierre laughs, his head tipping back in amusement.

“what?” you spit, eyes wide with confusion.

“don’t think me and kika didn’t see you two before the summer break. that night you won? we thought you’d finally cave.” pierre explains, his grin conveying pure evil.

several “what?!”’s sound from around the table, and now all eyes are on you.

“nothing even happened.” you mumble. “he came over to me and then i left.” you look away, twisting your hair around your finger. you are sweating.

“you looked like you were minutes away from being arrested for public indecency.” pierre smirks. you almost launch yourself across the table, intent on strangling him, and then perhaps throwing yourself in front of an oncoming uber outside.

“well, well, well. i fucking knew it.” alex is giggling beside you.

“come on guys, leave the poor girl alone.” lily winks at you, but even she has a twinkle in her eye. “there’s obviously feelings there.” and just like that she betrays you. her sympathetic smile doesn’t make you forgive her.

“i think you guys just need to get it out of your system,” charles starts, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “just fuck.” he waves his hand, like it was the most causal thing in the world.

the table erupts in laughter and you decide that you are well past the end of your tether. you shake your head, declaring that you need another drink, or ten, and strut away from the table. a chorus of ‘love you’-s and ‘get some’-s sound from behind you. you reply simply by raising your middle finger and refusing to look back.

the bar is in sight, just about in your reach when your evening goes from mildly bad to aggressively worse.

“fuck sake.” you sigh.

“and good evening to you too.” lando replies. he’s blocking your path, materialising before you out of nowhere.

“get out of my way, lan.” it sounds like you’re pleading and you cringe internally.

“don’t you wanna congratulate me?” he feigns a pout and you almost swing for him.

“no, not particularly.” you say dryly. “all i want is a drink, so if you’d just…” you gesture for him to move. of course, he doesn’t.

“haven’t seen you in a while, though. thought maybe you’d missed me.” he takes a step closer; goosebumps litter your bare skin.

“you are such an entitled prick.” you spit, moving to step around him but he catches you, gripping your wrists and pulling you in. you feel heat radiating off of him, expensive cologne overwhelming you in the best possible way.

“and you, honey, are such a fucking brat. but you don’t hear me complaining, do you?” lando whispers, cool breath hitting your face, minty, laced with champagne and cockiness. you almost fold, thighs clenching so tight that he must have noticed.

“move.” you grumble through gritted teeth. you are crumbling painfully, embarrassingly fast.

“make me.” your underwear is damp, but you are fuming.

“don’t fucking test me, lando.” something in your chest sets on fire and you’re over him and his bullshit, and the way he makes you feel.

“i know you want me.” he dips his forehead down to rest gently against yours. his grip on your wrists tightens, thumbs swirling circles into the flesh, right where your pulse is.

you lean in, mere centimetres separating your lips. his eyes darken, the assumption of victory over you tugs his lips into a smirk.

“all i want is my fucking drink. come find me when you’ve managed to navigate your gigantic, stupid head out of your arse.” you catch him off guard, wriggling out of his grip. you’re shaking when you walk away, thoughts of doing things with him that would get you both fired invading your foggy brain.

you try to disappear into the crowd, finally breathe a sigh of relief when your hands meet the cool surface of the bar. you order your drink, putting it on your tab and drum your nails against the marble top. you’re lost in your own world, watching as concoctions are mixed, as shots are downed. you finally feel at ease, until your evening takes yet another turn, one that was somehow even more unfortunate than all the others.

your attention is rudely stolen by the guy stood next to you.

“can i get that for you?” the random man speaks, in a way that he must of assumed was smooth. slimy, you think. he’s gesturing to your drink, clearly having watched you add it to your bill already.

“no, thank you. it’s already paid for.” you smile politely, turning on your heel. it seems he wasn’t quite done with you. you feel a clammy hand tug on yours, a wave of sickness washes over you.

lando’s hands are bigger, warmer, softer.

“where are you rushing off to, babe?” the sweaty man asks, his tone fake in a way that makes you uneasy.

“i need to get back to my friends.” you try to pull your hand free, but he won’t budge. “can you let go-“

“i can show you a good time. always thought you were kinda hot.” you’re panicking now, looking every which way for a familiar face, a security guard, anyone.

“take your hands off of me.” you snap, still wrestling to pull yourself free.

“one night with me would pull you out of that little slump you’re in.” he leers. you visibly gag, white hot rage blurs your vision.

“okay you piece of shi-“ you snarl, interrupted by a flash of curls and tanned skin.

“she told you to let go.” lando stands in front of you protectively, rigid and furious. you’ve never been so happy to see his annoying(ly beautiful) face.

“and what are you gonna do?”

“hands. off.” lando stands up even straighter, looking bigger than you’ve ever seen him.

“okay, mate, whatever.” the stranger rolls his eyes, shoves your hand away.

lando turns to you, opening his mouth to speak when…

“keep that stuck up bitch all to yourself.”

and then, everything goes to shit.

lando whips around, fists are flying, the stranger topples to the ground, amassed to nothing in the face of the mclaren drivers rage. lando doesn’t stop there, makes sure he is sufficiently dealt with, flat on his back on the sticky floor. you don’t know what to do, calling out for lando, begging him to stop, as satisfied as you are. lando hears your shouts, pulled out of the chaos and back to you. always back to you.

“are you okay?” he has his hands on your face searching for any remaining fear or upset. a crowd has formed and you see alex and george towering above the other club goers, jaws agape.

it’s as if he dj has it out for you, and you realise that the song has changed to something moodier, slower, one that gives you whiplash.

even though we're going through it
and it makes you feel alone
just know that i would die for you
baby, i would die for you

“we need to get out of here. security are coming.” you mutter, keening into his touch.

“i have a car outside.”

“well, let’s use it then.”

-

you can’t help but stroke over his knuckles mindlessly in the car, an unlikely comfortable silence settling between you. they look raw, cracked slightly and you have an overwhelming desire to kiss them better. your head is fuzzy, and you’re unsettled with confusion, but at the same time, you feel lighter.

“why did you do that?” you murmur, disrupting the quiet that has settled over the backseat of the town car, the question burning desperately on your tongue.

lando turns his head so that he’s looking down at you, his good hand comes up to cup your jaw softly.

“no one can talk to you like that.” he’s staring so deeply into your eyes and you almost squirm at the intensity. you feel exposed, bare.

“but why did you step in before that?” you reiterate shakily. lando hums in understanding.

“i’ve known you since we were 10 years old. i know when you’re scared.” he whispers, breath dusting your cheeks. you almost lean in, then, something about his words pull you even closer towards him. you feel warmth creeping over your chest, sinking into the pit of your belly.

“we’ve arrived.” the driver calls from the front, signalling that you need to get out of the car. it was like an elastic band had snapped, and you spring away from lando, scrambling to undo your seat belt, the moment of weakness long gone.

you sneak into the lobby, on the lookout for any angry PR teams or incognito photographers that are scoping for their next pay check. the coast seems clear, so you manage to scurry discreetly into the elevator. you hit the button for the third floor.

“can you hit the button for five?” lando asks, leaning against the opposite wall.

“you’re coming to my room.” you state, offering no other explanation, even when he raises his eyebrows.

the ding of the lift has lando pushing himself off of the mirrored wall, trailing behind you into the corridor. the lights are low as he follows you to your door, hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. he watches in anticipation as you rifle through your small bag for your keycard. the green light gives you the go ahead to open the door, and he awkwardly follows you inside, peering around the room.

you notice the slight apprehension in his features, eyes blown wide from alcohol and adrenaline. they seem to sparkle more than you’d seen in a while, a hazel-y blue twisting with secrets and unspoken thoughts.

“let me find my first aid kit.” you tell him. you guide him towards the foot of your bed, gesture for him to sit. “make yourself comfortable.”

“you don’t need to do this.” lando replies, sitting down anyway.

“and you didn’t need to get between me and that dickhead but here we are.”

your words elicit a low chuckle from him, and you’re glad you have your back to him while you dig through your suitcase. he can’t see your smile at the wholesome sound, and he doesn’t need to.

random pieces of clothing fall out of the bag as you rummage through it, your attention taken up completely by your mission to find the small box. you don’t notice the pile of garments littering the floor.

“wow, didn’t take you for that kinda girl.” lando teases. your cheeks flame red when you catch sight of the cherry red thong that has managed to get caught in the wheel of your suitcase.

“shut up, i’m helping you.” you grumble, balling up the lace and burying it at the bottom of the case.

“why is it ferrari coloured? something you wanna tell me? do you think charles is… foxy? or is it fred? oh, i bet it’s fred, isn’t it.” he’s laughing now, loud and boisterous, and if it wasn’t for the butterflies erupting in your belly at the sound, you would have throttled him.

“i’ll leave you to bleed out.” you tease back, pointing at the dried up blood across his knuckles.

“of course, i am in urgent need of medical attention!” he exclaims sarcastically, clutching his hand. you roll your eyes.

“you know where the door is.” you stand from the floor, carrying a little square antiseptic wipe with you.

“yeah, i do. feel like staying now, though. i’m just so comfy.”

and with that, he throws himself back on your bed, closing his eyes as he sinks into the mattress.

you stare at him for a second, noticing the way his eyelashes dust the tops of his cheeks, his tanned, thick neck peeks out from in between the undone buttons of his dress shirt. you exhale shakily, moving to sit beside him on the bed.

“give me your hand.” you instruct him, tearing the packet open and unfolding the wipe.

“romantic.” lando snarks. you shove his shoulder in response. he holds his hand out.

“whatever.” you sigh, avoiding eye contact as you run the wipe over his knuckles. you can see how they are already tinged purple, wincing at the idea that it is your fault.

“what is it?” lando asks, noticing.

you don’t respond. this proximity is odd, you can’t quite tell yet if you like it. what you do know is that you certainly don’t know how to handle him now that the alcohol is wearing off and you’re left tending to the wounds of a man that you could have sworn you didn’t like.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be? we’re going back to the silent treatment again?” lando scoffs.

“don’t know what to say.” you mutter, keeping your eyes trained on every line and indent of his knuckles.

“why do you hate me so much?”

“i don’t.”

“yes, you do.” he scoffs.

“i don’t think about you enough to hate you.” you lie. it’s cruel. he winces.

that shuts him up.

“i’m gonna go. thanks for this.” lando waves his hand and you feel a wave of guilt hit.

“no, fuck, i’m sorry.” you apologise, bowing your head. “stay.”

“i’ll stay if you tell me why you hate me.”

“i’ve never hated you, lan. haven’t always particularly liked you but i never, ever hated you.”

“okay.”

that’s all it takes for him to flop back onto the bed. some unexplainable instinct that you loathe has you crawling onto the bed beside him. you wrap your arms around your pillow, watching him watch you.

“i used to have such a big crush on you, you know.” lando says. you stare at him blankly.

“what?”

“yep. i think i was about 15. you were the first girl i ever really liked that way.” he smiles, recalling the memory. “it kinda sucked because i knew you wouldn’t even look at me twice but it’s funny thinking back to that time.”

~ 15

he watches the way her hair gets caught in the breeze as she takes off her helmet. two messy braids are shaken free, and his heart skips a beat or two, or seven, when she turns around with the biggest grin on her face.

she’s just won a race, another one, and he’d be so jealous if it wasn’t her.

he thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. george and alex go over to her, congratulating her, hugging her. he wishes he could do that. he definitely can’t.

she doesn’t see him, the only times that she does are when they argue, when they push eachother off the track and scream at one another across a gravel trap. the times when she plants her pointed finger in his chest and calls him dirty, the times he gets heated and calls her something he doesn’t mean under his breath. and she always hears him. always. he watches her eyes pool with tears every single time.

he wants her, in a way he’s never wanted anyone before. he’s never felt like this, wonders how he can make it go away. she hates him. she must.

he can never have her, so why even try?

~

“i had no idea you ever felt that way.” you’re quite shocked, really. you knew that you had this intensely charged sexual tension between you now, but you had failed to realise how far back this all went.

mutually, at least.

“i’d say i’ve done a pretty good job of hiding it.” his smile changes slightly. it was now a sad smile, one that conveys disappointment in himself, and that you hated to see. it reminds you of the one you’ve gotten used to seeing on your social media feed after he’d had a shitty race.

you sigh, bracing yourself for what you are about to say.

“you’re not the only one who hid it.” you raise an eyebrow, your face says ‘guilty!’

“no?” lando’s eyes widen at your revelation.

“i think we were 13. you gave me half a cookie to apologise for pushing me off track.” you smile coyly. “it’s kinda sad but 13 year old me died inside.” you laugh.

“so, we’ve both… liked each other.” lando assesses. you nod.

“when did you stop?” you inquire, scanning his face. you take in each detail, each individual freckle, the curve of his lips. he seems closer, all of the sudden, and that’s when you realise you’ve closed the space between you. lando is within reach now, it would have been so, so incredibly easy to shift even closer still; it was like you were in his gravitational field, reeled in by pretty, pretty eyes.

“who said i stopped?”

“oh.” you breathe.

~ 13

he snaps the crumbly biscuit between his fingers, trails towards her awkwardly. he feels bad, feels a strange pang in his chest that he doesn’t recognise.

he finds her around the back of her parents car, arms crossed, eyebrows scrunched, pouting hard. he thinks she’s cute.

“why are you here?” she whines.

“this is for you. i know it doesn’t make up for the race. i didn’t mean to take you out, i swear.”

he sounds panicked, sincere. her tummy turns funny.

he’s holding out a cookie, the children’s equivalent of an olive branch.

her face softens. she accepts it. they bite into their cookies at the same time.

it’s not the worst day in the world anymore.

~

messy kisses and soft whispers lull you to sleep.

his nose bumps yours every time your lips meet, gentle and plush.

you feel delicate in his arms, treasured. his lips press gently to your hairline. he’s different, softer than you’ve seen him since you were teenagers splitting cookies.

it’s the easiest thing in the world to curl into his side, mould together until you’re part of him, and drift off.

-

the heat wakes you up.

you stir, eyes fluttering open, searching for the source of the onslaught of warmth. it clicks quickly, and you realise that you hadn’t dreamt the events of the night before.

lando is in your bed.

lando had protected you.

lando had wanted you since you were stupid kids who didn’t know any better.

he is the heater that had woken you up, and suddenly you don’t care that you’re far too hot. you curl back into his side, head rests on his chest. it rises and falls softly, his heartbeat thrums beneath your ear. you are jealous of how pretty he looks when he’s asleep, relaxed and infatuating. you lose track of time, gazing up at him.

a sharp pain in your side makes you groan. you had fallen asleep in your dress, lando in his jeans and his shirt, and now you’re paying for it, your fingers searching for the zipper that was now digging into your side. your movements draw him out of his slumber, and when you look back at him, he’s watching you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“you okay?” lando croaks, his voice deep and sleepy. it sends shockwaves through you.

“mhm. how did you sleep?” you ask, mindlessly running your hand over his jaw like it was the most natural thing in the world. a smile breaks out across his face, eyes fluttering shut once more.

“really fucking well.” he laughs, almost in disbelief.

“yeah, me too.” you smile at him, shy.

“what’s bothering you?”

“well, a human heater woke me up and now this fucking zipper is killing me.” you joke. it’s weird that this doesn’t feel weird.

“i am pretty hot i guess.”

“yeah, yeah.” you roll your eyes and stand from the bed.

lando sits up, resting on his elbows. his eyes follow you as you walk around the room. you take a bottle of water, drinking half of it before passing it to him. his lips wrap around the bottle and you have to turn away, the ache between your legs that you’d been fighting for months rearing it’s irritating head. you clear your throat, composing yourself.

“need to get this dress off.”

lando pulls himself off of the mattress, stalking towards you. you stop in your tracks and he meets you at the foot of the bed. his hands find your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin in little circles, and then kisses you deeper than he did last night.

it’s impossible not to melt into him, hands running over his chest, his shoulders, and finally finding solace tangled in his curls. if someone told you the morning before that you’d wake up in lando’s arms, you would have cackled, urged them to seek medical attention, and probably spat in their face. how things change.

“i think you should keep it on, look so pretty.” lando breathes, staring down at you. you blush hard, leaning into him.

“but i’m uncomfortable.” you grin coyly. and then, a surge of confidence has you whispering: “i’ll let you take it off if you want.”

“let me make you comfortable first.” lando murmurs, dipping his head down until it rests in the crook of your neck. “want me to get you nice and comfortable, baby?” he kisses up your neck.

you cave, finally.

it takes him all of thirty seconds to have you spread out on his face, laying himself down on the mattress and pulling you on top of him so that you’re hovering over his lips. he mouthes at your panties for a second, getting his first taste of you, and then he drags them to the side, clearing a path. his tongue laves over your cunt, groaning as soon as he gets a proper taste.

your dress fans out over your thighs, and lando has disappeared beneath the fabric. you can tell he’s there, though, by the strong hands gripping onto your thighs, the tuft of curls peeking out, and the feeling of his nose bumping your clit as he buries his face deeper and deeper between your folds.

“lando.” you cry, throwing your head back. the straps of your dress are slipping down your arms, skimming your goosebump ridden skin. he just groans into your pussy in response, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth, backwards and forwards until you’re grinding down on his willing tongue. you reach down blindly, grabbing one of his hands where it rests on your thigh, and your other threads through his hair, gripping tight as you revel in the pleasure.

lando pulls your clit between his teeth, grazing over the bud and you’re jolting, writhing above him. you feel like you’re going to die, heat pricking all over your skin, your tummy tight from the building orgasm. he’s so eager, sliding his entire face through your slippery folds, obscene sounds falling from his lips that ricochet through your quivering body.

tears prick your eyes when you finally let go, slumping forwards from the overwhelming sensation taking over every single nerve. he lifts you off of him, laying you back on the bed as you come down from your high.

“you okay, baby?” he coos, brushing sweat dampened hair from your eyes.

his lips are stained, dark pink and shiny, a mixture of enthusiasm and your slick coating them. lando scans your watery eyes, feral at how fucked out you look all because of him, and tantalisingly licks his lips.

“need you.” you moan, reaching out for him. his shirt is wrinkled where he’d slept in it and your shaky hands find the few buttons that are actually done up. you push the material off of his shoulders, pupils blown wide at the sight of his toned chest, at the feel of smooth, golden skin. you pull him in by the shoulders, swallowing him whole as you kiss him with everything you’ve got left.

lando’s hands find your thighs once more, running his hands over them to push your dress up your hips.

“wanted this for so long.” he whispers into the kiss, pulling away so that he can take the dress off of you. he looks ravenous the more he pushes the fabric up your body.

you feel vulnerable under his intense gaze, watchful eyes taking in every movement you make. you try to pull him back in for another kiss but he resists.

“let me look at you, please?” lando asks. “there you go, baby, let’s get this off, hmm?” he sits you up so that he can get it over your head, and you lay back, bare aside from your panties that he’d left in disarray.

he sucks in a breath, raking his eyes over the curve of your lips, your collarbone, the slope of your breasts. his gaze lingers there for just a second, before continuing further over your belly, the length of your legs. you want to hide away, pull him in so that he can’t look at you like this, or just dive under the duvet and stay there until you need to catch your flight.

“god, you’re so, so fucking beautiful.” he gasps, awestruck. he sounds speechless, and you feel yourself going red again.

“come here.” you whine. “needed you for so long.”

your admission seems to kick him into action, because seconds later, he’s on top of you, fingers grazing the band of your underwear while you fiddle with the button on his jeans.

“gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” lando stares you down, tone sending a shiver down your spine. you nod, batting your eyelashes. “words, my love.”

“yes, lando.” you affirm, arching into him. that’s all he needs to know, kicking his jeans away, boxers too.

“good girl. took care of me so well last night, now ‘m gonna take such good care of you.”

your eyes skim his body, honing in on how hard he is. your hand finds his cock, tentative at first, stroking over it softly. it’s heavy in your hands, red and dripping already. he wants this just as bad as you do. you continue to jerk him off, watching the way his eyes squeeze shut and his lips part, soft pants falling out. a low hum sounds from the back of his throat, and you wet your lips, threading your free hand through his hair.

lando opens his eyes at the sensation, gently batting your hand away. he dips down even closer, resting on one of his forearms. he lines himself up and your legs wrap around him instinctively. slowly, he pushes inside of you, his breath catching in his throat.

“fucking hell.” he groans, deep and guttural, something carnal sending shockwaves through his body. “been dreaming about all the ways i’d get to fuck you.”

your eyes roll back and you go languid in his arms, feeling every inch of him slide against your slick walls.

“want you.” you rasp, clinging to him, your fingernails leaving patterns between his taut shoulder blades as you beg for it.

“you have me, baby.” and then he kisses you, messy and slow, stealing the air from your lungs. you’re dizzy when he pulls away, sitting back slightly to change the angle. you cry out, feeling him even deeper and everything is more sensitive, warm. you roll your hips, meeting his thrusts deliciously, and he chokes out a moan as you clamp around him. “yeah, that’s it. fuck yourself like that for me.” he encourages.

this is all too much, too good. you have whiplash, physically and emotionally, eyes pooling with tears as the man you’d wanted so badly that you hated him for it rocks into you. lando hits the right spot every time he pistons his hips harder, and his nimble fingers slide up your abdomen, applying light pressure to your navel that makes you writhe.

“fucking perfect for me. gorgeous.” lando slurs, entranced by the sight of where you’re joined. he can see just how wet you are and it drives him insane, barrelling into you like a man possessed, drunk on every single way that your body responds to him.

his wandering hand finds your breast, kneading it before he traces your nipple. he watches the way it hardens at his manipulation, wetting his lips. he collapses back on top of you, sucking the bud into his mouth. you’re panting, whining beneath him as his tongue swirls over your chest, switching to the other side. you jolt, a silent scream scratching your throat when he slips his hand between your thighs, working your clit with the pad of his thumb. he’s rutting against you, grinding deeper, faster, uncontrollably.

“come on, baby. you’re so close, so tight for me.” he mutters into your skin. you nod frantically, your words lost on you. he kisses over your collarbone, the base of your throat, until he finds your lips.

“so close.” you sigh.

he stops.

“tell me you’re all mine.” lando growls, his entire demeanour changing. the tone of his voice almost finishes you off but you’re suddenly enraged. you’re too close for him to stop.

“c’mon lando.” you hiss, trying to move your hips but he has you firmly in place.

“need to hear you say it.” his hand slithers over your chest, finding a new home at the base of your throat. it makes you throb, the way his thick fingers wrap around you. slowly, his grip tightens, and you see an opportunity.

you buck your hips hard, whimpering at the sensation, but your plan works and now you hover over him. he’s still buried inside you, and you can feel him pulsing as you steal control.

“for once in your life, honey, shut the fuck up.” you smirk, mischievous in victory.

slowly, you build up your rhythm. he feels bigger like this, deeper, and you almost lose yourself in the small circles you make with your hips.

“knew you’d be like this. you liked giving yourself to me but i just knew you’d need to take back control.” lando teases. his hand is back around your neck, squeezing slowly, and you grind frantically, dizzy for him. “i was right last night, wasn’t i, baby? pretending to be my good girl when really,” he pulls you down so that you’re chest to chest. “you’re just a fucking brat.”

lando holds you close as he fucks up into you, feeling the way you go limp on top of him as the pleasure washes over you like a million electric shocks. you’re crying, tears pooling on his chest, because there is nothing you can do, nothing you want to do, but take it. he’s got you right where he wants you, and you’re loving every fucking second of it.

“yeah, baby, take it how you want it.” lando commands through gritted teeth, and you move your hips in a feeble attempt to match his speed. everything is slippery, everything feels wet and flushed.

the power play, the position, the frenzy he seems to be in as he fucks you, it all has you gushing, spilling all over him. you choke out a sob, shuddering as the elastic band in your belly snaps. lando stops his thrusts, replacing them with small rolls of his hips to help you through your orgasm.

a sharp breath and a string of curses from him give you the strength to muster the last little bits of energy you have left to look up at him. you pull your head up off of his chest just in time to watch him shatter into a million little pieces.

his neck flexes as his head rolls back, sinking into the pillow, his eyes tight. swollen lips part and your name falls from between them like a prayer. you can feel him filling you up, his hands tightening their hold on your hips like he’s scared to let go, like the world will stop if he does.

the world stops anyway, because then you’re looking at each other. really looking at each other.

it only takes a second for you to be drawn in and his hands leave your hips to cup your face. his calloused hands feel your skin, stroking over rosy patches on your cheeks. it’s deathly silent all around you, apart from the breathless pants you share.

swollen lips crash hard into yours and you melt. he’s still buried so deeply inside of you, your hips digging into his, impossibly close. you’re blindly reaching for any part of him you can get your hands on, and his big hands slide down your body until they meet the small of your back. ever so carefully, he flips you onto your back, easing your spent body into the mattress.

lando collapses on top of you, mouthes at your neck for a moment, delicate kisses making your eyes flutter shut. the eye contact almost sends you into cardiac arrest as he pulls out, oh so slowly. tease.

he holds you close in the shower, fingers massaging every part of you. sex and sweat are washed away, almost lovingly. you let the water run for far too long, content in clinging to him. it’s quiet, reflective time for both of you, exactly what it needs to be. you’re both hung up on questions that need to be asked, neither one of you brave enough to take the first steps. you know one thing, and one thing only: something has changed, in a forever kind of way.

your hair is stringy, half dry, and you’re stood in your underwear. your legs are still shaky.

“your flight soon?” lando asks. he’s stood in his boxers on the other side of the room, scrunching the water out of his curls.

“yeah.” your throat feels raw.

“and you’re going back to monaco?” he’s stopped what he’s doing now, staring at you. you can see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

you nod.

“fancy a sleepover?” he grins, boyish and careless. your heart falls to your feet.

you’re giggling when he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you into the freshly made bed. the sheets are on the floor by the time you finally remember you have a flight to catch.

you’re his now, you realise. he’s too beautiful for his own damn good.

-

“baby?” you hear lando call from his bedroom. you make out the faint sound of his footsteps making their way in your direction. he appears before you can even answer him, and he’s smiling softly at the sight of you bundled up in a blanket, sprawled across his couch.

“what is it?” you ask. the next thing you know he’s on top of you, peppering kisses over every single inch of skin he can get to on your face. “hey, get off, muppet.” you whine playfully, ruffling his hair.

“do you know how much i love having you here?” he murmurs. it’s endearing as fuck and you fight a foolish, dopey grin.

“you’ve mentioned once or twice…” you’ve been here since your flight touched down a week ago. you haven’t even been home to get clothes, not that you needed them in his company.

“we might have a teeny, tiny issue.” he squints, pulling a face.

“and what’s that?” you ask, your voice measuring equal parts cautious and amused.

“so, alex called…”

“oh, shit.”

“we have to go to dinner tonight.”

“we have to?”

“he’s suspicious as fuck. you do realise they’ve been plotting for us to happen for years,” you roll your eyes as if you say duh. “and also, you’ve been in monaco for a week and haven’t seen him once. oh, and also, the last time we saw them, we were running away from a fucking crime scene.” lando smiles sarcastically, and you sigh, defeated.

before you can reply, your phone is ringing somewhere beside you. you root around in your blanket searching for it and when you find it:

“son of a bitch.” you exclaim, showing lando the caller ID. alex is one persistent motherfucker.

“hey girl.” alex singsongs down the phone before you can even say hello.

“hello to you too.” you can hear the fear in your own voice.

“dinner. tonight. although, i’m sure lando already told you.” alex teases.

“why would lando have told me? what?” you choke. lando slaps his hand over his face. your voice has gone up several octaves. not suspicious at all.

“so, you’re at home? you haven’t been at his place since last week?” the playful interrogation begins.

“why would i be with lando?” you try and feign disgust at the implication. it does not work.

“because you hate fucked after he beat up that perv? i have to say, i didn’t think he had it in him but he’s been in love with you since he was like, ten, so, you know-”

“bye alex.”’

“you’re not denying it-“

“bye alex!”

you’re flaming red when you throw the phone to the other end of the sofa. lando, as on brand as ever, is cackling into a pillow.

“he is such a fucking shit stirrer.” you bury your face in your hands, slumping back into the fuzzy cushions.

“well, he’s right about one thing.” lando trails off. suddenly he’s looking anywhere but you and you see him gulp, hard, swallowing his words, like he’s too afraid to bare his soul.

“huh?” you ask gently, sitting up to reach out for him. “what’s wrong?”

“we need to get ready for dinner. that’s what he’s right about.” lando says, standing from the sofa and walking towards his room. you’re suspicious, watching him go with furrowed eyebrows.

-

“lando, behave! you’re the one making me go to this dinner.” you squeal, batting his restless hands away.

you’ve made it as far as the elevator before he pounces on you, caging you in against the metal walls.

“but you look so good, can’t help myself.” he mutters between kisses on your neck, pressing himself even further into you.

the hand that finds it’s way between your legs, exploring beyond the hem of your skirt, is the one that makes you press the button for his floor. why have plans when you can have sex?

he gets through the door to his apartment at lighting speed and carries you all the way to his bed.

when you’re sweating and breathless a good hour later, half of the bedding on the floor with your clothes, you realise you never cancelled your plans.

lando is drawing shapes into the bare skin of your arm, kissing over your shoulder as he does so. his eyes are dropping from all of the over-exertion and you want to count each and every freckle on his face while he falls asleep. he’s cute like this, soft and yours.

and idea comes to your mind, and as if he can see the lightbulb, lando half raises an eyebrow at you. you giggle, somewhat evilly perhaps, and scramble for your phone on the beside table.

“what’re you doing?” lando groans, pouting as his outstretched arms try to find you.

“getting even.” you state.

with the phone in your clutches, you roll back over towards him, holding the camera above you both. he hears the shutter sound as you snap the picture, and peers closer to see the screen. when he sees the groupchat open, he quickly understands what you’re plotting.

“may i?” you ask for his consent.

“are you kidding? go for it. that’ll shut them up.” he laughs sleepily, muttering something about how this is the most lando thing you’ve ever done

FROM: you

TO: the groupchat

1 image attached

couldn’t make dinner. something came up xx

“alex always thinks he’s right, this’ll teach him for being such a little shit.” you flop back into bed even more satisfied than you were before.

you hear lando inhale shakily beside you.

“he is right sometimes you know.” he repeats his earlier words.

you hold your breath. his eyes say so many things that are too delicate to be spoken yet.

“like… like what he said on the phone?” your voice quivers with anticipation, fear. your heart is thunderous, hammering away like it wants to escape the clutches of its cage.

“yeah. i-“ he stops himself. you don’t need him to finish, you know which two words follow. they can follow in good time, you both know it.

“me too, lando.” you coo.

he’s beaming, eyes half shut. you watch as he falls asleep, the both of you ignoring the way your phones are vibrating so aggressively that they might buzz their way off of the night stand. you lose count of his freckles, but it doesn’t matter.

you’ll have plenty of time to figure it out.

-

let me know what you think :D

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin

(i ran out of tags omg? whoops) lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[themultifanshipper]

can you write something with driver!reader x max with 🔵?

You and Max had been hovering around each other for months. Making each other jealous to try and get the other to do something about it. It had turned into a sick little game of who would crack first.

Tonight you'd gone a step too far and gotten a bit too close with his friend.

Warnings: Ferrari!reader, jealousy, angry max, drinking, smut, choking, rough sex, crying, fingering, bickering, rivals to lovers, Lando as a plot device, cliches, I'm sorry this is probably not my best work but I put everything I had into this so enjoy :3

requested from my prompt list

The bass was pumping through the walls of the club where you had decided to celebrate your victory. P1 baby! And with Ferrari back on their A game, you and Charles both got a podium with Lando on the second step, while Max just went back to his driver's room seething with rage after a penalty left him p5.

It felt amazing to finally be on top and you dragged your best drinking buddy Lando to the club as soon as possible for a night of wild celebration and many, many drinks that people had bought you.

Lando knew the game you were trying to play with Max, you were just using him to make Max jealous, but he would be damned if he didn’t take full advantage of the opportunity.

And you certainly weren’t going to refuse the advances of Lando Norris, one of the sexiest men you’d ever laid eyes on.

That’s how you ended up with him gripping your hips as he moved them to the beat, one thigh slotted between yours as you ground against each other, losing yourself as his lips made their way across your jaw, to the junction between your neck and your ear, your eyes closing, body lost in the pleasurable sensation.

You two danced for so long that you’d almost forgotten your game, when the feeling of Lando’s heated skin was suddenly ripped away from your greedy hands.

Before your alcohol-addled brain could register what was happening you were being dragged out of the club and into the street.

You vaguely registered Max hailing a taxi and getting you back to the hotel.

He all but threw you into a room before locking the door behind him. You barely remember getting there, but you were in a hotel room that clearly wasn't your own, red bull branded clothes strewn all over the place.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked, shaking with barely contained anger.

“What?” You batted your eyelashes in faux-innocence “Am I not allowed to celebrate my hard earned win?”

“Not by crawling all over my friends like a slut”

“They're my friends too, Max, I can do what I want with them”

That seemed to make him hesitate, but his anger came back full force as soon as the image of Lando's greedy hands all over you flashed through his mind.

“Stop fucking around in front of me”

“And why should I do that, it's not like you have the balls to do anything, and I have needs, Max” You were getting bolder by the minute, partly because of the alcohol, but also because you were sick of the games.

“Like that fucking kid could ever satisfy you” he scoffed, you just smirked.

“Oh I don't know, he seemed pretty eager to please in the club, maybe I could go back and find out if it was just his phone I could feel in his pocket, it felt pretty satisfactory to me…”

“Stop fucking talking about Lando!” he growled and stepped closer to you unconsciously.

“Come over here and make me, coward”

That's what made him lose it. Max Verstappen was a lot of things, but he never ran away from what he wanted.

You ended up propped up against the wall, Max was knuckle deep inside you and you knew you weren’t going to last long. You didn’t know how it was possible for him to find the spot that made your knees buckle so fast, but he brought you to the edge of extasy in no time, only to stop just as you were about to reach the precipice.

You whined and clawed at his shoulders, but he just grabbed your wrists and held them above your head.

“Say you’re fucking mine. Say I’m the only one who’s allowed to have you like this…”

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin. You couldn’t help but run your mouth a little bit more though.

“I think the British driver that got p2 today would disagree with that sentiment- “

His hand came up to swiftly wrap around your neck and squeeze, cutting you off.

“Don’t talk about him when I’ve got you dripping down your thighs just from a couple of fingers” he growled, other hand going to undo his belt to push his jeans and underwear down, just enough to free his cock from the constraints of his maddeningly tight jeans.

He roughly dragged you to the bed, turning you around and pushing you down so hard you had to put your hands out to catch your fall.

“Going to make you take my cock and prove to you I’m the only one who can make you scream for me.”

You were certainly wet enough, and he didn’t give you any time to respond as he slid into you with unwavering strength.

Your arms gave out immediately and you fell face first into the sheets, struggling to breathe as he gripped your hips tight and immediately started a bruising pace with his hips.

Your whole body was on fire, not from any pain, but from the intensity of his cock pushing into your g-spot mercilessly, and you cried out as your orgasm crept up on you in record time.

He didn’t stop though, forcing you to endure his relentless pace and stamina and you quickly turned to mush, the pleasure coursing through you so intense that he had to hold you up by your hips.

He pulled out suddenly and the sudden emptiness sent your brain and body into a frenzy, babbling incoherent sounds that sounded like his name, and ‘please’.

Max turned you over onto your back and slid back into you, hooking your legs over his shoulders to deepen the angle, and to look at your face as he brought you the edge a second time.

You cried as the euphoria took over your body, his hands coming up to wipe the tears away from your cheeks and he came not long after, pumping you full and dropping his sweaty forehead onto yours.

Once you’d both come down from your highs, and you had regained the ability to speak, he looked into your eyes. All the anger from before had disappeared, and now he looked scared, terrified even. You just stared at each other, not knowing quite what to say after that.

After a while he finally plucked up the courage to ask “Can I kiss you? Please.”

You smiled and fresh tears (this time of joy) sprung to your eyes as your hands came up either side of his face.

“Yes, Max…” you whispered “kiss me, pl-”

Once again he cut you off, and his lips were softer than you ever could have imagined. It just felt right, the two of you, wrapped perfectly together like two pieces in a puzzle.

“I love you…” you murmured, breaking away for air.

It was his turn for tears to start forming as the relief washed over him that this wasn’t a one time thing, and that you truly felt the same way he did.

You both missed your alarms, and subsequent attempts by your teams to contact you, and therefore your flights.

“How the hell are we going to get back to Monaco, now?” he asked as you both sat in bed nursing hangovers.

“Well…” you said tentatively “I know someone who’s private jet is probably still here…”

He looked confused for a moment, then his eyes widened and he shrieked.

“Absolutely not! We are NOT flying with fucking Lando!”

Spoiler alert, you had no choice... This was going to be a long flight

[chleem]

Not a big deal pt4

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament. 

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex (read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ p3 | index | p5

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The ringing of your phone jolts you awake, no longer dreaming. 

Your head throbs, the bright sunlight seeping through the curtains only adding to the ache. The loud ring of your phone makes it hard to focus, and for a moment, you can’t quite piece together where you are.

But the arm wrapped around you reminds you of just where you are, and who you’re with. 

Slowly turning your face, you find yourself looking into Drew’s. He’s asleep, completely unaware to the loud ringing. His features are relaxed, eyelids closed, his breathing slow, and a small smile sits on his face. 

What is he dreaming about?

You focus on memorizing every inch of Drew’s face, studying the soft lines, the way his lashes rest against his skin, the gentle curve of his lips. 

A strange mix of disbelief and nostalgia swells inside you. He looks so much like the Drew from four years ago—the one you lost your virginity to. 

Part of you wonders if he’s still that same person, or if he’s changed just as much as you have.

Your phone quiets down eventually, your caller giving up. 

Well, at least you thought so. The ringing comes back, and this time, it causes Drew to flutter his eyes open. He rubs his eyes, yawning as he focuses his gaze to you. The small curve of his lips from earlier is replaced with a grin that stretches ear-to-ear, and his eyes hold a lazy look.

“Morning, baby,” his voice is deeper in the morning, a raspy coat layered on.

You mirror his smile, the nickname causing your heart to skip a beat, “morning.”

“How long have you been staring?”

“The whole night,” you teasingly say, which earns a low chuckle from him.

“No wonder I had a nightmare,” he jokes back, his arm going around you once again and pulling you close. He nudges his face into your neck, a groan escaping probably from the loud ringing phone, “who’s calling?”

You frown, your hand reaching behind you for your phone on the nightstand. 

You glance at the screen, Luke. Your brother? Why on earth is he calling now?

“I just woke up,” you say, forcing out a groan, trying to sound as casual as possible. You can hear Luke moving around on the other end of the line—his footsteps shuffling. 

“Shit, were you in a fucking coma? Open the fucking door.”

What. 

Your heart sinks at the sudden shift in his tone, a sharp tension filling your chest. That last part… Open the door?

You push Drew away, immediately sitting up. “Um, what do you mean-“

“I’m outside your room. Did you not hear, I rang the-“

The rest of Luke’s words fly by your ear. You were wide awake now, the weight of the situation sinking in. 

Luke’s outside of your door. Drew’s naked in your bed. 

You know Luke. You know how he reacts to things like this. And it’s not going to be pretty. His temper is explosive, like a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

You cover your microphone, and whisper to Drew, “get. out.”

“What?” Drew chuckles, his voice dropping to a softer tone, confused by your sudden urgency. “Why are we whispering?”

Right after, Luke stops himself mid-sentence, his voice cutting through the line, sharp and loaded with suspicion. “…wait, are you with someone?”

“Get out,” you slap Drew’s arm to get him moving, mouthing the words, “Luke’s outside!”

Drew’s eyes widen the same way yours did before. He stumbles off the bed, catching himself just before he crashes to the floor. It would be funny if you weren’t on the risk of getting caught by your brother. “No, just, just give me a minute, yeah? I’m getting ready-“

You get out of bed too, the phone propped on your shoulder. Drew and your clothes are scattered around the floor, mixed together.

You put the phone on speaker, setting it on the nightstand as Luke's complaining echoes through the room. Quickly, you put on your nightgown, searching for a clean pair of underwear.

You glance at Drew. He’s in his boxers, scrambling to find his pants. Is he trying to get caught? “Hurry,” you whisper-yell, looking around for his clothes.

Drew shoots you a blank stare, moving to the other side of the bed.

“Are you done yet? My legs are dying-“

“Almost! Just wait, okay?” You yell back at the phone.

“Y/n, seriously, been out here for forever-“

You find his button-up from last night tucked under the couch, and you toss into his arms. A chuckle escapes his lips as he barely catches it. 

Drew walks past you with his shirt unbuttoned, tie and jacket in his hands. He grabs his shoes, and gets ready to open the door. 

You quickly pull him back, “are you stupid?” You mean that with all your heart; Luke is literally on the other side of the door, and he wants to open it? 

Instead, you swing open the bathroom door and shove Drew inside. "Stay here for a while, alright?”

"What, no—“

You slam the bathroom door shut without another word, then quickly turn to the front door, your hand already on the handle. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before facing Luke. 

Forcing a smile, the door opens, impatience written all over Luke’s face. “Finally,” he mutters, brushing past you. His rudeness isn’t a surprise—it’s just how he is.

You mumble something under your breath, closing the door behind you. Luke’s already sprawled out on your couch, legs propped up casually like he owns the place.

At the same time, both of you spot the wine glasses on the coffee table, their presence suddenly hanging in the air, adding a layer of tension you can’t ignore.

“Alright, where is he?” Luke asks, his voice low but demanding as he sits up, scanning the room to find the owner of the other glass. 

Your first instinct is to stop him from getting anywhere near the bathroom. You quickly sit down beside Luke, your hand pushing him back onto the couch. “It’s... yours,” you say, the words coming out quicker than it should. 

Luke looks at you, confusion flickering in his eyes, then down at the wine glass, before he narrows his gaze. “What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone sharp now, sensing- no, knowing something's off. 

“Y’know, it’s a nice hotel, let’s have some coffee,” you say, a lame attempt at sounding casual. You grab the glasses, and with the coffee maker in the small kitchen, you press the open button. 

Sneaking a glance at your brother, his gaze never leaves you, his tongue poking against his tongue. 

“Latte? Oh, they have espresso,” you continue, keeping your voice steady, scrolling through the options. 

“No,” his voice stops you, and you turn around, watching as he gets up. “I gotta leave anyways.”

This time, the smile on your face isn’t fake. “So soon?”

“Yeah, just came to check on you,” Luke gives you a tight smile, his hand reaching for the door handle. “I’ll send an Uber, ‘kay?”

You nod, a bit too eagerly that shows your interest in him leaving. 

Although still suspicious, Luke gives you one last glance before opening the door and stepping out. “Take care of yourself,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost like he's unsure of what to make of the situation.

The door clicks shut behind him, and for a moment, all you can do is breathe, your shoulders relaxing for the first time since he walked in. 

Finally. 

Opening the bathroom door, you look around for Drew. 

Only to find him laying in the bathtub, fully clothed, his tall figure awkwardly trying to fit in the small space. His arms are thrown out to either side, and his fingers fidget with his ring. 

You lean against the doorframe, and when his blue eyes peek at you, a smile appears on his lips. “Hey,” he says, “made myself a home here, I guess.”

You chuckle at his words, and you sit down at the edge of the tub. “Real comfortable there.”

Drew lets out a breathy laugh, shifting lightly. He glances at his watch, the smile fading just a bit, “I’ve got to go too.”

Right, team practice. 

A brief, almost impulsive thought crosses your mind—to ask him for his number, to stay in touch. Is that a ridiculous thought? You’re not sure. You’re not even sure why the idea is lingering, but it feels... right, somehow. Maybe because, despite everything, you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

At least, not with this Drew. 

Your chain of thoughts breaks, with a tough tug on your wrist. 

When you’ve come to your senses, you’re in the tub with him, seated in his lap. 

The warmth radiating off of him is ridiculously comfortable, the blue eyes almost smitten as they look into yours. 

You lean into him, closing your eyes, instinctively tilting your face toward his. You can feel the breath between you both, the tension building, and just as you’re about to close the distance—nothing.

No contact.

You peek at him through one eye, a little confused.

A throaty laugh escapes him, full of amusement. 

Shyly, you move away, only to be pulled back towards him, his hand finding the back of your neck. 

And then, he finally kisses you, gentle yet affectionate. 

It feels different than last night; The kiss feels deeper, more meaningful, and the thought that it might end soon makes your chest tighten with an ache. 

To last longer, you rest your arms around his neck, thrusting your tongue deeper into his mouth. 

Another chuckle escapes Drew, and he pulls away this time. 

With hooded eyes, you catch the soft smile on his lips. “Tryna get me in trouble?” The teasing tone in his voice makes your stomach flutter, along with the way he stares at you. 

“Maybe,” you giggle, and with a roll of your hips against him, he groans, his hands squeezing your waist. He rests his head at the rim of the tub, and you take the chance to kiss his neck. 

“Could be late-“ his words come out hushed, as your tongue grazes over the soft skin of his neck, “a minute or two.”

“Mmhm,” you bring your lips back up to his, and you kiss him again, this time, hungry and demanding. Your hips roll against his, and you could feel his boner poking your inner thigh. 

Your heart speeds up at the thought of doing it right here with Drew, in the bathtub. 

One of his hand slips under your nightgown; kneading your ass. 

It’s the way his blue eyes lustfully stare up at yours, that you continue rubbing your pussy against his lower abdomen. 

Drew readjusts his position, to allow the dent in his pants to rub closer to your wet pussy, your hips riding off the closeness. His low grunts sounds like music to your ears, the occasional rise of his hips offering more satisfaction to your core. 

“You like that?” Drew's voice, low and raspy, breaks the noise of soft moans and grunts, as his hand gently tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Grinding on my cock?”

Fuck. Your brain races with the thoughts of last night, his cock buried deeply in you. The hard length fucking the senses out of you. 

“Drew…” you moan out, sounding more desperate than expected. Your hands clutch on his suit jacket in tight fists, bouncing yourself on his clothed length. 

A breathless chuckle leaves his mouth, his other hand resting at the back of your neck. You feel the rough and cold material of his ring against your jaw, his thumb grazing the skin of your bottom lip. 

“Don’t stop, baby,” he coos, and you feel his dick twitch beneath you. The subtle movement sends your mind into further frenzy, encouraging the orgasm building inside of you. 

Ring! Ring! Ring! 

This time, the sound comes from inside the bathroom, in the tub, the phone that lays beside Drew’s thigh. 

You don’t even glance at it, consumed with building your orgasm. 

He’s not gonna answer anyways-

Drew picks it up, a mischievous grin on his face. “Hey,” he breathes into the phone. 

A moan escapes your lips, and he sticks two fingers into your mouth, deep until it hits the back of your throat. Gagging, you cough out, which makes Drew chuckle softly, a mumbled “sorry” escaping his lips, followed by a quiet, ‘shhh.’

You feel a knot grow in your lower stomach, as he raises his hips and thrusts into yours. You suck at the fingers in your mouth, the ring rubbing against your cheek. 

“Nothing- I’m working out,” he forces out, speaking into the phone. There’s a certain thrill in his voice, a hint of excitement that lingers as he speaks. 

He couldn’t be honest and say currently having your sister ride against my cock.

Although, the thought turns him on more, and he feels another twitch down at his dick.

“Mhm,” he hums mindlessly into the phone, leaning his head back. His mouth parts in awe, forcing his eyes to stay open. 

The hand on your ass grips tighter, averting all the desire to moan there. 

Whimpering against his fingers, you feel the knot inside of you come undone, the warm juice flowing out and definitely staining your underwear. 

You stop sucking his fingers, and you send him a lazy smile, your hips moving slower to ride your orgasm out. When you glance down at his pants, you can see the light stain, yours or his unsure. 

“What, no-“ his brows furrow together, listening in on whoever’s on the other line. 

You move back further until you’re no longer on his lap; tilting your head to study his face. 

But Drew’s hand catches yours, and guides it to the bulge in his pants. He’s still hard. 

You almost moan at the feeling of his thick length underneath your fingertips, Drew stifling back moans too. 

With that, your hands work its magic; palming and massaging his dick, as Drew tries his best to listen intently on the phone. 

“Mhm, yeah,” he agrees into the phone, his voice hitching slightly to hold back moans. You chuckle quietly at that, your hands continuing its touching of his clothed length. 

His hand reaches for you once more, and when you straddle his waist again, it slides to the back of your neck. His lips crash against yours almost desperately, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

Your hands cup his face, kissing him back with the same urgency. 

Drew groans into your lips, but not before hanging up on the phone. It drops inside the tub, the loud thud ignored by the both of you. 

His orgasm flows through him; the liquid spilling out onto his boxer briefs. 

The kiss breaks, and you both lean your foreheads together, gasping for air.

It’s silent, only the distant sound of AC running. 

Then, a breathless laugh slips from you as you process what just happened.

“Who were you calling?” You ask, genuinely curious. Your thumb rubs circles on his cheek, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips. 

There’s the same mischievous glint in his blue eyes, causing your stomach to twist slightly. “Best if you didn’t know,” he murmurs, his grip on your waist tightening as he straightens up.

You furrow your brows, ready to ask him more. 

“You wanna have lunch together?" His suddenly asks, his voice softening. 

The question catches you off guard. You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze, your mind racing. Is it... a date? Of course it is. But... is that what you really want? 

Well, four years ago you would’ve loved to go out with a dude named Drew.

But the reminder of your brother meeting with you later flashes by. 

“Can’t,” you shrug apologetically at him, as the hand on the back of your neck starts to play with your necklace. 

Having some fun of your own, you run your hands through his hair, the short strands brushing against your fingers. “Okay…dinner,” Drew suggests instead. 

His blue eyes now stare pleadingly into yours, biting on his lower lip as he silently waits for your answer. 

Okay. You’re leaving tomorrow night, it wouldn’t hurt to have a private meal with him. 

You nod, reaching up to gently pull his lip away from his teeth, a soft smile tugging at your own.

The look in his eyes softens, a hint of curiosity flickering as he leans in a little closer. His hands leave you, reaching for his phone. ”Number?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Just as you’re about to tell him, he adds, “not your brother’s, though.”

Your eyes furrow at his comment; what’s that supposed to mean?

But he just shakes his head, finding his own joke amusing, “no- never mind. Go ahead.”

Slowly, you tell him his number, and soon enough, you hear your own phone ringing in the background. 

“Thanks, I’ll text you,” he kisses your cheek, gently shifting you off of him, “now, I really need to go.”

You watch as he gets up, and you immediately miss his warmth. He gets out the tub first, but not before turning around to offer his hand. 

You smile at the simple yet soft gesture, and take it, letting him help you out the tub. 

“I might see you later,” you tell him, as Drew leads you along with him, to the door. 

“Really?” Drew’s hand catches the door handle, pushing it open. He turns back to face you, and with your hand still in his, he takes the opportunity to place a gentle kiss there. “I’m looking forward to that already.”

Why can’t he just skip practice? 

“Alright,” you smile, taking your hand out of his, patting down the roughed part of his suit jacket, “get out of here.”

His lips curve into a half-smile, and he gives a playful shrug as he takes a step back. "Bossy," he teases, his voice light but warm, “see you.”

The soft click of the door closing echoes in the quiet room.

 With your back against the door, you slide down to the floor, your legs pulling up as you wrap your arms around them.

Blush creeps onto your cheeks as your mind races, replaying the moments with Drew—the look in his eyes, the feel of his lips on your skin, the way he seemed so different, yet so familiar.

You close your eyes, leaning your head against the door, trying to shake off the warmth still lingering in your chest.

Why does it feel like there's more to it than just... whatever that was? You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know one thing for sure: this wasn’t how you imagined your visit here to be like.

——

You’ve never been to a real basketball stadium before. 

At first, the staff was unexpectedly rude, shutting you down before you even had a chance to introduce yourself. Just as things seemed hopeless, the manager stepped in, recognizing your name and quickly handing you a ‘visitor’ badge.

He guides you through narrow corridors, until you make it into a more promising section of the place. The air was filled with the scent of fresh gear, and before you knew it, you passed by one of the locker rooms. You catch a brief glimpse inside - a few tall, fit, shirtless dudes who walked around, chatting away. 

Even at your grown-up age, seeing half-naked guys still made you fluster, averting your gaze. 

Following the manager, the path leads to a visible court ahead, the bright lights blinding into the small tunnel. The loud sounds of dribbling and sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor echo, growing louder with each step. 

Stepping out the tunnel, the staff leads you to the front seats, finding one that isn’t occupied by towels or bags. 

Something about an empty stadium with only its players sends a weird feeling to your brain - the scene surreal somehow. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him, who just nods, walking away. 

Sitting down on the black leathered seat, you look out at the court, taking in the players currently practicing. 

Your instincts kick in, and you scan the floor— spotting Drew, even with his team members running around and dribbling. He's easy to find, his tall frame and confident stride standing out as he lines up for a three-pointer. 

The ball leaves his hands with a smooth flick, arcing toward the hoop, and you watch as it swishes through the net. 

Shit. It’s the way he nonchalantly grabs another ball from the rack, dribbles it once, twice, before casually sinking another three-pointer, his expression completely unbothered that gets you. Other than your heart, something else is throbbing inside of you. 

Like magnets, your eyes focus solely on Drew, even more when you realize the waistband of Calvin Klein peeking out from his shorts. And of course, the v-line that follows-

Thwack!

A ball hits you square in the face, snapping you out of your trance. The sharp impact leaves you blinking, momentarily stunned. 

Slowly, pain creeps into your right jaw, mostly centered there. 

Great. Sitting down for what, not even five minutes? 

As you raise your hand to your face, trying to steady yourself from the blow, the blurry figure of a man slowly comes into focus. He looks flustered as he stammers an apology, but you don’t respond. The pain in your jaw is all-consuming, your head still spinning from the unexpected hit.

“What the fuck, man!”

The loud yell of your brother cuts through the stadium, sharp and full of anger. You don’t even have time to react before he’s charging toward you, his face red. Without hesitation, he roughly shoves the man in front of you, sending him stumbling back a few steps. 

For fuck’s sake, your brother’s outrage might be more frustrating than being hit by a ball…. Does he always have to cause a scene? What a drama queen. 

Even with the pain radiating through your jaw, you manage to drag your hand up and pull the edge of Luke’s shorts. The movement is slow, but it’s enough to make him turn around immediately.

“Shit, y/n, you okay?” He tones his voice down, his features softening as he sits down beside you. 

The lights above you start to drown out; which was because of the crowd gathering around you. They pretend to take a break- but everyone knows it’s to catch a glimpse of a fight threatening to erupt between Luke and his teammate. 

The ache is unbearable, and yet you still manage to lock eyes with Luke. Through clenched teeth, you choke out, “you idiot.”

Luke's eyes widen, guilt flooding his features. Hesitating, his hand hovers near your shoulder, unsure of what to do. 

“Get me an ice pack, dummy,” you rasp, voice thick with frustration. 

Luke winces at your tone, and you catch the muffled laughter from his teammates. 

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, “I’ll get it.” He hurries off, without another word. 

The guy that hit you with the ball apologies once again, and you reassure that you’re okay. Your eyes drift over to the other players, who immediately pretend to be busy with something else. 

You sigh, closing your eyes, as you lean back into the chair. The noise and ruffling of bags fade away as you focus on the pain, trying to relieve it. You place your hands in your lap, relaxing yourself. 

But not even a minute in, a soothing, familiar voice brings you back. 

“Hey baby,”

You crack your eyes open, and there he is, standing in front of you, a concerned smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His blue eyes stare down at you, the gleam in them brighter than the stadium lights. 

Drew.

Your brain immediately replays the scenes of this morning— his lips against yours, his hands all over you, and the call during the…sex? 

He doesn’t wait for an answer; simply sits down beside you, his presence warm and steady. You can feel the tension in his body as he watches you carefully, fidgeting with his hands that lay on his lap. 

The uncontrollable ache in your chest isn’t from the pain, but rather nervous. Fuck. He probably saw the whole process of Luke getting mad! Now you’re embarrassed. Your face is definitely swollen, red, ugly-

“Um, I’ve been hit…multiple times too,” he carefully starts, and you avert your gaze to his face, locking eyes with him. “Ice packs don’t, really work.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, your lips in a small frown as you wonder where he’s going with this.

His eyes flicker to his teammates, who are clearly stealing glances at the two of you. The quiet murmurs around you seem to make him shift slightly, though, and suddenly, you’re acutely aware of the space between you two. His body scoots closer, letting his knee rests against yours.

The contact is casual, but it sends an unexpected jolt of warmth through you. You catch yourself glancing down at where your legs meet.

His voice lowers just a touch, teasing, “kissing…much better.”

You blink, caught off-guard by his words. The smirk on his lips only deepens, his gaze locked on yours. “Official recommendation?” You manage to say, reflecting the teasing tone back at him. 

He shrugs, sending you an air-kiss, his lips pursed in a playful manner. “Worked in the past.”

“And how many…have you offered?” You jokingly ask, a small smile now present on your lips, as your body relaxes itself in his presence. 

Now it’s Drew’s turn, taken aback by your reply. You giggle at that, as he licks his lips, nodding slowly. He rests an arm over the back of your seat, fingers brushing your back and burning the skin there. 

“You caught me,” Drew says, readjusting his hips to angle his body inches closer (even more close; if that’s even possible) to you. “…just wanted to kiss you…again.”

The words are barely above a whisper, but you hear it. 

You swallow, trying to keep the flutter in your chest under control, but the soft touches he starts giving on your back makes it hard. His fingers rub circles on the bare skin that your top doesn’t cover; making your heart skip a beat. 

It feels like you’re back in high school again, a silly crush. 

Or rather, the specific crush you had on the Drew from WCU. 

Drew’s gaze flicks down to your lips for a moment, a slight shift in his expression that’s almost too subtle to notice — but you catch it. His eyes meet yours again, and you can sense a change, something a little deeper in his look now, less playful and more... intent.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice now softer, changing the topic. The teasing from before has faded, replaced by something a little more earnest. “Feeling better, at least?”

“Yes,” you reply with a smile. The pain was long forgotten since he sat down. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head lightly, before muttering, “as long as you’re okay,” the sincerity in his voice palpable. You feel a strange warmth spreading in your chest, the kind that makes you forget all the chaos around you. 

“Um, do you like the place I sent?” Drew changes the topic, and you quickly understand what he’s referencing—he texted you with an address earlier, just before practice. A restaurant that looks like it belongs in a hidden corner of an old European city. 

You get ready to say yes, that it’s great, but of course, your eyes drift over his shoulder, and you see the faint image of Luke running over. 

The moment- over, just like that. 

You quickly look away from Drew, and sensing the change, he sits up, adjusting his position away from you. His hand back in his lap, his knee no longer resting against yours; he creates an invisible border between you two. 

It stings for a moment; but your brother reaching you distracts it. 

“Here,” Luke hands you the ice pack, breathing heavily. You take it, placing it against your jaw as Luke’s eyes flicker over to Drew beside you, acting nonchalant.  “Starkey.”

Drew looks up at the call of his last name, a tight smile on his lips, “yeah?”

“In my seat,” Luke replies, his voice casual but the tone carrying an underlying edge, even though the other seat beside you was empty. 

To which, Drew glances over your shoulder, at the said seat. But Luke doesn’t follow his gaze. Instead, his eyes stay locked on Drew, and you can almost feel the tension between them, thick and unspoken. Drew's posture shifts slightly, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to protest.

But he doesn’t.

With a small shrug, Drew stands up, walking past Luke to the court. He doesn’t turn around for another glance; and joins another teammate to practice. 

Luke drops to the chair that was previously occupied, and his body relaxes, his features softening. “You alright?” He asks again. 

“Took you long enough,” you complain instead, turning your body towards the court. Unknowingly you had your body shifted over to Drew when he was still sitting here. 

Luke doesn’t react; his glare enough to melt the ice pack. “I could get him benched, y’know?” 

You glance at him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. "What?" You ask, raising an eyebrow, your heart sinking slightly. “Drew? He was just checking up on me-“

“Smith, the one that hit you.”

Oh. 

Well, unless it was Drew, you truly cared less. 

“No, Luke, it was an accident,” you shrug, trying to sound sincere. Your eyes follow Drew on the court, as he successfully jumps and bats the ball out of the other player’s hands. 

“Yeah…no,” Luke mutters, clear that he’s definitely telling the coach. His eyes follow your gaze, and he pokes your shoulder roughly to get your attention. Tearing your eyes away from Drew, you send him a glare. “What did, uh, Drew talk to you about?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter slightly, but ultimately shrug, playing it casually, “he asked if I was fine. That’s all.”

Luke looks at you, clearly not persuaded. 

“Nothing big,” you add on, sending him a smile. 

The ice pack starts to melt in your hands, and noticing it, Luke reaches over to a bag (probably his) and takes a towel out. He hands it to you, but you just narrow your eyes at it, unsure. 

“Relax; it’s unused,” Luke says, and reluctantly you take it. You wrap it around the ice pack, putting it on your jaw again. “I don’t think so- Starkey’s full of shit.”

“More than you?” You tease, earning another poke on your shoulder from him. 

A part of you wanted to know what your brother meant; another part of you didn’t. Even if he was an asshole, you didn’t want to know. At least, not now, when it’s your vacation, and this lovely dream is washing over you. 

“I’m hungry,” you cut whatever Luke wants to say, standing up. “Is the, I don’t know, food court open?” 

Luke watches you stand, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watches you, clearly weighing whether or not he should push further. But you can tell he’s deciding against it.

“Nah, that shit’s ass,” he says, a smile tugging on his lips as he stands up. He throws an arm over you, adding extra weight to your shoulders. “I’know a place.”

The strong smell of his sweat hits you; the aftermath of practicing all morning. Your face scrunches up in disgust, as he leads you to the tunnels again, “shower first, you smell like shit.”

He laughs, unfazed, and squeezes your shoulder. 

And as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms, Drew watches, his eyes lingering just a second too long. 

——

The lack of effort your brother brings truly is, amazing. Blows your mind every. time. 

The restaurant he brings you to is the same one as last night, expect well, it’s noon, menu’s different, and oh, you’re sitting outside. 

“Anything else?” The waitress says, as she bats her eyelashes over at your brother. 

With a cocky grin on his face, he gestures the waitress to lean forward. And when she does, he whispers in her ear, causing her to nod enthusiastically. Great, now he’s even flirting with the staff. 

“Food will arrive shortly,” she shyly says, walking away. 

Once she’s gone, the discontent is evident on your face, the frown deepening as you cross your arms. “Seriously?” You almost bark at him, causing him to flinch. 

“What?” He shrugs, oblivious to your frustration. 

“It’s the same place as last night,” you tell him, gesturing around. 

“…that’s why we’re here,” Luke says, with that stupid grin on his face, “Hawk players eat here free.”

Your eyebrows furrow deeper at his words, your gaze shifting to the stunning garden view. Now that you’re really looking at it, the place is beautiful—a secret little oasis that could’ve come straight out of a fairytale.

It’s Luke’s rough kick under the table that snaps you back to reality, your attention shifting to him as he gives you a…rather serious look. 

“So who were you fucking last night?”

“Luke!” You whisper-yell at him, glancing around. Okay, not a lot of people sitting outside. “You can’t just ask that-“

“C’mon, I’m not a fucking idiot,” he interrupts, leaning back in his chair. It’s clear he didn’t buy whatever you said this morning, his eyes scanning you with the annoying know-it-all look. “You forgot how well I know you, y/n.”

With a roll of your eyes, you press your lips together. No way were you telling him. 

Luke scratches his eyebrow, a frown taking over his face. He falls quiet, clearly lost in thought, before his eyes light up with some idea. “How about this…a secret for a secret?”

How ridiculous. This isn’t some middle school game.

“Luke, forget it, I’m not telling you who it was.”

“Ha! So you were with someone,” he exclaims, gently tapping the table. 

Your shoulders drop in exasperation, and you give him a seriously? look. 

Maybe because it’s the first time (other than Zack) that your brother has actually caught you with someone. The thought makes you cringe, the idea of him knowing about that part of your personal life. It’s always been a no-go zone, same for him. 

You open your mouth to tell him off, but he starts his own conversation. 

“I fucking hate Drew Starkey.”

The sudden mention of his name catches you off guard, and you freeze, the words hanging in the air. The change in your brother’s demeanor is immediate—his usual cocky attitude replaced with something colder, sharper. It’s unsettling.

However, can’t help but think, Okay…so he is sharing a secret. 

“What?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, unsure whether you actually want to know more. You’d already cut him off earlier, back at the court.

“I tried…I tried liking him, and shit, it’s impossible,” Luke laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m still petty after all these years, but-“

His eyes meet yours, and seeing how confused you are, his tensed features relax slightly. He looks at you like you're missing something obvious, like he’s just about to reveal a truth you've been blind to.

“Do you not fucking recognize him?”

You swallow hard, feeling your stomach tighten. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen your brother truly hate someone, different from his usual short-tempered self. 

“Fuck- he’s the guy I lost the championship to? WCU? Setting my career back-“

His words fade into the background, replaced by a loud sting in your mind. 

You blink, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you as you slowly sink back into your seat. The cool surface of the chair feels oddly grounding against the storm of thoughts swirling in your head.

Drew—that Drew, the one who had been your brother's rival, the one he'd spent years trying to beat—the one you lost your virginity to. 

The one…you slept with last night. Fuck- that’s why he looks so familiar! The face, his attitude, his jokes- shit. 

The memories come rushing in, vivid and jagged, each one like a slap in the face. 

You can almost hear the loud music from that frat party, the sound of Drew's voice as he took away your first time - when he rejected you. 

“I really like you,” he suddenly admits. 

“But you don’t want me,” you say, finding his sudden confession really stupid, not at all flattering to hear. 

“Don’t say that.”

“But that’s what you said.”

“Do you like me too?”

You blink again, trying to steady your breath, but the air feels thick. 

Your chest tightens, the pressure of everything unsaid between you and Drew settling heavily on your shoulders.

You’ve always thought you were over it—over Drew, over that night, over everything. But the realization hits you now, sharp and unexpected: you weren’t.

You force yourself to focus on Luke’s voice again, but it’s like you’re hearing it underwater. Everything feels muffled, distorted. 

“I mean, every time I see that fucking face, I just wanna-“

Shit. Tonight. Your date with Drew. 

“-Worse, coach thinks we’re ‘prefect’ together, so I always have to look out for him-“

You no longer have the courage to meet him, the confidence you’ve gathered all destroyed, shattered by your own thoughts. It’s as if every word Luke says is a reminder of how messy everything with Drew really is.

“Fuck- I deserved that win more than anything,” he mumbles on, pettiness written all over his face. 

Luke’s words echo in your mind, but you don’t respond. 

Your thoughts are loud enough to drown out everything else.

——

Drew sits on the edge of the fountain, just outside the restaurant. The stone surface feels cool beneath him as he stares at the water, the soft ripples catching the dim light.

It’s been nearly thirty minutes, and ever so often, his eyes flicker upward, searching for any sign of you. He’s trying to steady his nerves, but the longer he waits, the more the uncertainty gnaws at him.

Did you stand him up?

He checks his phone screen again- hundreds of texts but none from you. 

A bitter smile tugs at his lips as he stares down at his lap, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. He’s just here, waiting, when the answer is so painfully obvious.

“Not a big deal,” Drew mutters to himself, trying to convince his racing thoughts otherwise. He repeats the words again, more firm this time, “not, a big deal.”

He sighs, his eyes darting around as he avoids the curious stares of passersby. The minutes drag on, each one heavier than the last. He waits. waits. and waits.

But you never show up.

-------------------------------

word count: 6.5k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: FINALLY. i sat down, stared at my laptop, and the words just exploded out of me. sorry i took so long T_T be a bae and ignore any typos xo

do you guys like smaller or bigger fonts? just found out how it change it, and must say, damnnnn. the difference it makes is crazy.

[rpking99]

Persona Part 1

Persona 3

Kotone Shiomi (FeMC)

Yukari Takeba

Mitsuru Kirijo

Fuuka Yamagishi

Aigis

Elizabeth

Metis

Persona Arena/Arena Ultimax

Labrys

Persona 4

Yuna Narukami (genderbent)

Chie Satonaka

Yukiko Amagi

Rise Kujikawa/Risette

Naoto Shirogane

Margaret

Marie

Izanami

Persona Dancing All Night

Kanami Mashita

Total Muses: 17

[goldsbitch]

Hypochondria

part 4 to p1, p2, p3

He can sense her emotions, she feels his pain. Baby steps, that's the only way to go.

author's note: guess who's back - and a promised smut chapter turned into slow burn. any reported typos are appreciated. there will be p5.

"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."

He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.

Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, head getting filled with desire and lust. Lando's lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.

"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."

Lando was on cloud nine. He was just staring at her as if she was a miracle. Her deep eyes unable to stay away from looking at him and lips that had a silent invitation written on them.

He was high on the way how relaxed she felt, proud that he made her feel like that. It was as if there was no yesterday or tomorrow. Just them and the couch. And after few moments of silence and collecting his bravery, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

It was clear to him from the moment he took her upper lip in that he'd give anything for this moment to take at least a thousand years. She did not hesitate and kissed him back immediately. The sweetest touch a woman can give. Leaned in and let nature do its miracles. He smiled into her lips and pushed himself closer to her, making her sink in the couch.

It was right then when a loud, impatient knock nearly sent them both into shock. Lando froze and back away from Y/N little bit, furious with whomever that dared to disturb a key moment in their lives.

"Lando, I apologize, but we have an urgent matter on our hands."

He rolled his eyes and let a deep breath out, recognizing the voice of his workoholic PR manager. This was not the first and probably the last time he had to tell his team off in the dark of the night. Internet never sleeps.

"Can it really not wait this time until tomorrow?" he said before he gave Y/N shameful and apologetic look. She just kept herself quiet, sunken into the comfy couch.

"I'm afraid we will need some immediate action," came from behind the door after another impatient knock.

Lando got his phone out to check the time, only to see 17 missed calls from several people.

"Ok, I'm coming."

He half opened the door to a very flustered PR manager, who looked like he was about to announce a coming tornado. Lando just raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to spill the beans and then planning on dismissing him.

"Anita released a break up TikTok. It's going viral."

As far as emergencies go, this one felt to Lando like a second-tier one. He was more concerned about the anxiety he felt coming from Y/N. Kind of wished she was kept out of it, for her own good.

"I'm sure we can address this in few hours," Lando replied calmly.

"She accused you of cheating. In a very colorful manner, I must say," the guy continued, as if he was not confident enough to fully explain the situation. "I'm in touch with her publicist, so that we can come up with a joint statement online. Apparently she won't talk to anyone but you."

Lando stayed silent, the only thing he really wanted was to close the door and return to the couch.

"We can't have another cheating scandal. McLaren will get involved," he pleaded once again in hopes of finally convincing Lando.

Deep breath. "Sure. Can I meet you at the lobby or somewhere in few minutes?" Lando caved in. A puzzled look flashed over his PR's manager, because usually Lando preferred to solve his crises in the comfort of his suite. The driver hoped no comment would come his way. After few seconds, the guy finally nodded.

"Understand, sure. I'll see if we can get the conference room."

He closed the door and tried to brace himself for any type of reaction Y/N might have. But deep inside he knew - seen it countless times. She abruptly got up, fixed her clothes, flashed him only one quick look before avoiding his face completely.

"Um, I'm gonna-"

"Yeah," he said, letting her pass by. The reality hit hard. She barely knew him. Somehow, the air got flooded with inescapable loneliness.

//

Y/N tried her best to follow her daily routine the following week. The memory of her running away from Lando's room like a little child chasing her like a nightmare. It was just so humiliating. The guilt, unjustified, was eating her up. She tried to stay away from social media, but her will was not strong enough. Late night scrolling included absorbing lot of Lando hate.

He also did his best to keep himself busy and focus on his job. If it had been any other person, he'd already be chasing Y/N down and try to reason with her, get this experience behind them and keep starting fresh. Perhaps he was lucky, that he knew her and if he's pushed immediately, she'd just hide even more.

He found himself on the track during free practice, constantly stealing glances over to the medical tents, just to get a glimpse of his guilt-ridden soulmate. All he wanted to do was shake some sense to her. That evening he finally snapped. No more hiding. He was about to get creative.

So there he was, alone once again, in a random hotel room, in a city he barely remembered the name of, trying to get a hand of morse code. Something he never thought would be his issue, ever. It was a shot in the dark. Pinch a message into his arm and hoping she'd understand his intention. After all, she felt his pain, so he figured if he was annoying enough, she'd have no choice but to show up. Many curse words were uttered about the absurdity and difficulty of it all, before Lando got a hand of it. He opted to focus on the rhytmn and after he felt confident enough, abandoned tapping into a table and began pinching his left hand.

Let's talk. Room 1014. Please.

Over and over again. It was so incredibly annoying. But, he was going to persevere even if it meant having a bruise tomorrow.

After what felt like like seven thousand years - a knock on the door.

This was it, he thought as he opened the door to equally annoyed person. She shot arrows from her eyes and he could not help but smirk. She cracked the code, but he won.

"Now, let's get one thing clear," she opened with, hands firmly on her hips, "you are not going to use this trick outside of an emergency. Ok?". Her face did this strange twitch, she obviously had a hard time admitting he won that round. He leaned over the door frame, not caving in to her anger. Stood like a patient anchor, waiting for the sea to calm down. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, failing at keeping her look so stern. It's been few days since they last locked eyes. She could practically sink in his. He just gave her a small nod, definitely not planning on misusing this ever again. Absolutely not.

"I'm glad you understood," he said and let her walk in. Was he nervous? That was probably the closest thing to describe it.

"I don't know the Morse code, so that made it super fun," she proclaimed and stopped in the middle of the living room, not sitting down on any of the chairs or couches.

"Me neither. But you better learn it, you never know..." he teased and walked dangerously close to her. She kept her gaze down.

She spoke before he could say any more cheeky lines. "So, I'm here. Anything specific you wanted to say that exceeded your ability of speaking in Morse code?" Her attitude hurt. However, he was not going to let her push him away so easily. "Y/N, this is not going to work on me. You can't push me away so easily, so just try and stop it. Please." Big gulp on her part followed by a light nod. "Good. Listen, I don't want to let this fizzle out so easily. It's hard to think about anything else once I've met you. I'm sorry about the whole break up mess. It's not fair to you. But, in my defense, I had no idea I'd just randomly be sat next to...you," he said, practically breathing out the last word.

She began walking frantically. "It's...um, it's a lot. Your world. And then the fact you seem to know things and are so far ahead in this game."

"It's not a game to me, Y/N," he said, watching her pace around the room.

She stopped by the bed and sat on it, finally able to look at him again. "Ok, bad word, but still," she paused and searched for the right words. "We have nothing to connect with...I mean nothing real."

Lando was not going to buy into doubts. His mind was set. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat next to her.

"Does it scare you? That you are tied to me basically against your will?" he asked the one thing he was afraid to hear the answer to. But he figured that the beginning was never suppose to be easy anyway.

"A little bit. Actually yes, it does," she said, in a strangely releaved tone and his heart sank just few stories lower. Lost in his own head, he nearly missed her giving up on sitting and landing on her back with a thud, eyes locked with the ceiling.

"I never liked being pushed into things. It's my life, I get to call the shots," she began to let her thoughts run freely.

"Choosing something that comes to you willingly does not have mean giving up your free will...I'd just like to at least give this a chance. I know already that I can't be your friend," he whispered, turned his look towards her and slowly lowered himself on his back as well, lost in his thoughts once again.

Lando's body laid still, but his heart was beating as if he was in the final quali lap. He had the advantage, drew the better card. Unique insight into another human's soul. Short cuts and few cheat answers for any test ahead of them. So why did it make him feel all the more lonely? He was reaching out, confused in the exact same capacity as she was, but she was not giving him much back. Yet. If was obvious. He was miles ahead of her, not thanks to his own doing. He could be there for her, but it would take some time and a lot of luck for her to be able to be there for her.

"Can you stay here? For the night?" he asked in a soft low voice, unable to hide his own vulnerability. "Not like, you know," he added immediately, hoping he comes off the least creepy as possible, "Just like this." Baby steps. He was praying for just that.

The body next to him also laid still in a very stiff manner, the exact opposite of relaxed. But the pull towards him was just too loud to resist. It was stronger than her. Curiosity tripped over the tiny fear inside her, grabbed the innate desire for human connection by the hand, and together opened the door for Lando to enter.

"Yes," she whispered, wondering if there is anything she wanted to add.

A small smile crept onto Lando's face. He got up and shot the light off. Both of them settled in a more relaxed pose, albeit still fully dressed. If by some miracle he manages to fall asleep, he will be waking up next to this magnificent, magical being for the first time. And hopefully not the last.

They laid next to each other, like the strangers they were, for few minutes, before she found her own little hand reaching out for his. Soft fingers mixed with his. At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. Lando's heart almost stopped, his breath caught in and resulted in gulp, too loud for the current setting. She could not help but smile and tried to hide it with pressing her lips together - even though it was dark night and both of them had their eyes closed. He mimicked her movements and traced her fingers as well. Every little place he touched burned with intoxicating intensity. He held her index finger lightly while she brushed up and down his thumb.

For the first time in years, Lando was careful. He'd rather lie next to her in silence than risking her wanting him to leave. The guilt from bruising her with his crash still hadn't left his mind. But when her hand crept more and more inside of his, he could not help but circle around it, until he was covering her hand completely. The air was still. Two scared souls discovering each other, tiptoeing around as if they were made of glass. Once Lando started drawing little circles on the palm of her hand, he finally felt her beginning to relax. He was still trying to get his mind wrapped around how the whole connection worked. Perhaps the more open she was to communicating with him, the more of a window he got. His next words slipped through without much of a thought.

"I've dreamt about you probably thousand nights."

Y/N could not recall the last time she heard a sentence that sounded so honest. Raw, it was almost childlike. She thought about her own countless nights when she slept alone and longed for a soul to crawl to. And also all those times she wasn't alone in the middle of the night, yet it still felt like eating someone else's dinner. The emptiness never truly filled. Hand never fitting someone else's like a well-fitted glove. Was there ever anyone who told her something like this before? Probably not. Of course not.

"I'm scared," she repeated.

"I know," he smirked for himself only. "I can feel it...But can you please tell me what's scaring you at this moment? I'd love to understand."

This time it was her who chuckled and squeezed his hand a bit. His heart once again beating so loudly he was scared she could hear it.

"I randomly meet this man, this devilisly handsome guy, who seems to know things I've never even told anyone, is hyperaware of my emotions, as if they were his own...How am I suppose to resist this?"

"Why would you?"

"If we proceed with this, I am basically allowing you to become a weapon designed to destroy me. If, or more likely when, I fall for you...How can anyone else ever top that? If you decide that you're bored with me, I'll quite literally only be left with bruises."

He listened to every word, as if it was a gospel, and this time took a second to calculate his response. Lando opened his eyes to try and see a glimpse of her face in the dead of night, only to find her already looking at him.

"As far as I remember, you were always a part of my life. The one constant that does not leave," he said and licked his dry lips. If she was becoming vulnerable, he'd have to do the same. "If I fuck this up, if you decide that I am not worth spending time with and if you walk away...I'll still be left with the glimpses. I'll have to watch from afar, knowing you don't feel this. Funnily enough, I'd argue that you have the option to choose. I don't."

"And do you even want it? Would you-" she tried to continue with her question, but he interrupted her immediately.

"Of course. Hundred times over. I know you're scared, but I am scared too. Because there is a perfect piece of puzzle right in front of me and if I fuck it up, I am ruined for life."

She only saw a small reflection of light in his eyes, but that was enough to understand he was serious. Her shoulders relaxed and she let a breath she didn't know she had been holding, out.

"Well, good to know you are a dramatic person," she responded, trying to lighten up the mood.

It worked, his small smirk entered the chat again. "Yeah well, get use to it," he said with a new found confidence, tried his luck once more and scooted over to her just a little bit.

"Sorry, there was a hard spot in the matrace," he said cheekily and closed his eyes, trying to play it cute.

His body heat radiated towards her. "Of course, a hard spot in this top-of-the-world matrace," she questioned his argument with a smile, his magic getting her head-over-heels.

"Yes, I'll complain with to the staff tomorrow, these things can really fuck up your sleep, you know."

"So true. And what, have you solved it now?" Another door opened. Lando smiled.

"Still not perfect," he remarked, pretended to have a moment to think and finally moved all the way next to her and put his arm around her. "Yeah, this is the only way I'm afraid."

She was glad his eyes were closed, because her smile was impossible to hide. Both of them were fully aware there is no hard spot on the matrace. "Of course it is," she commented, as she settled down in his embrace.

Her face was now settled in crook of his neck, her uneven breaths leaving goosebumps on his skin. His light stubble teasing her forehead. Once again, Lando was overwhelmed just how well she fit in his embrace. He had to actively try and breathe regularly, because he was anxious about giving away just how much he was enjoying having her in his embrace. Her hand was pressed against his chest and Y/N had to fight every cell in her body, because the urge to explore his body was overcoming her. Lando shifted a bit, having to to try and find a spot where his belt wasn't pressing on his body in a way that hurt. Immediately, he felt a sudden wave of guilt coming from her and she bolted straight up. Had he fucked it all up? He cursed himself, he should have just pushed through it.

He forgot to take in the fact she felt his pain. "What's wrong?" he asked shyly, as he also sat up to match her moves.

She took a deep breath. "I don't want to seem like I'm suggesting something, but can we get out of our daily clothes? I hate sleeping like that." Who would like that anyway, was the thought that crept into Lando's mind, but he kept it for himself, more than overjoyed that he didn't have to suggest that. "Sure, no problem."

"Do you have some t-shirt I could borrow?" she asked, turning on the light next to his bed, sitting with her back turned to him, perhaps trying to hide away. Lando tried his best not to get shaken up and loose his cool. This wasn't her running away and it was also not her suggesting anything.

"Of course," he said and got up to search up the best clean t-shirt her had. She took a deep breath as she tried not to stare, guessing by the sounds that he was getting undressed. But, as she did, she was happy he did not see her blush. Just like he did before, she forgot to take in account that he felt her sudden arousal and curiosity without having to look at her. For a change, he was happy he had his advantage. He peeked over to her, seeing her abrupt turn back. It was hard not to be amused by her.

"Here you go," he said as he strolled back over to her and handed her his t-shirt. "Don't worry, I won't look," he informed her and as the cheeky guy he was deep down, added his signature wink. "I'm sure there is an extra tooth brush in the bathroom, if you wanna join," he continued and walked over to the other side of the suite, hoping she was watching him walk around in boxers only.

Finally having some distance and a minute to contain herself, she carefully undressed, leaving on only her panties and his shirt on. Only then she noticed just how intoxicating his natural smell was. Knowing well enough she was doomed.

When Y/N finally joined him in the bathroom, he gave her the second toothbrush in silence and kept brushing his own teeth. It was refreshing seeing her in such an intimate setting. He tried as best as he could not to notice just how hot she looked in his t-shirt. Watching her in the reflection, he realized he never appreciated a moment like that with anyone else before. He smiled at her, because he could see her shy nature peeking through causing her hair behind her ear.

She was about to join him back in the bed when she saw him placed right in the middle of the bed, far from when was last time she approached him like that.

"It's the hard spot, there is no other way," he brushed over it nonchalantly and tucked himself in the bed. "Come on, here, here," he patted a spot next to him. In the dim light, with shadows only highlighting his toned chest, curly hair falling over to his eyes, innocent smile and opened arms, he was like a mystical creature created only to entrap Y/N. At least, that's how that felt. No way back.

She slipped in the bed with him, to the exact position as they were just minutes ago and turned of the light once again. This time, Lando was way more relaxed even Y/N noticed the difference. With each passing moment it was becoming less and less stiff or awkward. Comfort replacing natural stress of sharing a bed with a stranger for the first time. For a brief second, it was as if they'd done this every night before drifting off to sleep. Lando was happy to take things slow. Not expecting anything more. He was content with knowing she was not planning on leaving him there alone that night and that was enough. Not for Y/N. Her body was acting way before her mind could stop her. Her now warm fingers started drawing little stars on his exposed chest. It was peaceful. Until her finger moved a little lower. Another gulp from Lando. She felt him tightening his grip on her.

"Careful now...I might get the wrong idea," he breathed out for only her to hear.

Their lips were so riddiculously close, yet too far away. The only thing she wanted to do was kiss him. All restraint suddenly gone. But she needed to be sure - did he wanted to kiss her? If she dared to ask him, he'd laugh out loud at the obviousness of it all. Poor guy didn't notice her desire because he spent all of his energy trying to hide his.

She licked her lips. "Wrong idea...like sending me away?"

Loud sigh from Lando. "No..the wrong wrong idea," he whispered, being so close to her she could feel his soft breath, as he started to move his hard up her arm, under the t-shirt he gave her. She became very aware of the fact she was not wearing a bra, something Lando noticed the moment she came to the bathroom. His arm stopped momentarily at her shoulder. " Wrong idea that you want me to do this..." he continued moving his hand again, "...or this," reached up to her collarbone while pressing her closer to him with his other arm. "Or heaven forbid..." he whispered a question as his lips were nearly touching hers. Lando was too scared to make the first move, still afraid she might vanish into thin air.

She was brave enough to close the gap. "Or this." With that, she kissed him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

@ushygushybaby

[nana-au]

𝐈 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄...

 𝜗𝜚 Satoru Gojo Prince AU ♡ part six

 𝜗𝜚 Summary: satoru dreams of you; eagerly awaiting your response. story summary based off of this drabble

𝜗𝜚 Warnings: cunnilingus, male masturbation. MDNI

 𝜗𝜚 wc: 1,596

𝜗𝜚 an: this update is entirely skippable, and i am requesting minors do not engage with this specific part. adults who are not a fan of explicit smut should skip this part too. the story reads normally with or without this chapter. thank you for respecting my wishes.

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

Your quill hits paper once Satoru’s head hits his pillows and the potential contents of your note send his tired mind reeling. It’s only expected for his dreams to contain the potential outcome of your writing. It starts with you - all teary-eyed and sniffly as you scratch down your fears for Satoru’s eyes to consume. You tell him how it terrifies you to make your feelings known to the world and enter the judgmental eyes of the public and through the dark smudges of your ink he sees your blown out pupils - pulling him into your figure through the words on the page. Your body melts from his touch after being apart for so long - your sobs quieting as Satoru soothes you like he’s meant to. His hand finds your hair and he pets you lovingly, hushing your worries. “I’ll protect you, I promise,” his mouth tickles the curve of your ear as he whispers to you. “I won’t let them speak poorly about you,” he clicks his tongue, like the thought of someone daring to talk down on you deeply offends him. “You’re safe with me,” his lips touch your ear as he plants kisses, hands roaming your body to try to remedy your time apart. His words are doing something to you and he knows because he simply knows you too well. You can’t hide the way your body presses against his when he brushes his fingertips against your sensitive skin, exciting the Prince from how responsive you are. He pinches the fabric of your dress, the cotton material turning into luxurious silk that glides between his fingertips. 

His world spins and the two of you are in bed now, the blue night gown adorning your body slowly peels up from his doing, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. “Satoru-” you purr, biting your lip as his hands grab the plump fat of your sides, massaging his fingers into your thighs. You sigh, breath catching when his large palms grab you possessively; working his fingers deep into the muscles of your legs, his thumbs coming dangerously close to where your thighs meet your center - hiccupping as he pays extra attention to the spot that makes your stomach lurch and toes curl. “Satoru-” you whine again, noticing he is using the back of his hands to slowly inch your nightgown higher onto your body, threatening to reveal what’s underneath. You call out his name once more and he revels in the sound; adoring the syrupy tone you use to say his name. It sounds sleepy and desperate, with a hint of uncertainty. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks upon noticing your hesitation; his voice an octave deeper than usual and his eyes as dark as his intentions. His question is a nod back to the first intimate moment you both shared, knowing that you would recognize it too - relying on the pent up emotions of the unsatisfying end to your shared kiss to will you to let him continue. You look back at him, lids heavy with restless desire and he knew you wouldn’t say no. Couldn’t say no. “I’ll go slow,” he promises you, easing your apprehension and allowing you to melt into his touch. He adds his mouth into the mix, leaving slow, sloppy kisses to the skin of your inner thighs and your hips buck from the attention. You’re watching him intently, your unwavering gaze following his every move as he marks your body lovingly. He doesn’t bother to keep it clean - unable to stop his spit from staining your skin as he sloppily kisses your warm body. He makes a move to lift up your nightgown to your belly button - exposing the wet patch of your white panties while Satoru’s face rests between your thighs. He can sense how shy you suddenly become, your hand covering your mouth as you gawk at his blue eyes - glued to your twitching center. His thumb reaches up, cautiously swiping at the wet fabric of your gusset; gauging your reaction. You squirm, letting out a squeak and he continues prodding at your clothed entrance; dragging his knuckle against your folds. Your panties mold to the shape of your plump lips and Satoru shudders. His thumb inches up to your clit, softly circling it and taking note of the way your hips shudder from his curious attention. Satoru had never been with a woman and while he rubbed you through the thin fabric of your silk panties he took note of every curve of your twitching center. All though a virgin; Satoru had enough of a grasp through his extensive research he found in the pages of his favorite erotic literature. He was sure you would enjoy what he wanted to do to you - trusting the words on the pages he studied late at night while picturing you. “Such a beautiful and deserving Princess,” he mumbles, fingers still prodding and rubbing your puffy folds. You jump from the nickname, unsure of the new title he placed on you as he continued his sweet talking. “No one could ever keep this from me,” he spoke, “-and they would die from my hands if they tried,” he promises, eerily serious before leaning in to kiss your cunt; lips pursed against your pulsing clit. He loops his fingers into the gusset of your panties, pulling them down slowly; watching the sweetness pooling from your center sticking to the silk, creating strings while he dragged the article from your center down your legs. He licked his lips, already anticipating what he was going to do - enjoying how you fully trusted him - not asking questions but allowing him to show you just how much he loved you. It’s almost puppy-like the way his tongue lolls out of his mouth and attaches to your clit, dragging the rough muscle against the pearl between your legs. He messily licks, not bothering to make deliberate attacks to your core; instead he can’t help himself from desperately lapping up your juices. His tongue smears his saliva filthily against your wet heat, delving his tongue into your cunt to taste you from the source; groaning as the sweetness graces his taste buds. The saccharine juices do little to slow his mounting desire, causing him to grind his member against the mattress, itching for some kind of release while he gives you yours. He takes a moment to look up at you - your eyes painting the story of your love. Full of adoration, loyalty, lust, and weakness that he recognizes from before his world fell apart. Through his dreams he can feel the dagger of your raw emotion piercing his dormant heart - opening himself up to the reality of what he always knew. He needed you. All of you - and you did too. He was sure of it. He would do whatever it takes to see you look at him that way again.

While his subconscious processes the meaning of you in his dreams he continues performing cunnilingus. His spit trails from his lips while he messily kisses you and you’re squirming - unable to slow the roll of your hips while he repeatedly kisses and licks your sensitive bundle. “I need you,” you needily whine, gripping his white locks and keeping his soft lips attached to your lower pair, moaning breathlessly. “Satoru…” you’re begging and he peeks up at you, dragging his tongue slowly while he waits for you to make your point. “I want you Satoru,” you trail off, chest stuttering with every weak breath you take. Satoru pauses, turning his head to leave chaste kisses to your inner thigh before asking you to use your words. “All of it Satoru,” you cry, “I want all of it. All of you, Satoru,” you beg and he groans loudly, his brain growing fuzzy realizing what you were asking of him. He becomes too enthusiastic though, dick painfully hard and tip weepy - staining his sleep trousers which causes him to stir - regretfully departing him from the sensual scene his mind conjured during his slumber. 

“No!” he chokes out, waking up to a cold bed. His cock pulses regardless of the fact you’re not there and he reaches his hand down, tugging roughly on his length. He bites his lip, the sweaty white strands of his hair stick against his forehead while his taut stomach lurches every time his fist meets his sensitive tip - squeezing it harshly - picturing your squelching cunt instead of his pathetic hand. He reaches his climax quickly, using the visions of you begging for him in his dream to guide him to his peak. He pants while he cums, slowing down his strokes while his hot sperm spurts against his belly. He hisses from the contact - his surroundings slowly coming back to him while he gasps for breaths. He closes his eyes, scrunching them to distract from the feeling of tears starting to pool. 

He craves your body long after his release, unable to get the image of you underneath him out of his mind. And maybe it’s denial or delusion or lunacy or maybe even all three but he knows that is how you truly feel. It has to be. How could it not? How could he be the only one tortured by the absence of his other half? How could you not feel the need between you two that had been there since the beginning. Not just a sexual need - but an emotional and physical need too. The need to touch pinkies…to touch lips. 

He anxiously awaited the contents of your letter. 

┊p1┊p2┊p3┊p4┊p5┊p6┊𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠... p7┊

taglist: skipping for nsfw updates

(ty for all the support! comment to be added/removed)