#quite messy if I do say so myself
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
404sketches · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The antifa terrorist and the transgender worm. They sure do make a cute couple, don't they?
571 notes · View notes
james-spooky · 3 months ago
Text
this is a test
#i’m bored i just wanna see how many words i can put in the tags like will it just keep going on forever or will they stop me like i know th#the tag limit is 30 ok so the iindividual tag limit is 140 characters that’s actually so rude i wanted to keep going forever and see how lo#g this could be but i guess we can do this 30 times ok what the flip should i talk about hm i was playing the guitar today but i rage quit#ause the song was hard and hurting my fingers! ermmmmm it was sunny ok this is boring let’s think of more exciting things to type hmmm acco#ding to all known laws of aviation- jk i’m not doing the bee movie script but can you imagine i think that would be funny hmmmmm words i lo#e podcasts so bad that’s a fact no one has ever know before my blog definitely isn’t all about audio dramas the people are definitely not a#ready aware of this jesus christ this is only the seventh one of these this is actually quite a lot of space i underestimated how much i ha#e to type btw there’s probably spelling mistakes in here somewhere or autocorrect has been annoying but i cba to retype anything so i don’t#care lolllllllllllll how do you feel about oscar malevolent i feel a normal amount actually (lie) yk what i really miss sam and colin alrea#y like i’m actually not okay i really hope we hear from sam again in s2 and also colin ngl i hope ur in the computers soz or not dead miss#im like a bastard my paranoid it king ok erm im running out of things to say um heartstopper s3 was crazy good i cried lmao i love gay peop#e so much it’s crazy i hope it gets renewed for s4 i need to reread the comics lowkey and the books they’re all so talented for being so yo#ng it scares me ngl !!!!!! the tmagp hiatus is getting to me slightly like february in reality is soon and not that far away for how podcas#ts go but seriously how am i supposed to live until then without knowing what happened. please colin be alive. ive only just realised i can#use fills stops. sorry that’s made everything a bit messy. i should’ve been doing this before. whoops. anyways. hi mutuals i love you all s#much i hope you enjoy my rambles and shitposts cause i enjoy yours very much! never think you’re being annoying i literally don’t care be a#annoying as you want posts as much as you want i am ur biggest fan <3 im getting a bit fatigued from typing like my mind is blank basically#now it’s just turned into a. stream of consciousness but i don’t really have any thoughts to put here idk if we’re halfway ermmmm omg it’s#lmost halloween how crazy is that time is flying by i kinda forgot it was october lmao. it’s wild how it’s basically almost christmas. like#what. that’s illegal. how is it wintertime again. what the flip. i miss summer already take me backkkkkkk. i hope my phone doesn’t crash or#smth cause i’ve not saved this as a draft and i cba to do any of this again. maybe i should save it. ok i will when i reach the next tag bc#ok it stopped me but i’ve saved it and holy jesus it’s a lot of text im just sat here giggling there’s really no point to any of this other#than me being bored sooooooooooooooooo (imagine if i just did the letter o for every character wouldn’t that be crazy) so wait there’s 140#haracters and 30 tags so what’s 30 x 140. someone hurry. i haven’t done maths lessons in two and a half years i’ve forgotten everything wai#let me get the calculator app ok im back it said 4100 characters so. i dont know how many words that roughly is but its. a decent amount. o#what the flip why am i wasting tag space with maths. i hate maths. my screen time has been actually soooooooooo bad recently like damn some#one put my phone in a block of ice please joshua gillespie style. my mind is running out of things to say. do i talk about myself. im james#im 18 which is weird cause wdym im an adult go away. ive run out of facts. i love podcasts and procedural dramas that stupid firefighter sh#w is my life unfortunately. i think chappell roan should be the queen of england instead of king charles. i dont like having a king cause#ho needs men in power not me. ok um this is the last tag equal rights for all. yolo. the time will pass anyways! thank u boredom ok bye gn:
9 notes · View notes
girlivealwaysbean · 1 month ago
Text
so tired of being a shitty bandaid for my parents' loneliness. like have u ever considered you passed your curse to me and some days i feel so lonely it's like i can't breathe around the emptiness in my chest????
#my dad is like#you can't just be in your room all the time then what's the point of you living here if ill be sitting here all alone then#and im like bhai what#mom also says this to me she always wanted to sit and rant and she used to say you never talk to me#both of these people don't even fucking get it that they're not even interested in me listening to me#mom just wants a sounding board for her venting and dad just wants someone to pretend everything is okay and happy all the time and#the only important things in life is the immediate present and food and making money and stuff#i swear this is why i feel so ????? about myself my identity like no i can't describe myself#because there is no myself there is just a white sheet of paper where people can write whatever they want#im so tired man#why can't they just go and live with each other and leave us kids out of it 😭🙏#like i genuinely am getting teary eyed about such a small thing but god. i want to have my own life so bad. im sick of feeling all these#complicated emotions guilt and anger and pity and obligation and duty like just god pls fuck off#people my age are so fucking mature and put together than me so confident so clear about their path#have friends partners breakups parties just so many new memories#and im just stuck.#and im fine with it now because i get it studying is really important and this is quite basic requirement to be perfect at#atleast my syllabus to survive in this industry#but then. let me do that only. please don't make me pretend to like you like spending time with you and everything#ive hated you for like. idk 14 whole years. since the first time you hit mom in front of me#i remember it so well like my childhood broke that day you slammed her into a wall for some stupid fight and her hair was all messy and#untied and you shouted so loud i thought surely everyone can hear. and then you left to roam around the city at night with your friends#i remember this because my mom and my sister sent me to check up on you with the excuse of a painting of a parrot that i had made#i didn't understand anything back then#but yeah fuck you fuck you fuck you for being so fucking delusional thinking i love you or something#ive prayed to god that you die and i still do#it would directly mean 4 people being happy#anyway#dni#this was meant to be fun and short lol fuck
4 notes · View notes
red-moon-at-night · 1 year ago
Text
I am very Normal
by the way, if anyone has a higher quality image of the back of the Undercover CD I would be most grateful. because I am low-key fighting for my life here with some of these runes
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
nereidprinc3ss · 5 months ago
Text
kiss it better
Tumblr media
in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you
18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D
“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”
Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 
“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”
You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 
“This is pretty good.”
“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 
When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…
He’s just so alarmed?
“Honey, your knee.”
“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”
The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 
“What did you do?”
You snort. 
“What did you do, Spencer?”
It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 
“What do you mean? I did something?”
“Babe.”
The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 
“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”
Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 
“Oh.”
God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 
“What’s wrong?”
The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 
“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”
His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 
“No. My iron levels are optimal.”
Naturally. 
“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”
“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”
Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”
“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”
“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”
At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 
“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 
“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”
You laugh. 
“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”
“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”
“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”
He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 
“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”
“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 
“Never.”
You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 
“You could kiss them better.”
Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 
“I might just do that.”
4K notes · View notes
sunniepoo · 6 months ago
Note
plsplspls more mean and icky stepbro!rafe x innocent/pure!reader 🙏 i lovee the way u write him 💕💕
maybe something like stebro!rafe teaching r how to kiss n get herself off n all that orr maybe sleepy sex <3
౨ৎ 🍓。˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎
“ngh-uh” you pant, body restless as your fingers sloppily slip in and out of your dripping cunt. you’ve never felt like this, never felt so desperate; so unexplainably horny
you hadn’t expected the whine that left your mouth to come at the high volume that it did, but you were just so frustrated; your fingers weren’t hitting that one spot you craved them to. when all your friends said they did this , you expected it would be easy, not like this
all your thoughts were interrupted as a harsh knock on the door followed by the booming voice of rafe caused you to scramble, finding a spare top and shorts to chuck on before answering
“jesuuus christ open the door already” the older blonde shouts, pounding the door aggressively
you rush and open the door slightly to reveal the frame of a shirtless, messy haired rafe - you could see the slight pop of the veins in his arms and most importantly the bulge in his pants. “what’s taking you so long” you couldn’t miss the slight smirk and teasing tone coating his voice “hm?” he questions again
“uh-j-just” the natural panic was evident in your eyes as they widened and your eyebrow raised like a deer caught in headlights “ just tired”
you couldn’t help the groan that comes out as he enters your room. “raaafe” your whine to stop him falls on deaf ears as he sits on your bed. “please leave” you huff out, just desperate to get back to working your pussy away and get the release you’ve been dying for; he was ruining everything
“c’mon sit” the older cameron pats of his lap, calling you over as if you were his little puppy “raafe please go” you would’ve typically never gave this much attitude to the brooding male, him acknowledging your presence was a once in a lifetime thing
“don’t make me repeat myself” despite his menacing tone his gaze was enchanting, you’ve never understood how someone so beautiful could be so cruel at times.
with a couple of huffs and puffs you find yourself making your way over to the tall blond, making yourself home at one of his legs as the large surface of his palm guided you onto him.you had to bite back the whimper that threatened to leave your mouth as your clit rubbed against the front of his leg
it was confusing to say the least - why was he being so nice? but you were just a girl and it was so so so tempting to just lean back into the chest of the older cameron , letting his warmth fill you
you could feel his warm breath fall up on your shoulders, tingling the bottom of your ears “w-what are you doing here” you finally breathe out, finding it impossibly hard to not just rub against his leg
“just wanted to let you know that our rooms are right next to each other” he whispers, it was so oddly sensual and it couldn’t help but make your poor little pussy clench and pulse around nothing. it made your head tumble you shouldn’t feel this way about him; not your new big brother
“i already know tha-” you start but are interrupted by the boy beneath you, eyes looking at you intently while his fingers dance along your waist
“and the walls aren’t as thick as you think, so you know i hear everything”
oh!
you were speechless - quite literally, you opened your mouth to say something and nothing but a small squeak came out and before you know it tears were welling up and your eyes as you were starting to breakdown
“hey hey hey” he rushes to speak, rubbing a what was meant to be soothing arm across the sides of you but only causes you to hide in shame “don’t stress… i came here to tell you that i can y’know help” his fingers making their way down to your thighs, sliding up to cup your pussy “just some lessons”
“what” you didn’t expect your words to come out so harshly, as you look at him with wide curious eyes - could he really?
and that’s how you found yourself legs spread open, with rafe cameron fingers rubbing on your sensitive little clit, one finger slipping into your cunt reaching oh so deep. they had turned less into lesson but more into your older stepbrother straight up fingering you in your bed
“oooooh” you moan out, his finger knuckle deep in your needy little pussy hitting places you couldn’t even imagine “feels so ngh- good” he couldn’t help but stick another finger into your wet cunt watching your head go to complete bliss as it clenches desperately around the length of his fingers while he gently pistons them in and out
“could make you feel like this all the time” he breathes out, his own hard on grinding against the plump of your ass “little sluts like you love it”
the coarse whine that left your mouth signalled your upset as you looked at him wide eyed with your lips pouting. the breathy laugh that leaves him is followed by a soft kiss to the tops of your head “s’kay you’re my little slut”
“i-i ngh- don’t think” you could barely make out words as his fingers speed up to an impossibly fast pace, the coil in your stomach was starting to loosen and oh it felt so good! “w-we should do this agai-” the moan that left your mouth was almost pornographic, heaving loudly as his thumb goes to harshly rub on your clit
“hm and why is that” he teases increasing his pace and pressure, hitting all the right spots - this was so so wrong
“you’re family; you’re my stepbrother” you felt yourself finally get closer, like that ache was finally going to be cured- he must’ve had magic in his fingers with the way he was making you feel
and just as that coil in your stomach was about to unfold, he stops and even with your grinding against him and the endless whimpers he doesn’t continue
“why did you stop?” the question comes out a lot more pathetic than you expected, “well you said it, we shouldn’t be doing this, so i guess i’ll just g-” despite his words he makes no efforts to leave but that doesn’t stop your from whining and holding him tightly
“no no no…. i didn’t mean it” you admit, voice all weak and needy - all you want-no needed was him to fuck you with his fingers all messy and mean, there was no point in trying to hide it
“that’s my girl” the soft kiss is a stark contrast to the rough and nasty pistoning of his fingers, messing up your poor cunt but bringing you closer to your high
“yes yes yes” you thanked god that no one was home tonight as the loud moan left your mouth as your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, your high washing over you - leaving you putty in his arms
maybe rafe wasn’t so mean after all
౨ৎ 🍓。˚🍰♡ ˚₊‧ ︎
3K notes · View notes
jjunieworld · 1 month ago
Text
EASY ACCESS ˒˒ 이희승
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
after a whole year together, heeseung suddenly breaks up with you, to your surprise. mere days later, you see him at a party with another girl. you decide to do the only thing you could think of—get back at him. except… it doesn’t go quite to plan.
pairing ⸝⸝ lee heeseung 𝑥 fem!reader feat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥!𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦
genre ⋆ 📄 ⸝⸝ exes to ???, smut with a tiny bit of plot, some angst because i can’t control myself i’m sorry
warnings ⸝⸝ unprotected sex, hard dom!heeseung, jealousy, possessiveness, mirror sex, bathroom sex, very very messy and rough sex (he loves it messy), multiple orgasms, ruined makeup, fingering, clit stimulation, slight dacryphilia, hands on neck (not quite choking), overstimulation, creampie, hair pulling (f. rec), backshots, brief blowjob / deepthroating, manhandling, dirty talk
kipo’s note ⸝⸝ once again pushing the wc for my drabbles lmao.. haven’t wrote exes getting together again in such a long time, so here you all go, served up to you on a silver platter!! sorry for all the rough sex lately, i’m such a hard/mean dom girlie… hehe enjoy!! ^^
͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 2.8k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
Tumblr media
you didn’t even need to feel his burning gaze following your every move to know that his eyes were on you—and only you. it was what you had hoped for, and everything was going to plan.
to be honest, you weren’t listening to a word that jake was saying. you were too busy looking at heeseung from your peripheral vision, seeing the anger build up in him brick by brick until you practically saw steam coming out of his ears.
you subtly watched as he glared at jake, glared at how close you were to him, and glared at how you smiled at whatever he was saying. you felt as his eyes trailed your body and the dress that you were wearing that was so short that your ass was almost hanging out and that barely covered your tits.
you were laying it on thick, but you didn’t think either boy knew it. jake told you a joke you didn’t care to listen to and you laughed flirtatiously, laying your hand on his bicep as you leaned into him. “you’re so funny,” you smiled, batting your eyelashes at him.
bullseye. you saw heeseung down his drink and push away from the wall he was leaning on, completely abandoning the girl he had brought with him to the party just mere days after the two of you had broken up. a whole year together completely forgotten, just like that.
well, two can play at that game.
you pretended not to notice him coming up to you. you acted shocked at the way his arm possessively wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. inside, you were laughing at how heeseung had barely contained the anger radiating off of him. “i think she’s had too much to drink,” was all he said, looking—or more like glaring—at jake instead of you. you didn’t even get to protest since heeseung was already dragging you away.
he pulled you into a less crowded hallway and you pushed him off of you. “you don’t get to do that—not anymore,” you exclaimed. you haven’t even had anything to drink tonight. there wasn’t even a cup in your hand.
heeseung didn’t get to act like the jealous boyfriend when he was the one who broke up with you. you just wanted him to get a taste of his own medicine. see how much he likes it when you’re all up on a guy days after your breakup.
“i can do whatever i want,” heeseung said matter-of-factly. he dragged you into the nearby bathroom and slammed the door behind you, locking it. “because whether you like it or not, you’re still mine.”
his words went straight to your core and you leaned backwards against the cold marble of the sink, trying to subtly press your thighs together. heeseung’s eyes trailed your body again—focusing particularly on the way the dress you wore adhered to your body—like a hunter watching its prey.
heeseung’s eyes snapped abruptly to yours and you watched the corner of his mouth curve into a smirk. “besides,” he said, stepping towards you and caging you against the sink with his body, “i don’t remember you telling me to stop.”
his finger hooked under the thin strap of your dress and slowly started to pull it down your shoulder. he leaned down and his breath fanned against your jaw.  “just like you aren’t stopping me now,” he continued. “this is what you really wanted, wasn’t it? were you that desperate for my touch after i dumped you that you resorted to making me jealous? you know i don’t play nice.”
you inhaled sharply, words caught in your throat. instead, you pushed him away from you again and heeseung stumbled backwards a few steps with a laugh. “you forget that i know you like the back of my hand,” he said.
glaring at him, you crossed your arms over your chest and the action only made your tits spill out of your dress more. “you don’t know anything!” you spewed.
in one swift motion you were pulled towards him and spun around so your ass was pressed against the bulge in his pants. heeseung held you flush against him, his lips at the shell of your ear. you let out a small whimper and he chuckled. “i know that all this was purposeful,” heeseung started. “like this dress you wore… you’re practically begging me to fuck you.”
his hand slid down to your lower stomach, pressing down onto it so you felt just how hard he was through the material of your dress. you breathed heavily as you fought the thoughts of his hand sliding down farther, of him touching you where you really needed him. you were dripping at the idea and your pussy throbbed.
“i bet if i move my hand down further…” his hand trailed downwards, just barely hovering at the bottom of your dress, “…we could both see how wet you really are. so needy… are you even wearing anything underneath?”
instead of checking for himself, he trailed his hand back up your body and cupped your tit. you swallowed the whine that tried to escape your mouth and heeseung’s rich laugh filled your ears. “i know that you know i don’t like being jealous,” he spoke as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
your eyes met his through the mirror in front of you and you looked at how pathetic you looked. your chest rose and fell heavily and if weren’t for the way the two of you were standing your thighs would be squeezed together too. heeseung was barely doing anything to you and you were already falling apart. you didn’t even have to say anything for him to know that he was right.
with one hand, heeseung took hold of your chin so your gaze stayed focused on the two of you in the mirror. he made you watch as he trailed his hand down your stomach, his touch lighting up your body and making you breathe harder. he leaned towards the shell of your ear, a smirk on his lips. in a low voice, he said, “you know i don’t like people playing with what’s mine.”
heeseung grabbed the bottom hem of your dress and yanked it up to reveal the tiny thong you wore underneath. he then yanked down the straps of the dress so your tits sprang free of it. finally, his hand cupped your heat, the tips of his fingers grazing along your clothed clit and making you jerk as he pressed his hard-on further into your ass.
he hummed as he lightly rubbed his fingers against the soaked fabric, his eyes still on yours. “what was that about me not knowing anything?” he asked smugly as his free hand squeezed one of your tits.
you couldn’t help the way your hips grinded against his hand and your eyes fluttered closed at the sudden pleasure. “what did you expect me to do?” you asked. your words lacked the punch you intended them to have and instead came out breathless and a bit defeated. “a whole year together and then you leave out of nowhere. now i see you all over some girl days after you left me like i didn’t matter to you. who does that?”
heeseung’s pulled his hand away so he could instead slip it under the thong you were wearing, his fingers spreading your arousal through your folds. you gasped softly, your back arching and your ass pressing more into him. “why lead me on for that long if you didn’t want me?” you continued through a small moan.
“when did i say i didn’t want you?” heeseung retorted. “that you didn’t matter to me?” slowly, he pushed his fingers into you and you moaned louder, grateful that the loud music on the other side of the door drowned it out.
your eyes fluttered open, your mind barely able to form a coherent thought as he started to finger you. you watched as his hand moved underneath your thong and barely covered his actions. you met his gaze through the mirror once more. it was embarrassing that you were so wet that you could hear the sounds his fingers made as he sped up his pace over the muffled music. the loud moans that left your mouth were even more embarrassing.
“why leave then?” you managed to ask him.
“i like the hunt,” heeseung said as if it was the simplest thing in the world. his long fingers reached deeper into you and pressed against your sweet spot, making you gasp loudly. your wetness dripped down your thighs and your moans got louder as you tried to move away from him. heeseung’s hand moved to just below your neck as he kept you against him—a warning.
all you could manage was shallow breaths as his fingers rammed into you. you stood up on your tip-toes as your knees began to wobble. you were so close to the edge that you mind was clouded and you could barely remember the words he said, only the hurt that followed after. that was, until heeseung spoke again, his eyes boring into yours. “and you were starting to bore me.”
tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, both from pain and pleasure. you came undone on his fingers, covering them in a creamy white that left lewd sounds in its wake as heeseung’s hand continued to move. you brows knitted together as the tears fell down your cheeks. “b-bullshit,” you moaned out.
heeseung might’ve known you like the back of his hand but you knew him like the back of yours. he was lying. if he meant what he said then he wouldn’t be in this bathroom with you, his hand covered in your release and his fingers inside of you knowing exactly what to do. he wouldn’t even let his jealousy get to him—or even be jealous at all.
“you're lying.”
heeseung pulled his fingers out of you and pushed you against the sink. he moved the two of you closer to the mirror so that you were almost face to face in a way. saying nothing, he stared intently into your eyes through your reflection before leaning down and turning your chin so you faced him.
now that you were actually face to face, your breath hitched in your throat. his lips hovered just over yours, barely an inch apart. “i didn’t know how to express how i felt…” heeseung said, “so i didn’t say anything at all. i left.”
he closed the distance between the two of you in a rough and sloppy kiss. distantly, you heard the zipper of his pants and the sound of denim. he yanked the thong you were wearing to the side, just enough for him to have easy access to your already messy pussy.
you gripped tightly onto the marble counter of the sink as heeseung pushed his thick cock inside you, stretching you more than his fingers ever could. you moaned against his lips. you missed the feeling of him inside you, of how full you felt as his long cock went deeper and deeper. heeseung didn’t waste any more time as he roughly thrusted into you, pushing your body further into the sink and towards the mirror.
“and you already told me you loved me.” heeseung pulled his lips off of yours and grabbed your chin. he faced you towards the mirror, the two do you almost cheek to cheek as he made you watch him fuck into you roughly at a fast pace. you felt your previous release drip down your thighs and your tits bounced at the vigorous pace. heeseung looked at you through the mirror, “…you deserve better.”
heeseung moved away from you and grabbed your hips with his hands. you watched as his hips rutted into yours and skin loudly slapped against skin repeatedly. you could barely think, much less move with the way he was fucking you. it was as if all of that anger and jealousy from earlier flooded through him, only this time more towards himself, and he was taking it all out on your needy and waiting pussy.
you were a moaning mess, mouth agape and drool almost spilling from the corners as heeseung fucked you stupid. you fought to process his words, realizing too late that he was telling you all of this with his cock inside you to distract you.
he was hoping that if he left you ruined enough that you wouldn’t think twice about his words, that you would instead focus on your trembling legs and white knuckles as your hands cramped from how hard you gripped the edge of the marble counter. it almost worked in his favor.
“i w-want you,” you stated, head lolling to the side before falling down to the counter completely. “f-fuck!” you whimpered, your voice muffled. you were so close to cumming again and you didn’t know how much more you could take.
“look at me,” you heard heeseung say and when you didn’t immediately obey he roughly pulled your head up by your hair and then towards him so your back was against his chest. you whined in protest that was quickly smothered by another one of your moans as his fingers suddenly dipped down to circle your clit.
heeseung was breathing heavily and he grunted at the way you were clenching down around him. shallow moans left your lips as he thrusted into you and it wasn’t long before you were cumming again. it dripped down your thighs and left you a sticky mess. more of your release dripped down heeseung’s cock and left a white ring at the base. if it weren’t for heeseung pressing you against him you would’ve fell to the tile below.
“can’t t-take anymore!” you cried with furrowed brows as you met his gaze in the mirror. the bathroom was filled with the sounds of your skin slapped against his and the wet sounds of your messy cunt. “t-too much!”
your body shook and heeseung just shushed you. “the things i touch, i ruin.” he placed a soft kiss onto your jaw, completely contrasting his other movements. “just look at you,” he stated.
he released his hold on you and you tumbled back down to the counter. heeseung groaned as he gave you a particularly harsh thrust. tears streamed down your face from the overstimulation, ruining the makeup you spent so long on, but a part of you also didn’t want him to stop any time soon.
his warm cum filled you up impossibly more, spilling out of you and mixing with your own cum down your thighs. you forgot how messy heeseung likes you to be once he’s finished with you. ruined, like he said.
heeseung stayed deep inside you and you managed to lift your head to look at him through the mirror. his hand wrapped lightly against your throat for a moment before sliding up your neck and lifting your head higher. he gave you an almost satisfied smile. “i love how messy you are when i’m done with you,” he said as he pulled out of you and his cum went rushing down your thighs. “and always so fucking needy for more too… like you can’t ever get enough no matter how much i give you.”
shifting away slightly, he leaned down and spread apart your asscheeks so he could get a better look at his work. “i-i like being ruined by you,” you sniffled as you breathed heavily, words coming out almost strained. “i like that no matter how undone i become, there’s still more threads you can pull. pull them.”
heeseung’s eyes flicked to yours. “it’s not worth it. you’ll only get hurt in the end.”
you turned towards him, “you won’t hurt me.” you wiped the tears and streaked mascara from your cheeks with the back of your hand. heeseung was closer than you thought he was as he leaned over you. he leaned back and pushed you down to your knees.
he looked down at you through hooded lids. “you deserve better,” he reiterated. you grabbed his hard cock and licked a stripe up it before sucking lightly at his mushroom tip. he moaned, his hands coming to rest at the back of your head.
“that’s what you think,” you replied. “doesn’t mean it’s true.”
heeseung sighed deeply. he then pushed your head fully down his length, causing you to gag around him. you looked up at him with teary eyes and spit spilling from the corner of your mouth. “you talk too fucking much,” heeseung said.
you then smiled, fisting his cock and watching as his eyes fluttered shut. “then make me shut up,” you responded. an amused smile lifted heeseung’s lips and his eyes opened to look at you.
he gave you no time to say anything else before his cock was down your throat again. heeseung grabbed a fistful of your hair. “suck,” he demanded instead, and you obeyed.
Tumblr media
∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡
🏷️﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @jakeswifez @ghstzzn @jenn-ieverse @rapmonie2047 @aaa-sia @won4me @skaterhoon @usnve @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @xylatox @lovzwoni @minaateez @onlyhyunjin @lilyuwon @aduh0308 @chaconadine @who-tf-soddhi @americanojake @missychief1404 @in-somnias-world @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @riribelle
© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
rafeyscurtainbangs · 8 days ago
Text
𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔾𝕚𝕗𝕥 𝔼𝕩𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖
𝙾𝚗𝚕𝚢𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: virgin!reader (<- very sweet and doesn't fetishize it), onlyfans!rafe, swearing, dirty talk, kissing, unprotected p in v, praise, cum tasting, fingering, first time, solo male on camera handjob, panty sniffing/tasting, mask-kink, reader gives rafe suggestive polaroids
All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! This was not a kinkmas ask, but I made it one 😋 The premise is the reader has always had a crush on her neighbor rafe but was too shy to make a move. When his package gets dropped off at her door by mistake, she decides to make her move and learns a little more about the hot man next door.
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Reader’s POV:
The sun pours through the window onto the floor as you hum with the song on the radio. You kick up some dust with your broom, sweeping the floor, but your mind drifts to him… again. Rafe Cameron. Your little crush had gone on for weeks, and you’ve no more than said ‘hi’ to the man.
He’s divine: handsome, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with messy bed-tousled hair and the perfect five o’clock shadow. His eyes… the most perfect shade of blue. He had no problem keeping eye contact where yours faltered. His swagger is undeniable, and his confidence oozes. This fact’s even more evident in your run-ins in the hallway.
He’s untouchable… Completely out of your league, or so you not so lovingly told yourself. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances when you could: catching him in the morning as he went out for his jog, running into him on the elevator in his sleek suit on his way home from the office.
Knock. Knock.
You walk over to the door, open it, and see a little pile of packages left behind. You pick them up off the floor, cutting each one open individually, your heart skipping when you visit the final one. It’s a festive UPS box, red and green for the holidays, but the name strikes you the most.
Masked Cam… The address wasn’t yours, it was his. As you slide on your shoes, your pulse quickens, deciding what to do next. Knock on the door and leave it? Knock on the door and stay? This is my chance.
You grab the box and smooth your hair, taking a breath before lifting your fist and knocking on the door. His heavy feet move on the other side, making your heart beat a little faster as the steps get closer and closer.
“Hey,” he greets you casually, smiling that perfect smile that sends chills down your spine. “What’s up?” He asks playfully as his lips curl into a perfect smile.
“Uh… Umm,” you swallow the lump in your throat, fluttering your lashes at the beautiful man before you, realizing you had never been quite this close. His rich cologne fills your nose, clouding your mind further.
“Sweetheart?” He asks, trying to pull you back down to earth, but the name only sends you into a tailspin.
“I-I… This. Shit,” you giggle, and he laughs lightly with you, leaning into his doorframe, making it worse; the man looking like every book boyfriend fantasy you ever had.
“Was this left at your door?” He asks gently, taking the words out of your mouth and the trembling box out of your hands.
“Yes,” you break your silence. “It was left at my place.”
“Well, thank you…” He draws out the word, hoping for a name to fill in the blank.
“Y/n l/n,” you say softly.
He repeats your name, making butterflies swirl in your stomach. “I don’t think I ever caught your name… I’m Rafe, by the way; again, sorry if I introduced myself already,” he says warmly. He introduced himself a while back, so you can’t fault him for not remembering since you didn’t return the gesture yourself. “Well, this was really sweet of you, y/n…” He smiles as he looks down at the box for the first time. His eyebrows lift slightly, and he tucks the box to his side.
“Of course… Well, I won’t keep you.”
He perks up, giving you a little nod and a smile that leaves you feeling weak in the knees. “Have a good night, y/n.”
”You too,” you manage before retreating down the hall, turning the corner as your excitement bubbles in your chest.
Your fingers tremble as you press the key in your lock, pushing into your empty apartment again. You let out a little squeal of delight, proud that you got more than a simple ‘hi’ out, even though the beginning was rough. The rest was perfect…
You flop down on your bed, replaying the moment in your mind. Burying your face in your pillow with embarrassment at first, swooning the next. Masked Cam… He’d looked at the name on the front of the package, and something shifted briefly—only for a moment— but you caught it.
Grabbing your phone, you pull up your browser and type in the name, your curiosity getting the better of you. Shit. Your hand slams over your mouth.
OnlyFans; Masked Cam @maskedcamxxx
You click on the page, jaw-dropping at the banner alone. You recognize Rafe's body from his morning runs in the summer; the man’s always jogging shirtless with the same gold chain on his chest. You can’t see his face, mostly covered in a black ski mask; all that’s visible are his piercing blue eyes and pillowy pink lips but it’s him…
Your heart races as you click into his page, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. Heat pools in your cheeks as you see your handsome neighbor in nothing but a mask and sweats with a catalog of pictures and videos.
Without thinking, you subscribe to the channel under a fake name one minute and devour his content the next. You watch all the free videos first, just him in a pair of grey sweats and his signature black mask rubbing himself over his clothes. His arm and abs muscles flex with each stroke—the camera picking up every moan and groan that falls from his lips.
After you went through his library, you returned to his main page, debating what to do next. Your credit card burned a hole in your pocket; the blurry images only teased what you could see if you just entered those sixteen little numbers.
His socials… Does he have a TikTok page?
You follow the handle to TikTok, pulling up his page, eyes widening as you catch the red glowing ring around his pfp with LIVE underneath. Clicking into the Live, your stomach flips as you see him shirtless, with his mask covering his face, leaning into the camera to answer questions from the chat.
His head tilts slightly, lips curling into a smile. “Welcome, @firstnamelastname,” he greets you warmly, getting the notification that you have entered the conversation. The blood drains from your face. You quickly log out of TikTok, burying yourself in your pillows.
The next day, you grab your coffee and keys and head out fast for work, already running five minutes late. You had fallen asleep shortly after the TikTok mishap, apparently foregoing your alarm in the process. You stumble slightly, tugging on one shoe and then the next.
You open the door, and your heart leaps in your chest as you almost walk right into the vase of flowers on your welcome mat. Your heart swells as you lean down, pick it up, and quickly search for a note, a larger part of you assuming it was a mistake again.
It was nice meeting you yesterday @firstnamelastname
Adrenaline courses through your veins, the already hectic morning getting even crazier as your mind starts to race. There’s no way he couldn’t put two and two together. I dropped off the package with his OnlyFans name, I went on his OnlyFans account, I got his TikTok handle, I went into his Live, he remembered my name from our conversation, and recognized my TikTok handle. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You set down the flowers on the counter, feeling your anxiety and excitement peak. He knows that I exist and that I know the man under the mask… Oh my god.
Later that night, you pushed out into the hallway again, just like you had the other day, this time with a little wrapped gift in your hands. You set it down on his doormat, rechecking the message.
I thought you might like a change of color @firstnamelastname
Lifting your fist, you knock on the door, quickly retreating down the hall and disappearing behind your door as you draw a deep breath.
It was done… You saw him walk to his apartment on his way home from work, and unless he was taking a shower or something, he had the gift in his hands.
You tried not to think about it as you sat at the kitchen table, eating dinner. The entire last two days had been such a turn of events. And none of that would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out of your comfort zone and taken a risk.
Looking up from your plate, you see the bouquet in the middle. Your mind flooded with thoughts of Rafe and what it would be like the next time you saw him.
You clean up your dishes and walk toward your bedroom, anxious to see what he’s up to and if he’s going Live again. To your excitement, he is. Your cheeks burn from your smile as you see him lounged back on the couch, just like he was the night before, his black ski mask exchanged for something red.
The description of his Live is titled "New Mask—New Content." Check it out, Princess. You read and reread it… That’s an invitation, and you took it.
The next morning you’re late again, but this time, it’s intentional. You let yourself sleep in after your long night… It was intoxicating seeing him that way. He was wearing the mask you bought, taking videos he knew you would watch. It felt so intimate… Even if everyone else saw it, it felt like he was making it for you.
You step into the hallway, smiling as you see another gift—a white apparel box with a blood-red bow. You lean down, grab it off the floor, and walk back into your apartment, feeling giddy.
Plucking out the little card on top, you pop it open and see the little message inside.
For you, princess. @maskedcamxx
You think back to the caption of the TikTok Live where he used that pet name. There is no doubt that he knows you know about his OnlyFans… You undo the bow and pull back the lid, heart hammering in your chest as you see the gift. Your eyes widen as you pull out the red lingerie.
That night, you got all dressed up, trembling with your Polaroid camera as you snap a few photos of yourself. Your heart flutters as you see the images—explicit, but nothing close to what Rafe posted regularly.
You can’t wait until the following day, craving his attention again. After watching a few of his videos, you take the lingerie off and get into your satin pajamas.
You saunter to his place a little slower, half-hoping he would catch you at the door.
That moment of confidence fades fast as you knock, resting the gift on the ground before moving back to your apartment. It was your boldest gift yet: four pictures and your sweet perfume sprayed all over a pair of the worn panties he bought you.
Yours for now, xoxo @firstnamelastname. Maybe I can get them back some day?
Later that night, you lay on your bed, pulling up OnlyFans, holding your breath as you waited to see if he left little crumbs for you. You bite your lip as you see the title of the newest upload…
Unboxing gifts from my girl.
My girl? Me? You click into the video, watching him sit back in the chair.
Rafe undoes the bow, pulling back the lid. Even though his face was mostly hidden, you could see how he smiled, and his eyes lit up when he saw what was inside.
“Goddamn,” he hums as he pulls out the Polaroids, deliberate movements, hiding the images from the camera—for his eyes only. He looks at each one, studying them carefully, reacting to each. Rafe lifts out the panties, eyes widening and rolling back as he looks at the mess. He draws the lace to his nose, inhaling your scent before tossing his head back.
Adrenaline courses through your veins as he lifts the card last, looking at your little message before looking at the camera. “Yeah, baby… You’re gettin’ these back when I’m done with ‘em.”
Rafe stands up from the couch, making you release a desperate moan as he tugs his sweatpants off his body before crashing back down on the seat again.
His cock slaps against his hard stomach, standing straight, his tip red and glistening with precum. He wraps his ringed hand around his dick, spreading his pre-release down his shaft with a deep groan.
Rafe starts to move his hand along his length, spitting on his cock for lube before taking your picture between his fingers. Rafe strokes a little quicker, his blue eyes falling slightly as his biceps strain from the effort.
“Fuck, princess,” he moans as he sets the picture down, reaching for your panties, taking them to his nose as he fists his dick.
Your eyes flutter as he surprises you completely, taking the lingerie in his mouth, sucking and biting down as he looks at the next picture. He moans around the lace, fighting to keep his eyes open.
His gold chain glints as his breathing quickens. His cock throbs as he lets go, wrapping the lace around the base of his cock, hissing at the contact before starting up again.
Rafe mumbles words of praise as he throws his head to the ceiling, jerking his dick with your panties wrapped snugly around him. With a deep moan, his fat tip spurts ropes of white, staining his abs, hand, and throbbing dick. His sticky cum rolls down his length, catching the lace.
He draws a deep, satisfied breath, dragging the panties off his cock, cleaning himself off with the lingerie before rolling his head back again as the video cuts to black.
Knock. Knock.
Your head snaps toward the door, and your body trembles as you step off the bed fast. You scramble toward the entry, excited for your next gift.
“Hi,” you gasp as you open the door, seeing Rafe standing before you with his mask off. His broad shoulders fill the frame of the door as his chest heaves.
The moment Rafe’s lips meet yours, the tension breaks, the little back-and-forth game the two of you had been playing for a few days comes to climax.
He kisses you hungrily like he has been thinking about this for a while, taking your breath away. His lips are soft, and his body language is commanding as he holds your cheeks. He leads you back into your apartment before slamming your door behind him.
Your body moves instinctively, tongue rolling with his as your body pulls him closer. You gasp against his lips as he lifts you into his strong arms, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck, deepening the kiss even more.
You can feel your body trembling with excitement and inexperience, just praying that he doesn’t feel it himself. He groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your body, going straight to your core.
”Let me take care of you,” he mumbles between hungry kisses.
”Rafe, I—I…” You sigh before he sucks off your bottom lip. “I don’t know what I’m doing…”
He backs you against the wall, pushing his body into yours. His hard bulge presses against your sex, spurring a sound from your lips you’ve never heard before, even when you touched yourself. “You don’t need to know anything, alright? I got you.” You cup his cheeks in your hands, rubbing your thumbs against the stubble as he rolls his body into you. “Let me show you,” he mumbles, his voice thick and sweet like honey.
“Okay,” you whisper, giving him a gentle smile before pushing your lips against his again. He brushes a strap of your cami off your shoulders, then the next, tugging it off your body, the delicate material falling around your feet, leaving you feeling fully exposed.
“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he assure you as he takes off his shirt as well, making you feel a little more comfortable. Your fingers trace down his body, skimming over his cut abs, watching them flex as you pass over them nice and slow.
Rafe lays you down on your bed, rolling himself into you, crushing you under his weight. He pulls away from your lips, leaving you panting, pressing gentle kisses on your neck as his big hands roam your body.
His rough hand trails lower, making you smile against his lips in anticipation. He chuckles warmly, feeding off your excitement as his fingers slip under the hem of your silk pajama shorts.
"You’re gonna feel so good, princess," he murmurs, the warmth of his voice fanning across your neck, moving lower and lower. “You sure this is okay?” He whispers against your chest.
“Yes… Please,” you answer sweetly, reaching for a breath the next second as his big hand cups your pussy, his lips wrapping around your nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue.
Your breathing intensifies… You’ve always thought he was gorgeous, but seeing him like this is almost too much to bear. Rafe kisses lower, moving down your stomach as he pushes your panties to the side, circling his fingers on your clit before running them through your soaked slit, moan after moan pouring from your pretty lips.
“You like that, sweetheart?" He asks, but he already knows the answer as he watches you throw your head into the pillow, back arching off the mattress.
”Yes, fuck. Rafe, I love it,” you mewl as he swirls the pads of his fingers on your clit.
“Gonna get you ready for me. Okay?” He asks, his voice hoarse and hungry.
You nod quickly, biting your lip as you feel those same fingers shift lower; Rafe pushing two into your tight cunt, making you gasp and cry.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans as he crawls toward your lips, kissing you tenderly as he curls his digits inside you. He moves slowly, picking up the pace just like he did when he was stroking his cock. His thumb presses against your clit, making heat rise in your belly.
“Rafe,” you whimper, having memorized the feeling, not cumming around anyone’s fingers but your own, but you knew your body was about to give way.
“Cum for me, princess,” he whispers against your lips as your body tightens around him again, cumming around Rafe’s thick digits as your thighs shake.
Rafe looks down at you, lips parted. He breathes laboriously with you as he continues to work you with fingers until your body eases around him. You grab his wrist with a panting breath, pouting your lips with overstimulation, every fiber of your being wanting more.
Rafe lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, his eyes locked on yours until they fall to your lips, claiming you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, making you sigh blissfully as his taste melts with yours.
“I’m ready,” you whisper.
“Yeah?” He asks sweetly as he reaches down, tugging down his sweats. “You want my cock, princess.”
Your heart races as you hear his filthy words. Your mind screams ‘yes’ before your lips can catch up. “I need your cock, Rafe,” you answer breathily.
He wraps his hand around your wrist, guiding you to wrap your fingers around his thick length. You feel him warm and hard in your hands, his blood pumping with a steady beat. You move your hand higher and higher, wondering how you’ll fit it all inside, feeling your nerves rise slightly. The tips of your fingers move across his swollen head, feeling a tinge of sticky wetness. You bring it to your lips, sucking just like he did, making him release a lusty chuckle.
“Fuck, baby. You’re a natural, he praises, his lips moving closer with each word until he’s kissing you again.
You gasp into your kiss as his velvety tip toys with your slickness. Rafe teases your entrance, pushing in slightly making you both fuss. “You got this, princess. You ready… It’s gonna hurt for a second, but it’s gonna feel so fuckin’ good after that, I swear,” he hums.
Your hands wrap around his hips, nails digging into his ass, pulling him into you. Rafe pushes in slowly, inch by inch, his mouth falling open as your pussy clamps around him. Your sensitivity peaked, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock.
“You want me to keep going?” He asks.
You look down at the space that connects you as he pulls back slightly, his hard dick glistening with your arousal, noticing he’s only about halfway in. “Don’t stop,” you whisper.
Rafe smiles in reply, his muscles tightening as he holds himself up, sliding himself the rest of the way in, battling himself from throwing his hips like he’d like to. He fights against his primal urges, focusing only on you as the tears of discomfort glassing in your eyes turn into tears of pure pleasure.
“Not that bad, huh?” He asks as he leans down, kissing your tear-stained cheek before rubbing it away.
“No,” you whimper and giggle breathlessly. “Keep going,” you smile as you pull him back to your lips.
Rafe moves slowly at first, picking up the pace; using the sounds of your pleasure to guide his strokes.
“Wanna see you, baby. Is that okay?” He mumbles, and you nod in reply. Rafe pulls back, rising on his knees, holding your hips in his big hands.
He fucks into you harder, the new angle making that same sensation pool in your belly. “You look so good taking my dick, baby. Shit,” he praises as he reaches over, grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips only to stuff it underneath.
You cry out his name as he hits the perfect angle. You grab two fistfuls of sheets, breasts bouncing with each thrust of his toned hips.
“Feels so good,” you pant, throwing your eyes low again, watching the tip of his cock bulge ever so slightly in your tummy. Rafe also sees it, resting his big hand to feel it for himself. “Pussy’s so good… M’Not gonna last. Fuck—I need you to cum for me, just like you did before.”
Rafe pulls the pillow out from underneath you, lips crashing against yours, fingers finding your clit brushing quickly.
He moans against your lips as you feel his hip stutter, a warmth filling your tight cunt as he cums hard, the sensations pushing you over the edge. Rafe pumps his hips into you, muscles tight, not stopping until you are fully satisfied, collapsing on top of you when you sink into your pillow.
Rafe buries himself in your neck, breathing in your scent as he holds you tight.
“How was that, princess?” He mumbles as he kisses gently to your soft, sweet lips.”
”Perfect.”
Tumblr media
tags: @rafesthroatbaby @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @littlelamy @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @cl4uus
737 notes · View notes
lynxgriffin · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Jokes
1 | 2 | 3
Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost
Toriel stops by Sans' shop for some goods, and for some more cheery distractions! Unfortunately, all this time later, it's still too difficult to escape reminders of what's been done.
It was fun finally getting to do some stuff with Sans in this universe! The last part for this trio of scenes will be up sometime next week!
Alt text for these pages is under the read more:
Page 1 Panel 1: Interior shot of a small store, with displays of goods, loose plywood, sacks of things. Two circular woven hangings bracket the door through which Toriel enters, a heavyset woman in a polka-dotted dress with a basket over her arm. Sans watches her enter, though we see only the back of his head. 
Panel 2: Toriel enters the shop and we see more displays, mostly food. There are large potted trees as well, and the shop’s counter, draped in patterned cloth and decorated with candles. Toriel: “Well, hello again. I was wondering if you had-” Sans, a jovial, bearded man dressed in loose robes and always smiling, waves a hand and cuts her off. “Hold on, you hear that?”
Panel 3: “...Hear what?” Toriel asks, nonplussed. Up close, her face is soft but distressed.
Panel 4: Sans leans over his slightly messy counter, still grinning. “I HERB that you needed some more cinnamon cloves, and look what I have here!” He offers a handful of herbs. Up close, the cuffs on his robe sleeves are patterned with little bones.  
Panel 5: “Just what I needed! How did you guess?” Toriel exclaims, reaching out with a real smile to accept the herbs. She and Sans are framed by other mysterious shop wares- jars of things, open sacks, rolled-up mats. Things you might find in an open-air desert market. 
Page 2 Panel 1: Sans: “Was just thinking it’d been awhile since I saw you making the neighborhood rounds with some of those pies of yours… Figured you were planning to start this month’s soon!” Sans gestures up at Toriel in explanation. 
Panel 2: Toriel smirks, setting down a handful of coins.  “And perhaps hoping that I would stop by your place first with them?” Sans: “I pride myself on my forward thinking, y’know.” His grin is conspiratorial as he leans towards her and he taps his temple with one finger. 
Panel 3: Toriel, eyes sad despite her smile: “All right. How about this: Tell me a good joke, and you have my word you will have the first and freshest one.”
Panel 4: Sans: “Just a good joke?” He raises an eyebrow. 
Panel 5: Toriel clutches her chest- we don’t see her eyes. “I find myself in desperate need of levity these days.” 
Panel 6: Sans waves his hand as if to keep her from feeling like she need say more, scratching his chin in thought with the other.  “Sure, I got one…” 
Page 3 Panel 1: Sans, with the smug grin of someone about to tell a terrible pun: “Why was the empire soldier happy to get demoted to horse groomer?” Toriel, with her hand on her chin in thought: “I do not know, why?” 
Panel 2: Sans shrugs widely like the answer is obvious. “Because he finally had STABLE employment!” 
Panel 3: Toriel laughs in genuine delight, although maybe a little harder than expected. 
Panel 4: Toriel: “Thank you, I needed that.” She smiles a relieved little smile. Sans: “No problem. So hey, aside from the pie… Can I maybe get an invite to those little get-togethers I see some folks around here doing once a month?” He steeples his fingertips together. 
Panel 5: San’s dialogue continues: “I’m so curious as to what goes on then!” We only see Toriel, though, shocked and dismayed. She’s thinking of the Ritual gatherings- townspeople gathered in their robes and animal masks- reindeer, fish, but most centrally, the goat masks she and Asgore wear. 
Panel 6: Toriel: “Unless you are completely enraptured by tedious talk of planting schedules and building repairs, I believe I can sate your curiosity by saying you would find them quite boring.” She waves a hand in front of her, dismissing the thought- her expression is once again drawn and weary. 
Page 4 Panel 1: Toriel turns to leave, waving goodbye. “You should look forward to your well-earned pie more!” 
Panel 2: Sans gives her a slightly skeptical look. “Alright.” is all he says. 
Panel 3: As she leaves, Toriel looks down and sees for the first time a small statue set by the door, surrounded by candles- it’s not a merchandise display, more like an altar. The statue is a horned figure holding a bowl filled with greenery- an offering of some type. The figure is rounded like a sitting child, and simple, with closed eyes and little other detail. 
Panel 4: Toriel’s dialogue over a close up shot of the figure: “What an interesting little figure you have. It does not look like it is for sale, is it?” The little horned one has three toes and four fingers on its stubby little arms and legs, and a detail on its forehead that could be a suggestion of hair, or it could be a symbol. The pillar candles surrounding it have been burned enough to have long wax drips pooled around them. 
Panel 5: Sans: “Nah, that’s just a holdover from my home country. Supposed to help keep demons out of your space.” He seems uninterested in this bit of lore, but Toriel, still facing away, is wide-eyed and shaken.
Panel 6: Toriel whirls back to him, sweating. “I-Is that so?” 
Panel 7: Sans’s expression intensifies, eyebrows dropping dramatically. “Sure thing. You know what happens when demons get in your grain stores?” 
Page 5 Panel 1: “They’re OATsolutely RYE-ined!” Sans holds his hands wide, like he’s waiting for the rimshot effect. It’s almost like his shop counter and back wall are suddenly a stage. 
Panel 2: Toriel hides a giggle behind her hand, relieved. 
Panel 3: “Is that something you have had to deal with previously?” she asks, stepping a little closer in her interest. Sans makes a slight gesture of dismissal. “Nah, I don’t really go in for that sort of stuff, honestly.”
Panel 4: Sans: “My brother, though… He’s all in on charms and wards and that sort of thing.” He gestures up, as if to point to wherever it is in the town that his brother might be now. 
Panel 5: “Keeping customs from your home country, I suppose?” Toriel asks, drawn again into the shop and closer to Sans. “Something like that,” he responds, leaning forward on his counter. On the wall next to him, there’s another woven wall hanging like the ones over the door.  Toriel: “Do you have any customs that have a reverse effect?” 
Panel 6: Sans looks as skeptical as one can while constantly grinning. “You mean like, if you want demons in your house?” 
Page 6 Panel 1: Toriel puts a hand up in denial. “N-No, that would obviously be undesirable! I meant more… just out of curiosity about your home.” 
Panel 2: Sans stares up at her, for a beat of silence. 
Panel 3: “Maybe? Again, this stuff isn’t my thing.” He leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head, nonchalant as can be. “And anyways, we left our country for a reason. Old customs aren’t relevant in this town, y’know?” 
Panel 4: Toriel once again turns to go, with a rueful smile. “Maybe not… but I cannot imagine letting go of your entire history.”
Panel 5: Sans shrugs and looks away. “There’s worse things to let go of, honestly.” 
Panel 6: Toriel, gritting her teeth, thinks of a happier time tucking Kris into bed. 
Panel 7: Close on Toriel’s expression, now more haggard and pained than it was when she came in. She clutches her chest tight. 
1K notes · View notes
777heavengirl · 4 months ago
Text
spill your guts
sirius black x reader one-shot ! warnings: miscommunication? (apparently, that’s all ik how to write), friends to lovers, mentions of injury, no war AU! word count: 6,730 masterlist a/n: sorry I've been MIA uni is BEATING my ass and i rewrote this like 35 times, enjoy!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with my quidditch bat” Sirius's clammy skin and the breeze that flew in from the window you had slightly cracked open when he awoke hyperventilating, caused goosebumps to crawl up his skin. You stayed quiet at his confession, your eyes trained on his face but his burned holes into your baby blue duvet. “And all he does is scream and cry for help-“
He took a sharp breath, this was one of those rare times when everything rotting inside him tried spilling out. For many years it was just James and Remus, Peter occasionally, but now he found that he couldn’t help but want to spill his guts to you. You stayed quiet as he spoke, scared to say anything that would cause him to shut himself in again.
”And maybe halfway through, I realized that it has more to do with me killing him than it ever did protecting myself.” Sirius never spoke of his father. His mother usually plagued his nightmares and it was the abuse he was more inclined to share.
Not his father's.
”He was really pushing his luck-“ His dry laugh, seemed cruel, but you could see how his fingers fidgeted, playing with a small thread on the edge of his boxers. The need to light a cigarette flashed in his mind. 
You knew the man was dead. You were with Sirius and the rest of the marauders the day he was buried. After everyone else had left the funeral, the brothers stared at the coffin on the altar of the mausoleum the rest of their family rested in. Regulus didn’t speak a word but gripped Sirius’s arm with white-hot knuckles. Sirius put his cigarette out on the shiny, polished wood, one last act of defiance. His brother nodded, almost as if in approval, but not quite, and apparated away with their family house elf soon after. Sirius linked his arm with yours. You didn’t ask how he died, nor did you ask about the brothers' relationship now that both of their abusers were dead and buried. Now that everything between them rotted away.
You never wanted to push the boundary more than he’d let you. Your relationship, if that’s what you could call it, was already precarious as it was.
Tonight had started like many others, Sirius knocking at your door. The flat you shared with Dorcas in front of the one he shared with Peter and Remus. And you answered, you always did.
“you look good tonight-“ You thought the way too small sleeping shorts were the reason he said so, it wasn’t the mismatched socks or the oversized muggle band tee you had stolen from their dorm fifth year. Definitely not the messy, bed-ridden hair. He had only seen your face, the glint in your eyes, and the pull of your smile. That had been enough for him to decide you were the most beautiful creature on the planet. “can I sleep in your bed?” You said yes.
You always said yes.
You didn’t have sex. But you slept together, his fingertips digging into the supple skin of your waist as he slept with his face buried in your neck. You often played with his hair, tracing spirals on his back until he snored softly. You wouldn’t have guessed that tonight would end up with him waking up, in a cold sweat and gasping for breaths, much less confessing his dreams of murdering his already deceased father.
You didn't hold that against him.
You took a hesitant hold of his trembling fingers, he seemed to welcome the touch as he intertwined his fingers with yours.
He pulled you close to him again after he laid back down. The window remained open with the nippy night breeze flowing in, but his skin eventually lost its goosebumps and his grip ultimately loosened, he was soft and warm and moldable now. He melted onto your side and you couldn't help but stare. At his perfect nose and perfect lips, the weight of the world that he held on his shoulders faded away when he slept, even if just for a few hours. 
You reveled in the fact that it was your bed he felt this comfortable in.
You hoped it was only yours.
-
Even the mornings where he had crawled out of your bed and your flat, the ones where you awoke alone and cold, he stayed in your head. He had imprinted himself on your mind, he had made it his home. Sirius Black, the man you were not dating, but the man you shared your bed with, occasionally made breakfast with in between fits of laughter. The man who had declared very loudly, and very drunkenly, that you'd make the perfect girlfriend at a party four months ago, and yet continued to ignore any hint that there might be something else between the two of you. Your bed felt cold the rare nights he didn't knock at your door, at this point your entire apartment called for his presence. Dorcas joked that he was your third roommate.
You always wondered if he had found some muggle girl to woo for the night, sleep in her foreign bed, and disappear in the morning. You wondered if he ever stayed 'til the morning in their beds, if he enjoyed them more than he enjoyed you. If your bed and your embrace weren't enough.
Until there was a knock at your door, the clock marked 1:27 am.
"A long time ago, my great-great-great-great-grandfather took something that did not belong to him," You wondered if this would also become ritual, him baring his heart naked. Baring his family's sins, his sins, to you. As if your divine acceptance would tip the scales, and that it would weigh his heart as pure. Your skin was the one riddled with goosebumps this time, as the cold that seeped through the window nipped at the thin material of your shirt and you duvet stayed discarded at the foot of the bed. You didn't mind it. He blew the smoke of his cig out the open window and turned to look at you again, unapologetically staring into your eyes. "And that is why I kind of look the way I do, 'm part Veela," you wondered if his confessions were a new level of intimacy you had gained access to. 
"As if I couldn't tell," he gave you a crooked smirk, the type he gives you when he's about to make some obscene, dirty joke. He didn't this time though. You visibly saw his shoulders relax when you made a quick quip, ignoring the heavy atrocity of his ancestors. It wasn't him after all, why would you hold it against him? He hummed, reveling secretly in your compliment. Maybe you genuinely did think he was beautiful. Regardless of the tattoos that now littered his body, or the scars of abuse that would never leave him, or even the random bruises that sometimes stained his porcelain skin, from his bike, from Moony's transformations, from everything. Maybe you even saw past the commitment issues, and unspoken words, or the fact that he left you to wake up to an empty bed often.
Maybe, somehow, you were able to look past all of that. All of him.
Sirius knew it was wishful thinking.
-
“Don’t look at me like that Moony,” Sirius said with a groan as he stood at the door, still holding the handle from closing it. Remus glared at him from the top of his cup as he sipped his tea, Sirius really wanted to skip the whole lecture, you woke up early meaning he also had to, and had to make the treacherous journey across the hall. He glanced at the clock on the wall, it glanced 6:30 am back at him. Why was Remus even awake?
“you’re a prat Padfoot-“
”I needed some sleep, it's not like we're-“
“It doesn’t matter, what you’re doing to that poor girl is horrible, if you really can’t sleep drink some tea, go to a physician” Remus turned his back to Sirius, angrily cleaning his cup in the sink, although he couldn’t see him, Sirius knew Remus’s face was twisted into one of disappointment and anger. “you know she loves you, and you use it instead of telling her there will never be anything between you-“
”I love her”
”You’re not in love with her, are you?” He turned the water off, turning around with a glare as Sirius stayed quiet. “She is.”
Sirius didn’t know what he felt for you if he was honest. He loved you, though. He had always loved you. From the days you ran around with the four of them around Hogwarts, when you passed notes in class, when you accompanied him on secret trips to the kitchens, when you helped clean his wounds at Potter Manor the summer he ran away. Sirius has always loved you.
Remus might think that’s worse.
”Stop sleeping with her and having breakfast with her the morning after, Merlin-“ he took a deep breath, his fingers coming up to rub his temples in frustration and the Welsh accent seeped into his words, “What the hell are you thinking Sirius?”
Remus knew he was being tough, but he felt bad. He felt bad about the way your eyes always trailed after the boy, and how you always stared at Sirius’s closed bedroom door when you were over for tea. You needed to be able to move on with your life. It didn’t help you and Dorcas lived right in front of them.
”Alright Moony,” 
“You’ll leave her alone?” Sirius refused to meet the taller boy's eyes.
”I’ll try”
Sirius did not listen to Remus. 
He never did really, but he felt guilty now. He stared at you from your bed, you paced around stripping away the day, being a healer at St Mungo's was an arduous job most days. Some it was just kids with dragon pox and their mothers who came with worry stitched in their souls, doing rounds with residents that had been there longer than you, the older ladies always gave you candy. You didn't know where they were getting it from. Most nights you dragged yourself into your apartment late enough you might as well say it’s morning, and dropped, ruined and exhausted, on your bed. The worst days, it was back-to-back shifts of trying to heal curses, creature attacks, and mysterious maladies that left you drained and hopeless. Ones that made you fear the magical world that surrounded you. These nights you would've sought Sirius out, the way he did you, but you didn't need to. He was always there, somehow knowing and waiting outside your door. Sometimes, he was just exiting his apartment, going to knock on yours when you came up the stairs, other nights, like this one, he waited for you. He sat on the floor with his back against your door and his eyes closed until he heard your footsteps. He stood and greeted you silently with a kiss to your temple.
He trailed after you, into your room and onto your bed. So he sat, his back against the wall and the bottom parts of his legs hanging from the bed. He didn't say much, he observed as you sighed and sniffed, wiping your eyes as you muttered to yourself. He watched in awe as you took off the green healer robes they made you wear, your buttoned shirt coming off with it. 
“I don’t understand how hard it is to keep your kid away from places like those, the kid was barely five and now he has all these welts-“ you huffed in frustration as you stripped off your pants and walked into the bathroom, the door open so you could continue to ramble “how does a five-year-old get cursed? I had to call the Ministry-“
Sirius didn’t think he could deny the fact that he reveled in these moments, he couldn't hide it for the life of him. The ones where you were so comfortable with him, walking around in your mismatched underwear angrily rambling about negligent mothers and how now you have to testify at the Ministry next week. It was laced with domesticity and a cloying sweetness that covered his skin. He wanted to stop you and kiss you silly. To sleep with you, in all your naked glory, and not care because you’d be together. He shook away the need to keep you for himself. He shuffled close to the edge of the bed, his feet finally touching the floor and he picked up a trinket on your nightstand. He bought it for you when he visited France last summer. He promised Regulus he'd gone to see him a few days. It went well, he realized. He also thought of the fact he didn't tell you that's what he went to do.
”Sirius?"
"Hm?" he finally focused back on your words, his eyes flickering back to you and the small smile that formed on your lips when you saw what he had in his hand. 
"I said, what'd you reckon will happen to the kid?" your smile faded, and you picked nervously at your cuticles as you thought about him. Would they take him away? Would he be put in an orphanage? It was protocol you had no other choice but to call... and yet you couldn't stop thinking about it. You started moving around your room again, like a bee collecting pollen from flowers. Bees were cute, right? Sirius hoped you wouldn't think he was silly, Bees were cute, he decided. You grabbed a couple of items of clothing, collecting them in one arm as the other one massaged your scalp. 
"I dunno," he remembered to answer now, "I had never thought about it,"
He could hear you turn on the shower, but you padded back into the room as the water warmed. You looked at him, still in your underwear, the eye bags underneath your eyes were visible, your makeup long faded by now. 
"You never went because of your mum?" He shook his head, and you shuffled closer, the side of your leg pressed against the bed and your knee knocking with his as you looked down at him. Your hand went to caress his hair instinctively, his soft glossy curls sliding through your fingers easily. "I'm sorry no one noticed Sirius," this part was a whisper now, you feared overstepping a boundary you weren't aware of. He smiled at you, his hand coming up to pinch your naked side. 
You yelped and batted his hand away with a laugh. 
"She's good and dead now, I reckon it doesn't matter anymore-" He gave you a saddened smile, his nimble fingers grabbing a hold of your hand pulling you closer to him again. It was private moments like this, that confused you. The intimacy of it all, the way his lips pressed against the back of your hand and looked at you through half-lidded eyes. You were suddenly hyper-aware of how naked you actually were. You had been friends for the majority of your life, shame was long gone, but when you were so close you could feel his breath across the stretch of your tummy, it felt different.
"I reckon it does matter," You pressed a small kiss to his forehead and unpeeled yourself from him, "don't bury it all inside you, Mr Black"
You floated away now, in the sea of your anxiety over your actions, closing the bathroom door behind you. 
Sirius had a lot of destructive behaviors, he knew that. The smoking since he was fifteen, the reckless way he rode his motorcycle around, the growing collection of tattoos on his body, the tumultuous relationship he had with his brother, Merlin definitely the excessiveness in which he drank, not to mention the way he showed up at the Potter's every once in a while seeking James's comfort and unconditional love, ignoring the fact that the man was a father and had a million things on his shoulders. Lily didn’t seem to mind. At least he was a decent godfather, took care of Harry to perfection, it took a few tries but he got it. Loved him with his entire heart. But you, Sirius, thought you might be the worst of it.
The worst thing he’s ever done to himself is allow for this domesticity between you.
You came back from your shower with your hair slightly damp and smelling of your signature body wash scent, sweet and enveloping. The oversized shirt that covered your torso was almost long enough to cover 'til your upper thighs. It made Sirius’s lips curl into a lopsided smile that he tried to repress.
He was lying down now, starfishing on your bed as he stared at the ceiling.
”Are you coming to bed?” The clock blinked 3 AM at you, and Sirius reached his hand out. You walked closer to him, a small smile playing on your lips. You sent the towel you had been using back to its spot with a swish of your hand. Basic handless magic was a difficult skill to gain but Merlin so gratifying. 
“I forgot my pants silly,” he shook his head no, and reached for your hand with a bit more effort, grabbing a hold of it and pulling you down with him.
”Let’s just sleep, you don’t need those-“ He covered the two of you with your heavy duvet as you laughed, he leaned over you to turn off the lamp on your nightstand.
Yes, Sirius thought as he buried his face in the crook of your neck and threw one of his arms over your torso. You were the worst thing he had ever done to himself. He would never be able to let go, your hands stroking his hair until one of you fell asleep, the small ‘night that slipped past your lips just as your eyes fluttered shut. He'd never get enough of your saccharine scent that enveloped him like a blanket, comforting and warm. All-encompassing and suffocating, in each other’s arms every night, in the comfort of your room. 
Sirius knew it deep in his heart, what he had been afraid of for so long. Maybe Remus had it all wrong, maybe he was in love with you.
Because what else could this feeling be?
-
You tried to ignore the ache in your heart when you woke up to an empty bed. You tried to forget the fact that you’d probably do it all again tonight, and the next night too, all to bear the fruit of nothing. 
Dorcas shook her head and she pushed a cup of coffee towards you. 
“Don’t look at me like that Dorcas -“
”I love Sirius as much as the next guy but-“ you picked up the coffee and sighed at its warmth “He’s being a prat honey-“
”It's not like we’ve been having sex, he just needs some sleep” You shook your head and looked away, afraid that your eyes would betray you, “hell I needed sleep too”
”It doesn’t matter, Y/N you’re a healer get him a stock of sleeping draught and yourself some too while you’re at it…” She furrowed her brows but you stayed quiet, not daring to meet her gaze “I know you love him, but I’m not so sure he sees you that way-“
” I’m not in love with him”
“I didn’t say you were in love,” Dorcas sighed now, placing her cup on the sink and walking towards the small chimney in your flat. “Promise me it won’t happen anymore, that you’ll try to break it off”
”I’ll try Dorcas,” she didn’t believe you much, you didn’t believe yourself either, the Floo Flames engulfed her body.
It was hard to, separate yourself from him that is. Sirius Black was addicting, simply from the way he moved. Just watching him is entrancing on its own. Speaking to him, with his suave words and low tone. Everything about him, everyone craved to have a simple conversation, have even an ounce of his attention. Sleeping in his arms though, heart to heart? Now that was in a league of its own. 
-
You dragged yourself into your building, the day bearing down on you. You half hoped that Sirius would be waiting outside your door again, sitting waiting for you to lay in his arms. Disappointment added to the sack of bricks you felt like you were carrying when you turned to see the empty hallway. You sluggishly made your way up to your door, hoping to see Sirius's head pop out of his apartment door. Giggles came down your hall, as you fiddled with your keychain trying to find your key. The drunken whispers got louder and just as you grabbed a hold of your key you heard your name echo softly down the hall.
You dropped your keys in surprise as you took in the sight. Sirius stood rather close to a short woman, her bubbling laughter and her roaming hands didn't stop when he let his arm drop from her shoulders. All color drained from his face and his drunk, loose smile fell quickly from his lips. The girl that clung to him like gum to a shoe hadn’t noticed your presence nor how Sirius seemed to sober up at the sight of you.
You scrambled to pick up your keys as the blonde started whispering in his ear, starting to pull at him again. He called out your name one more time, moving towards you now, dragging the poor girl down the hallway with him.
“have a good night Sirius-“ 
You miraculously managed to get your key in the hole swiftly, turn it, open, and lock yourself inside just in time. Pressing your back against the door, your heart felt like it might leap out of your chest. You had always hoped that he wasn’t seeing other people, or meeting anyone else. And the absence of encounters just like this one had solidified that thought, you were properly convinced. Now though. You had just been lucky enough to not encounter them. You thought back, it was impossible not to feel like Sirius’s look had been one of guilt. Like he got caught. But the two of you weren’t anything.
You were painfully reminded of that fact tonight.
You hadn't noticed how fast or how hard your heart was beating. You felt like it was ready to break through your ribs, leaving you shattered and with a void in your chest. But it didn't do such a thing. No, you stayed perfectly intact, even as you felt the panic batter your chest and the notion that you were definitely not the only woman in his life torturing your heart.
"What's wrong?" Dorcas said in a whisper as she looked up, her large glasses sliding down her nose. The yellow lamps that decorated your apartment gave Dorcas's dark skin a low golden tone, like the type you'd see in paintings of candlelights and sultry lounges. Marlene was over today, her short, bleached blonde strands fanning over her face as she slept with her head on Dorcas's lap, her arms wrapped around the girl's waist.  If it had been any other time you would've run for the muggle Polaroid camera Lily bought you, flashing a picture of the two of them.
"Sirius was just outside with some girl," Dorcas gasped now and shot up, dropping Marlene's head on the couch. The blonde groaned awake and asked what was wrong.
"Sirius brought home a girl" The blonde shot up as well and the girlfriends ran to the door, trying to look through the peephole. "Well this whole thing has gone arse over tit hasn't it?" Marlene pushed Dorcas off for her turn at the peephole. 
"There's no 'thing' between us anyway"
"Well, shit" The blonde outside kept pawing at Sirius, trying to reach his face, to eat it Marlene guessed. He stared at the door, trying to hold the girl who stuck to him back. Marlene felt as if she was in a staring competition. She knew Sirius couldn’t see her but she still liked the thought that she’d win.
Dorcas was the first to peel herself off of the door and pull you into a tight embrace. Her hand rubbed circles on your back and Marlene followed, embracing the two of you. They smelled coconut-y and sweet, even the remainder of Marlene's stronger perfume wafted over you ever so slightly. It was grounding, really, to be hugged tightly by your closest friends, the smell of home, the comfort of knowing that you were loved, even if it wasn't by him.
"I'll hex him for you if you want" Marlene's suggestion, although serious, wasn't necessary. You shook your head sighing. 
"He didn't do anything-" Dorcas flicked your head now, a frown forming on her face as the three of you parted. 
"Like hell, he didn't-"
"He doesn't owe me anything 'Cas don't be harsh"
"He's been sleeping in your bed for the better part of six months I reckon he owes you a lot" Dorcas gave you a look of pity now, like you were a wounded abandoned animal.
"I say we set his motorbike on fire," Marlene suggested casually like she was talking about the weather. You slowly peeled your layers off, as you dragged your feet towards your room. You knew the girls felt bad for you, but it was your fault. Who in their right mind would let Sirius Black so into their hearts, knowing that no commitment would ever come from it? 
You. 
You would. 
From his muscles softened under your touch, his warmth spreading to your body, to the way he mumbled in his sleep. It was something your soul craved to see, to feel, to hear. He had bewitched you, without you wanting him to, without meaning to allow him. You threw yourself on your bed, starfished and in your underwear, freshly showered. The water did not wash away the regret nor the hurt. They only made you think of coming back to Sirius in your bed, smiling and pulling you into his arms. Your sheets were cold, and tucked in neatly, very unlike the cozy mess Sirius usually made of it. So you stared, long and hard at the white of your ceiling. You prayed sleep would take you, you were exhausted. Like your body had been beaten, like your heart had split in two. 
No such sleep would overtake you. Instead, you could hear frantic knocks on your front door, your muscles twitched but you didn't dare move, like if you breathed he'd know. You heard Dorcas rip the door open, the force of it reverberating through your small flat. 
"You got some balls coming here," It was muffled, but you could still hear the venom in her voice. She didn't let him speak. "You're going to die cold, sad, and alone Black— don't you ever forget it" She threw the door closed now, the bang shaking your room again. It was jarring to hear that, especially from someone as sweet as Dorcas was, and she meant it. Hell, you felt like she would make sure of it, no matter the cost. 
"Sweetheart-" Dorcas spoke through the door, her knuckles grazing the wood but not quite knocking. You didn't answer.
A muffled she must be asleep, and you felt like you could breathe again. You knew Sirius wouldn't end up alone. If he did romantically, the friendships in his life would fulfill that void anyway. He had a family. Most of your friends were his, and you knew, that you could never ask any of them to walk around the uncomfortable wall that seemed to form between you, or god forbid pick sides. It was stupid, you knew there was no reason you should be upset. You were not together. You weren't anything to him, and he wasn't supposed to be to you.
But oh he was. He was everything.
-
On nights like these, you thought you might reach your limit and have to be admitted into the psychiatric ward of St Mungo's yourself. You felt sweaty, and the stuffy healer robes didn't help to ease the heat that crawled up your skin. Your hair felt frizzy and out of place, and your buttoned-up shirt felt like it was choking you, but you couldn't stop. You couldn't afford to nor could the patients that kept coming in. The St Mungo's emergency room was nothing short of a battleground, it was vile and the worst turn to get. Especially during the overnight shift. These were the types of shifts that made you second guess your career choice, the ones that made you want to throw in the towel and drag yourself back into your apartment and never come out. 
"Y/N come on, they're bringing in a flying vehicle accident-" you frowned as you let your turn partner drag you towards one of the newly entered patients. For the first time that shift, you felt dread crawl up your throat, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Sirius lying unconscious on the bed. For a second you thought you had forgotten how to breathe, your fingertips felt numb and your ears rang. His perfect nose was bloody, his perfect lip bruised and split. There were scrapes on his cheeks, and his jeans had been ripped and stained red. It wasn't noticeable at first, but the metallic smell and the caked-on blood on his black jacket became visible as you approached, it all made it clear, it had been bad.
You couldn't understand what your partner was telling you, the ringing in your ears too loud for you to make out the words, but as they moved Sirius onto a proper bed, it all came crashing down again. Repeated prayers of no's rang through your head along with pleas to a higher power to let this be a nightmare, one you'd wake up from cold and sweaty but knowing he's safe. No such relief came, and your fingertips buzzed with electricity once again, moving so fast it was like you moved at two times speed. You couldn't think of anything but prayers, to what? You didn't know, but you did so nevertheless. To the stars, and the heavens, or the magic that ran through your blood, through his. You didn't know. But you muttered words of hope and love, as you cleaned his wounds, hoping he'd hear you.
You busied yourself and basically assigned yourself to his care, after they moved him out of the ER, into one of the beds in the rows of other patients divided by sheets. You barely left his side, just to shower and change into the spare clothes Dorcas had brought you reluctantly, mildly upset you were taking care of Sirius. You ate next to him, talked to him, read your favorite poems, and hummed his favorite songs. He mumbled here and there, and his eyes would flutter sometimes which you took as a good sign but the tension didn't leave your shoulders, and your prayers never ended.
James, Remus, and Peter passed by, dropping some baked goods off and comforting you with teary hugs. 
"I told him that bloody bike would kill him-" Remus said as he shook his head and sat next to Sirius for a bit, his hand on the boy's knee.
"How's he doing doc?" you rolled your eyes, amusement played in James's eyes at the pull of your lips. He had always secretly been a worrywart, but he played it off well as if his heart didn't almost beat out of his chest when he got the call.
"As long as he wakes up he'll be fine-" He smiled genuinely now, "Few broken bones," He hummed, looking at Remus and Peter huddled next to Sirius's bed.
"few broken bones hm? wouldn't be the first time." You talked for a while, each one of you ignoring the nagging feeling of worry. Sirius's boisterous laugh was poignantly missing from the conversation. But soon enough, James's father's duties called and he pressed a kiss on Sirius's forehead and one on yours very fatherlike and apparated away, Remus and Peter gathered themselves up as well not long after.
"Call if anything, okay doll?" Remus pulled you into a tight hug, his lips pressing against your temple as well. Peter gave you a small hug, his eyes trailing over Sirius's form sadly. 
You were left alone again, the window panes that surrounded the hall letting some moonlight in. Time felt like a thick jelly, your eyes staring at the clock as you ran your hands through his hair, the exhaustion was quickly catching up to you. But the thought of another coffee made your stomach churn and your eyelids felt heavy like lead. So you gripped his hand tightly and laid your head against his arm.
If he woke up, you'd be there.
-
Sirius felt like he might be in heaven, the second his eyes fluttered open you were there. Your face pressed between his forearm and the bed, your hand tightly clutching his. He could feel the ghost of your lips on his skin and goosebumps threatened to crawl up his spine, his thoughts straying to your pout. Your closed eyes and your steady breathing made it clear you were sleeping, Sirius couldn't help but smile. He very rarely got to watch you like this, by some miracle he always fell asleep first and woke up second. You were so lovely, with your soft skin and the angelic glow from the light of the moon glaring against the curve of your face. If it wasn't for the stinging in his face or the way his ribs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, Sirius would've sworn up and down he had died and gone to heaven.
He squeezed your hand, and the weight of the realization that you had been taking care of him fell on him. Guilt clawed at his throat, he had broken your heart and you still took care of him. He'll never forget the look on your face, the surprise, and the tears that threatened to fall. There was no other word to use besides heartbreak, and it had been his fault. He didn't know why he had brought her home, he didn't particularly fancy the girl, but the alcohol made his veins feel warm and she smiled at him and the impulsiveness and self-destruction within himself were a shoot-first ask-questions later duo that ruled his brain. He realized that you deserved more. More than him, more than the empty bed he left you with, or the avoidance of feelings. Sometimes Sirius wished you'd forget him. It would be better for you.
To forget his face, forget his name.
Your eyes began to pry open, and he couldn't help but spill his guts again. 
"For so long I hoped I'd fall asleep at the wheel and crash my motorbike on the ride home-" Your heart jumped to your throat, your head shooting up at the realization he was awake. His words were raspy and as much as he tried they were barely a whisper. "But then you came back from your apprenticeship, and moved right in front and it felt like-" he looked away now, his fingers fidgeting with yours. "Like you were that light at the end of the tunnel." Your hand was still pressed against his. 
"I stopped wanting to fall asleep on the bike, I just wanted to fall asleep with you"
"You are an idiot Sirius Black" The frustration gathered over the last two days flushed your system, tears threatening to fall over "you are so reckless and so utterly stupid-" tears flowed down your cheeks but you wouldn't let them fall, furiously wiping them away with your sleeve. He looked at you heartbroken. 
"I know love"
"No," you shook your head now and stood up, his hand falling back to the bed "You don't know, all I do is worry and care, and you don't!" your laugh came out crueler than you meant but it came out nonetheless "You never care Sirius- Oh and imagine when I don't see or hear from you for days, and suddenly you're dragged in here looking like you're seconds away from dying-" you paced around as you went on, your hands running through your hair in frustration.
"I didn't think you wanted to see me" he stared at you now, hoping to catch your gaze. Hoping to see if you meant it, hoping to see, something. Something that would tell him what he so desperately wanted to know. 
"I always want to see you" You locked eyes with his, his stupidly gorgeous stormy eyes. And he knew, from the pain in your eyes, from the way your pupils blew the second you looked at him, from the way you softened, anger dissipated when you looked at him. You didn't understand how anyone could look like that, how even scratched up he looked like he had been carved out of marble. "All I want is to see you," you were close enough for him to reach for your hand, even with pain shooting down his ribs, he did.
"I'm sorry,” you sat on the edge of his bed, closer than you had intended, as he spoke, looking at your intertwined hands. “and I’m sorry about the lass too-“
You scrunched up your nose, “I reckon that is none of my business” and he wondered how long you had to tell yourself that until you believed it.
”I sent her home, nothing happened-“
“you can go out with whoever you wish”
”I only want you” 
You looked at him again, into his eyes, into his soul. Hoping to catch a flicker of truth. His eyes looked at you with hope and want, and you knew. Sirius would never lie to you, he might be a drunk, and emotionally unavailable, and Merlin knows that he’s a mess, but Sirius Black was not a liar, especially to you. He squeezed your hands, pulling them close to his chest, pressing them against his heart.
”I’m so in love with you, you drive me mad,” he said this last part with a laugh, pulling a teary giggle out of you. You couldn’t help yourself, the wetness of your eyes and cheeks coming without you meaning it to. He swiped a thumb under your eyes, a nervous laugh threatening to spill from his lips, a watery smile forming instead.
“I am regrettably, in love with you as well” You smiled now, looking away from his scoff. His lips curled into a full-fledged smile now, as did yours.
“Am I that awful?”
”I fear so Mr Black,“ you glanced at him teasingly, the glint in your eye he loved so much returning. 
“I reckon you wouldn’t want to kiss a tosser like me then,” You couldn’t help but smile, as the both of you subconsciously leaned closer. His hands cupped your cheeks as your foreheads pressed together. “Can I—“
You didn’t let him finish, finally closing the distance between you. He kissed you shyly, a trait you didn’t know he possessed. You kiss him soft and open-mouthed, a small hum coming from his chest. His fingers hold on to your face, desperate to keep you close, and and you revel in the fact that his kiss turns hungry like he’d never get to kiss you again. 
You part with a small satisfied sigh, foreheads pressed against one another and eyes fluttered shut. Sirius thought about the many times he wondered what this would feel like, to press his lips against yours. He had dreamt of this for months; when you walked around your room in your underwear ranting or every time you opened the door, he dreamt of kissing you in the mornings and late at night.
Sirius realized, as he pressed another kiss to your lips, he had dreamt of kissing you for years.
783 notes · View notes
virq-qgo · 5 months ago
Note
logan catching us staring when his shirt is off around the apartment
Hey so, I accidentally almost turned this into the smut lol.. enjoy bae!!
Warnings: almost smut, dirty talking, my writing, not proof read because I don’t want to remind myself of what i write. Female bodied
Requests are still open!
Yeah it was a hot day, yeah any man would walk around shirtless with a pair of pants on, hell maybe their underwear.
But nothing could’ve prepared you when Logan walks in from the front door. Your eyes quite literally popped out of your skull. There he was, torn blue jean pants. His shirt missing, thankfully.. sweat dripping down his ripped chest.
God, the way his face looked when he came in too. More like his hair, how it was typically styled into a neat cat ear look. But right now, it was so messy looking. And as the girl you are, you found it so hot.
“Take a picture it’ll last longer.”
His voice breaks you from your trance, realizing that your ass just got caught gawking. “What are you talking about..” you say hoping that maybe you could try to play it off.
“Your staring is very obvious.” Logan crosses his beefy arms and looks at you like you’re some stupid horny mutt.
“Me? Staring?” You roll your eyes and scoff “as if, there’s nothing to stare at besides your greasy tits. Large greasy tits.”
“Fuck.” You thought, your ass definitely just got busted. You were just a girl, right? No better than a man when it comes to big tits. You couldn’t help yourself but to stare, Logan’s body was just the best to stare at. Honestly, if you were into freaky shit. You’d definitely be riding his abs.
Logan was the same way though, every time you showed abit of breast and some ass. You’d catch him practically drooling at the sight of you. His hands would always find their way on your body, squeezing whatever he pleased.
You suddenly felt so small when you see his dark eyes on you. You felt like you were some type of thanksgiving meal. “You’re such a horny fuck.” He growls.
“Can you really blame me? I mean look at you, any woman would want to see a strong beefy man oiled up. With his fucking blue jeans torn and dirty like that? What were you doing? You hum “getting your ass fucked?”
Logan rolls his eyes while slowly walking up to you. For some reason, it was like straight from a movie. He was walking towards you, his rough callused hands squeezing your plush hips as he guides you to the couch gently but there was a hint of aggression.
‘You need to hush those lips before I put them to use.”
You didn’t even get a word in because you were to busy watching him take off his belt, closely watching his fingers and seeing just how well they can work. (Spoiler alert: they do, way too good.) Watching him pull down his zipper then letting his pants drop to his ankles. Revealing just how turned on he had been.
“Now bubs, I’ll give you an option. I can either flip you over right now and stuff my cock into that tight little pussy of yours right now, or..” before he could say anything else he flipped you over, pressing your chest to the couch while pulling your hips up. The t-shirt you were wearing slid showing your bare pretty pussy.
You felt yourself clench around nothing as you hear Logan moan as he made his discovery.
“Let’s see if you can count how many times I can make you cum tonight.”
689 notes · View notes
hopelesslygaysstuff · 2 months ago
Text
October 11 - Gags
Tumblr media
pairing: dom!Wanda x sub!Reader
summary: Wanda has had enough of you mouthing off.
content warnings: gags, fingering
word count: 1.3k+
masterlist
comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
Tumblr media
“You’re not going to do anything.”
Wanda raises her eyebrow, sitting back on the couch and crossing her arms. One leg elegantly crosses over the other, and you feel your blood run cold as she tilts her head. 
“Um,” you start, blinking as your mind goes blank. You see a small smirk form on the corner of Wanda’s lips. God, sometimes she was so fucking infuriating. 
“Do you want to repeat that, darling?”
Your mouth closes with an audible clack, and you breathe out in a frustrated huff through your nose. Crossing your arms in front of you, you attempt to look just as intimidating as the woman seated before you. It doesn’t work well, and you figure you probably look like a petulant child. 
“Come here,” Wanda commands, patting her lap. Her green eyes are hard and locked on you, one of her hands outstretched and waiting. 
“Hmm,” you say, pretending to think. “What if I say no?”
Wanda’s eyes narrow, and you feel a thrill of excitement run through you. You’re well aware that you’re playing with fire, but it’s too much fun to pass up. Wanda’s fingers curl, just once. 
“Now. I won’t repeat myself.”
You decide to listen, not wanting too harsh of a punishment tonight. Stepping forward, you gently lower yourself onto Wanda’s lap, your knees spreading on either side of her thighs. Her hands come up around your waist, fingers digging into your sides slightly as you let out a breath. 
“What has gotten into you?” Wanda asks, one of her hands trailing up your chest to grab your throat and jaw lightly. 
“I don’t know,” you say, your hands resting around her shoulders. “Maybe I just really want your attention.”
“My attention?” Wanda murmurs, leaning in until her lips are inches from your. Oh, how you want to close the gap and feel those soft lips. “Well you’ve got it now, sweetheart, but I’m not in a very good mood thanks to your brattiness this evening.”
Her voice holds a warning note, but you ignore it. Honestly, how much worse could your punishment be? You knew how much Wanda despised a bratty submissive, but you were desperate for any sort of attention she could give you. 
“Maybe I didn’t want you to be in a good mood,” you whisper, before surging forward and pressing your lips against Wanda’s. 
She allows it, her lips sliding smoothly against yours while you moan softly into her mouth. Her tongue peeks out, strong against yours as she hungrily devours your lips with her own. It’s messy and passionate and everything you’ve been wanting. 
Wanda pulls away, and your lips chase hers. 
“Ah, no,” she says, pressing a finger against your lips when you open your mouth to protest. “I think I’ve had quite enough of your mouth for tonight.”
Your brows crinkle in confusion, and you let her lower you on the couch. Wanda presses her hand on your sternum, an unspoken command to stay put. She walks toward the bedroom, her hips swaying perfectly. 
As soon as she’s out of sight, you throw your head back onto the couch cushion. Wanda never leaves the room unless she’s getting a toy or a restraint or something, and that almost always means punishment for you. 
Truly, all you’d wanted was a bit of her attention, and for her to be a bit rough with you as she got rid of her frustration from the week. You hadn’t meant to push her too far, but the thrill of her punishment sent arousal straight to your core. 
“Good job, you didn’t move,” Wanda says, her voice startling you. Raising your head, you watch her walk closer, holding something hidden behind her back. 
“I can be good when I want to,” you retort, smiling at the slight roll of Wanda’s eyes. 
She walks over to the couch, throwing a leg over your waist and straddling you. You move your hips slightly, the weight of her against your pelvis making you hot. You can feel your clit throbbing slightly, so you take a few deep breaths. 
Her arms move, her hand bringing out a ball gag from behind her back. You lick your lips, eyeing the gag as Wanda moves her fingers along the straps. Her short nails clink against the metal buckle, and you feel your heart rate pick up when she brings it closer to your face. 
“As much as I love your pretty voice,” Wanda begins, placing the ball gag in your mouth as you obediently wrap your lips and teeth around it. “I love it more when the only thing you can do is whimper and moan for me.”
Letting out a soft moan at her words, you close your eyes as Wanda buckles the strap securely behind your head. Her fingers move quickly, pulling away once the gag is secure and caressing your face. 
“There,” Wanda murmurs, a sparkle in her eyes. “Now you’ll be quiet and obedient for me, won’t you?”
You attempt to speak, your words muffled behind the gag. 
“Perfect.” Wanda smiles at you, her hands wandering further down until they reach your wrists. In one smooth movement, she brings them above your head and pins them there. “Stay.”
You take in a shuddering breath, your fingers gripping the couch arm tightly. Wanda’s hips move slightly against yours, grinding down as you stifle a whimper. Her hands thread through your hair, caressing your face and moving down your neck until the only thing you can feel is her. 
You protest with your eyes, your complaints turning into whimpers when Wanda moves to straddle your thighs and cup your core with her hand. You thrust your hips up, feeling yourself throb underneath her touch. 
“Awww,” Wanda coos, tilting her head again as she presses her hand firmly against you. A strangled moan escapes you. “So desperate already for me, aren’t you?”
Against your will, your head nods eagerly. 
Wanda chuckles, slipping her hand inside your shorts. Her fingers drag against your wetness, your clit throbbing underneath her touch. It’s too much, and a stream of moans sounds out around your gag as your hips desperately thrust up. 
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you,” Wanda says, her fingers moving quicker. 
Your orgasm grows under her touch, the fast circles around your clit sending your body into overdrive. You begin to whimper, your eyes wide and pleading as Wanda watches you intently. 
“Do you want to cum?” Wanda’s voice is full of false sympathy, a smile on her face as she works you up. “Go ahead and beg for me.”
“Mmpphhh fffmmmppph,” you say, and Wanda chuckles. 
“Oh, that was pathetic, darling.” 
Her fingers move quicker, sparks appearing behind your eyes. You close them, feeling your arousal building quickly. You begin to plead, your words muffled and jumbled behind your mask as Wanda’s other hand softly caresses your face. 
“Go on, whenever you’re ready.” 
It was like your body was waiting for permission, your back arching as your abdominal muscles clenched tightly. You feel your clit throb one last time before waves of pleasure take over your senses. The only thing you can feel is Wanda, her fingers against your clit as her other hand cups your face gently. Her vanilla scent surrounds you, your orgasm coursing through you as pleasure turns slightly painful when her fingers continue to circle your clit. 
“Fffmmph, pmmmhhhfff,” you protest, breathing a sigh of relief when Wanda slows her fingers. 
“So good for me,” Wanda murmurs, gently unbuckling your gag. Her lips find yours, moving slowly as you whine into her mouth. 
“Thank you,” you say, whispering the words into Wanda’s chest as she pulls you into a tight embrace. 
She holds you for a while, whispering words of praise into your ear and telling you that she loves it when you speak. You relax into her hold, knowing that the gag was only for the scene. Her hands are gentle, lulling you into a comforting trance as you reflect on the orgasm you were just given. It was absolutely perfect, and you’re more than happy that you’d asked to try something new.  
As much as you loved to talk, sometimes it was nice to only focus on the pleasure Wanda was bringing you. 
417 notes · View notes
theemporium · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
[3.5k] married life has perks that you hadn't ever imagined. and it came with duties you never considered to exist in a totally fake, accidental marriage with a three time world champion who was not what he seemed.
series masterlist
.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
As stupid as it sounded considering he had messaged his confirmation, you hadn’t actually expected Max to show up. At most, you expected the question for your address was just going to be him sending the McDonald’s to you with a note saying ‘just this once’.
So when someone knocked on the door a little past ten o’clock, you really weren’t expecting to find Max standing on the other side with a bright smile on his face and two bags full of groceries in his hands. 
You stood there, dumbfounded and blinking at the world champion in front of you. “You were serious.” 
His brows furrowed together slightly like you were the one being out of character. “Yeah, I was,” he said, waiting a few moments before he continued. “So, are you going to let me in or—”
“Oh, yeah!” You flashed him a shy smile as you stepped to the side, pulling the door open a little wider as he stepped into your apartment. You made a brief, noncommittal noise and muttered something about a kitchen in the direction you waved your hand, but Max walked in the right direction almost like he owned the place. 
Like he knew his way around your apartment with ease. 
The thought shouldn’t have pleased you as much as it did.
You glanced down at your attire with a frown, your cheeks burning at your chosen outfit but, in your defence, you really hadn’t expected Max—or anyone—to come over tonight. The shirt was an old one of your father’s you had stolen from his closet many years ago, the pyjama bottoms were from a Christmas set your family had got a couple of years ago and your hair was pushed back from your face in some messy hair-do that probably wasn’t the most flattering.
And definitely not the outfit you would have chosen if you knew Max was coming over. 
But you pushed down the urge to grab a hoodie or a blanket or anything else to cover yourself up, and instead made your way towards the kitchen. 
There was something oddly domestic about the sight: Max standing by the counters, emptying the contents of the bags as he murmured away to himself like he was accounting for what he actually bought. He was dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie (a Red Bull one, unsurprisingly). His hair was messy, dishevelled even, like he hadn’t bothered to put any product in it today. 
You decided you preferred it much better like that.
“Are you okay with quesadillas?” 
You blinked, looking at Max with raised brows. “You can make quesadillas?” 
Max glanced at you over his shoulder, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “You say that like it’s a hard dish to make.” 
“I still burn toast,” you admitted with a shrug. “So anything that isn’t charred is impressive to me.”
Max snorted, almost like he thought you were joking. It was embarrassing that you weren’t, and almost impressive itself that you had managed to stay alive this long by yourself after you moved out of your mother’s house.
“Yes, I can make quesadillas,”  he said, finally answering your question as he began to move through the kitchen like he belonged. “It won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes at most.” 
“I may starve to death by then,” you whined, a playful tint to your words as you pulled yourself to sit up on the empty counter space on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. “McDonald’s would have been faster. And I would have eaten by now.”
Max turned to glare at you, his eyes narrowed. “You hadn’t eaten all day. I wasn’t going to let your first proper meal be McDonald’s.”
“And you said you wanted to be husband of the year,” you murmured, returning the glare and you could see his lips twitching upwards. “Plus, I was too busy to even attempt to cook for myself!” 
“Too busy to eat?” He questioned, not quite convinced. 
“I got wrapped up in my work,” you admitted, feeling your face burn as he watched you closely. You waited for him to get the same look on his face—the one your brothers’ or your mother always gave you—that screamed ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’. But it never came. 
Much to your surprise—something Max had been doing consistently over the last few weeks—he looked intrigued, interested, fascinated. 
“What work was it?”
You told yourself it was a throwaway comment. That he was just being polite. 
“Are you trying to stall the fact you don’t actually know how to make quesadillas?” You teased, head tilted slightly to the side as Max smirked in response. 
“I can multitask,” he assured you. “I can listen and cook.”
“Max Verstappen? Being the listener instead of having people listen to him?” You let out an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Now, that is just unheard of.”
Max rolled his eyes, though you didn’t see the fond action. 
“Maybe everyone else just isn’t interesting enough to listen to,” he stated simply as he began to work, collecting the vegetables he had chosen and taking them to sink to wash. 
You watched him closely. “And I am?”
“Always,” he said, flashing you a smile over his shoulder before his focus returned to the food.
Despite his offer, you changed the conversation to something that was…well, more of a two way conversation rather than you talking about yourself and your work uninterrupted. Though, you pushed down that kernel of something warm and fuzzy and kept it hidden safe, even if his words were just a polite offer covered in sweet words. 
Around forty minutes later, you sat beside the boy on the counter as you both happily ate your quesadillas, a bright smile on your face as he began to retell some old story about him and Charles back in the karting days. Once you had both finished, you took his empty plate and waved away his offer to wash the dishes as you assured him you had a dishwasher that did the job just fine. 
Your back was turned to him as you loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher, not seeing the way his eyes drifted to some papers hidden under a pile of magazines. 
“Did you do this?”
“Do what?”
“These drawings.” 
You froze for a moment before you turned around, finding Max spreading a few sheets across the counter. Your body burned in realisation when you noted they were some of your more recent designs, the ones that didn’t fit the pretty box your professors and teachers wanted, the ones that you liked to just draw for yourself in between projects.
“Those are nothing,” you waved him off, resisting the urge to rush over and snatch them from his hands like a mad woman. “Just silly, little—”
“They are amazing,” Max interrupted, the sincerity in his voice knocking the rest of the words from your throat. “Like, insanely good.” 
You put your focus back on cleaning up, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted—almost pleasantly—at his words. You felt like you were moving in a trance as you cleaned down the counters and turned the dishwasher on before you made your way towards Max. 
His focus was still on the sketches, his eyes scanning every little detail like it was important for him to memorise it all. You don’t think anyone outside of your teachers had ever looked at your work with such…focus.
“They really are nothing,” you said to Max as you stood beside him, fingers tracing over the drawings like they were gentle strokes of a pencil. “Just some fun on the side.” 
“Charles mentioned you went to school for this. Fashion, no?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together like he tried to remember the sliver of information he learnt about you years ago.
“Fashion designing and business management,” you said, letting out a sigh. “I love it, I do. It’s just…” 
His attention focused fully on you. “Just what?” 
“Constricting, I guess,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. You turned to look at him, expecting judgement but there was nothing but understanding in his eyes. “I know in the long run these classes will help be but sometimes I just…”
“Want to do what you want?” Max finished, a small smile gracing his lips and it looked so pretty with his flushed cheeks. “I get the feeling.” 
“One too many team orders ignored?” You questioned, your voice light and teasing and you were glad when he laughed in response. 
“Something like that.” 
A few moments passed with neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t silent, it never was in Monaco. There was still plenty of noise outside: cars revving, people laughing and cheering, the distant sound of music playing from some party who knows how many streets away. It was never quiet in Monaco, but there was something comforting about the blanket of outside noise when you were in your apartment with Max. 
“Come with me.” 
He had blurted the words out so suddenly that it took you a few seconds to realise what he said, what he was asking. You blinked once, then twice and still your brain was confused. 
“Come with you where?” 
He paused before his cheeks burned a light pink colour, like he realised he hadn’t given much explanation or context before he blurted the words out. He cleared his throat, his shoulders looking a little tense as he tried again.
“Come with me to the FIA ceremony,” he said and, if you didn’t know better, you would have sworn he was nervous. Max Verstappen—three time world champion—looked nervous. “I mean, you’re my wife and…stuff.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And I want you there.”
Your lips parted in surprise, taking a few moments before the shock washed away and the questions started. “I—don’t you already have someone as your plus one?”
He looked a little embarrassed when he shook his head. “I honestly planned to go alone.” 
Your heart lurched a little at the idea. “Don’t you have to tell them in advance?” 
“I’d say a few days is enough,” he replied, a small smirk on his lips once again as realisation dawned on you.
“Oh my god.”
Max frowned a little. “What—”
“I only have a few days to find something to wear!” You hissed, your eyes widening as Max let out a loud, boisterous laugh. You slapped his arm, a wave of panic washing over you. “Max, this is serious! I have nothing!”
Max tried to fight his laughter. “It’s not that big of a deal, you don’t have to wear—”
“Yes, it is a big deal! It’s the official ceremony! I am the world champion’s date!” You said, looking at him like he had grown another head. “Oh my god, I am going to have to go shopping tomorrow.”
Max’s nose wrinkled. “Please tell me husband duties end at quesadillas and don’t extend to shopping trips.”
...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
...
“When you said to come visit you in Monaco before heading home for the holidays, this isn’t what I had in mind.”
The curtain pulled back enough for you to poke your head out and glare at the blond sitting on the purple velvet futon. However, Logan just stared back at you with an absolutely bored expression on his face.
“You said you didn’t mind what we did,” you argued back.
“That was before we knew we would be sucked into dress shopping,” Oscar muttered under his breath, his focus on his phone screen. However, Logan quickly nudged his ribs with the point of his elbow and the Aussie let out a hiss as he snapped his head up. “What? We are, like, the two worst people you could have brought with you.”
“And it’s not fair Arthur got out of it,” Logan added with a pout.
“Who else could I have asked?” You retorted, looking between both boys with an expectant look. “Plus, I want to spend some time with my best friends before Christmas.” 
“I know you are only saying best friends to butter us up but I have to say it’s working for me,” Logan admitted with a sigh, ignoring the way Oscar rolled his eyes.
“Charles likes his fashion,” Oscar supplied lamely before frowning. “But not…good fashion.”
“Understatement of the century,” you snorted before pulling the curtain shut again and surveying the pile of dresses you had dragged into the dressing room less than an hour ago. This had been your fourth shop of the day and you still hadn’t found anything to wear for the FIA ceremony. “I don’t think he would have taken so kindly to me asking him which dress he thinks Max would think I look the hottest in.”
“And we would?” Oscar grumbled.
“Is he still pissed?” Logan asked, ignoring the Aussie before you poked your head out and took even longer to get through the dresses. “I thought he was playing nice at the dinner with Pascale.”
“He did,” you confirmed with a nod, even though they couldn’t see you as you frowned at the orange dress you had just slipped on. Definitely not the right shade. “But he has also been forwarding me divorce lawyers and articles on American Marriage Laws.” 
“Yikes,” the blond muttered. “He really hates the idea of you being married to Max.”
“He is an overprotective brother, he always has been.” You sighed as you glanced at yourself before shaking your head, moving onto the next dress which was an odd shade of moss green. “I think a part of him just blames himself for not stopping everything back in Vegas, so he feels the need to fix the mess now.” 
“Do you wish someone had stopped you?” Oscar asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.
You paused, unsure how to answer. 
“It’s not like you could have stopped her, grandpa, you were in bed before the sun had even set,” Logan snorted, breaking the few seconds of silence as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 
“And where were you?” Oscar retorted. “If you were up, why did you not stop her?”
“I was busy myself.”
“Doing what?”
“None of your business, Piastri.” 
“Out making your own mistakes?” 
“Excuse you—”
“God, maybe it was a mistake to bring the two of you,” you commented as the curtain was pulled open again, and you stood in the entryway of the dressing room. You looked at them, your hands on your hips and a grin on your face. “If I had to guess, I would have said the two of you got married in Vegas with the way you bicker.” 
Oscar rolled his eyes. “As if I would marry him.”
“Uh, people would love to marry me,” Logan frowned before his attention shifted to your dress, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “Yeah no, puke green looks good on no one. Next!”
...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
...
“Holy shit.” 
With the FIA Ceremony being held in Baku, it meant that you and Max had to fly his jet out to Azerbaijan the day before. You hadn’t even thought about the logistics of the trip until after you had bought the dress and Max had sent you confirmation that Christian had managed to book an extra room at the hotel so you didn’t have to share with him. 
It was incredibly stupid for you to be so nervous about the whole event when it wasn’t even about you. Yet, Max looked the splitting image of calmness as he sat across from you in the plane, tapping away on his phone as he played some stupid game Lando had got him addicted to.
His nerves remained calm once you landed, his hand on the small of your back as he led you towards the car that was designated with taking you to the hotel. He was a gentleman all throughout dinner as he kept one arm around the back of your chair as he indulged in small talk with Christian and Checo. He even walked you to your hotel room door—though it was next door to his—and pressed a chaste kiss on your cheek and walked towards his room before you could even say anything. 
Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, was completely unfazed by the fact he was about to step in front of hundreds of cameras with his new wife.
You, however, were two steps away from shitting yourself. 
You had practically clung onto Oscar the next day, needing a sense of normalcy before you had to start getting ready. Though, in an annoyingly predictable turn of events, even Oscar wasn’t fazed by the upcoming ceremony and the award he was about to collect himself. If anything, he found your freakout to be highly entertaining before the boring trophy ceremony began. 
You had paced up and down the hotel room more times than you could count as you rushed around, desperately trying to look as put together and elegant as a last minute invite could. Your heart had been in your throat in the minutes leading up to Max knocking on the door. 
And for the first time, he didn’t look so sure of himself. 
Max stood on the other side of the door—a sight that made your heartbeat pathetically fast as the memory of him showing up the other night at your apartment came to mind—with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was dressed in a suit, his hair styled to perfection, and yet there was a flush on his cheeks as he took in your appearance. 
“Good ‘holy shit’ or bad ‘holy shit’?” You teased, though you tried to cover up your own doubt as you glanced down at the floor-length red dress you had finally picked after dragging Oscar and Logan to seven different stores around Monaco. 
“Good,” he breathed out, his eyes glazed over like he was in a trance as he took you in. “Definitely good.”
You didn’t even try to hide your grin. “You aren’t mad that it’s Ferrari red?”
“You could have chosen any colour and I’d still consider myself lucky that you’re standing next to me,” Max admitted, something sounding in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before you could ponder for too long, the boy cleared his throat and quickly offered the bouquet to you. “I know a boring awards ceremony isn’t exactly an ideal first date but….here.”
You took the bouquet with a wide smile, leaning down to smell the flowers appreciatively before stepping back into the room to place them on your bedside table. “Thank you, Max, they are beautiful.”
“So are you,” he said it so quietly that you almost swore you made it up. 
You turned back to him, mouth open and ready to say something before you paused as you took him in, blinking in surprise. 
Max frowned. “What?” 
“Is that the same suit you wore last year?” 
Max glanced down at himself before shrugging. “Yeah, and the year before that. And the year before that. And—”
You blanched. “You wear the same suit every year?” 
“I don’t see why I need to get a new one every year,” Max argued back, clearing his throat a little. 
“Max, you’re a three-time world champion. You are going to collect your third world championship,” you continued as you walked back towards where he was standing. “You should be wearing something special to commemorate the day.”
“I won the championship weeks ago though,” he said, his brows furrowed together like he didn’t understand your point. “What’s the big deal about collecting a trophy?” 
“You made history this season,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as though you were trying to size him up, trying to understand him. “You should be wearing something more special than a suit you’ve worn years in a row.” 
Max nodded like he understood what you meant but his lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Next championship, you can design my suit then.”
You blinked once. And then again. 
“You would wear something I designed?” You asked, almost wincing at how soft your voice sounded when you spoke.
“Of course I would,” he said before he offered his arm for you to take. “You have a year, so you’ll have plenty of time to work on a good suit. One appropriate for a four-time world champion.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “And you’re so sure you’ll win next season?” 
“Oh, I know it, baby,” Max grinned back at you, and something about the way he smiled made him look so young and mischievous. “Maybe you can make one of your own designs for yourself as well. We could be matching.” 
“Maybe,” you said with a smile, letting the hotel door close behind you as you tried to pretend like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest at his implication of doing this again.
...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 372,947 others
yourusername 3x world champion and great personal carrier. would 10/10 recommend this verstappen guy
view all 21,930 comments
maxverstappen1 the stairs were steep, you would have decked it
oscarpiastri you would have
yourusername i take my thank you back
user SHE WAS HIS DATE KWEBFKBEFJWEF
user omg this keeps getting better
user it's like a fanfic irl
user the tiktok povs could never
landonorris you are so-
yourusername what did i do now?
landonorris you told me you picked the papaya dress
yourusername i said that so you would shut up
landonorris your wife is bullying me maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1 good
user i can't believe this is real
user THE FACT SHE POSTED HIM WITH THE TROPHY TOO
user has anyone checked on charles?
arthur_leclerc he is currently breathing into a paper bag
user ARTHUR-
charles_leclerc i'm glad your loyalties still remain with ferrari
yourusername well it is RED bull so...
charles_leclerc i am blocking you
redbullracing our favourite wag!
charles_leclerc i am blocking you too
.
3K notes · View notes
landosjpg · 11 months ago
Text
fall back together | ln
Tumblr media
the one where your ex-boyfriend invites you to spend a few days with him, but you two still have feelings for each other.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~2.5k
warnings: pining, the tiniest bit of fluff i believe, language, smut, oral (f recieving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming
note: ehhh i don't really know how to feel about this but i wanted to post something, once again not proofread! also i have a looooong flight later this week so pls send in some requests so i can entertain myself during it! <3
Tumblr media
you and lando had dated for a little over two years when you decided to call it quits. it wasn't messy; you two had mutually decided to stay as friends. and for the few months that you had been just that, it had worked well so far.
that's why lando had decided to invite you over for the monaco grand prix, insisting that you should spend a few days prior with him so you two could catch up and spend some time together.
as friends, of course.
it took him a few days to convince you, but you finally agreed. and that's why you found yourself walking down the corridor that led to his apartment, suitcase in hand. you could hear his giggles already from the other side of the hall, the sound bringing a smile to your face.
as you opened the door with the keys that he had insisted you should keep after breaking up, for emergencies (even when you lived in a total different country), you heard him talking.
"hey, chat!" you heard him say. you should've guessed he would use his days at home to stream like he used to. "guess who's here!"
you smiled as you walked to the room he was in. the fans had always loved you; you saw the edits they made of your relationship, how everyone used to lose their minds over the way you two looked at each other when you decided to make an appearance on one of his streams.
utterly in love.
and of course, you saw how everyone couldn't believe it when he had announced the end of your relationship.
it's not like any of you had expected it either, but you knew it was for the best or the relationship would consume one of you. but you were happy you had managed to make a friendship work, not really wanting to lose lando. and of course, his fans were excited to see you again.
he turned his chair around as you entered the room, his smile widening as soon as he saw you. you walked his way, happily waving at the camera. normally, he would grab your waist and pull you into his lap.
but this time he didn't.
so you stood there, right next to his chair. and as much as you knew that was how things were, it didn't fell completely right to you.
"i think i'm gonna head to bed," you interrupted after a few minutes in which you talked with him and with the viewers, answering a few questions just like you used to do before everything went down.
but after a long flight and a taxi ride to his house, you felt exhausted and all you wanted was to lie down and call it a day.
lando reached to mute his mic before he could answer you, turning to look at your face as he spoke.
"take my bed, i'll sleep in the spare room," he said. you were certain that the fans would try to decipher what you were saying later, but you didn't really care.
you thought about what he was proposing. it would feel weird, sleeping in his bed without him, so you weren't really convinced about it. and he must had seen it in your face, because before you could say anything, he added:
"come on, y/n". you're tired and the spare bed isn't even made," he looked at you with soft, pleading eyes.
you knew he still wanted the best for you, so you sighed in defeat and accepted his offer with a nod of your head.
after saying goodbye to the chat, you left the room to get ready for bed. as you went through your daily night routine in the bathroom, you noticed how everything you had left there behore the break-up was still in its place.
it looked like you had never left.
you tried not to think too much about it, there could be multiple reasons why he had decided to keep all your stuff. he definitely had moved on, right? it had been months since you two ended things.
you brushed it off, not really wanting it to get to your head and then walked to his room. everything was just like you remembered. damn, he even kept some pictures of you on his wall.
with your pajamas on, you climbed into his bed and covered your body with the soft sheets, the smell of him quickly washing all over you.
you rolled around with a sigh, the bed feeling way too big now that he wasn't next to you to wrap hismself around you. you were unable to sleep as your mind filled with all the nights spent in that exact same mattress between laughs, kisses and endless conversations.
you missed the feeling of his arms around your waist, the sound of his snores and the warmth of his body enveloping you every night.
with your mind racing with all the memories that wouldn't leave your brain, you realized it had been hours since you got in bed when you checked the time on your phone. the house was completely silent by that moment, so you figured lando was already asleep.
you sighed and got up, wandering to the kitchen silentely to not wake him up, with the intention of making yourself a tea that would hopefully help you sleep.
୨୧
sat on the counter, you contemplated the city lights with a warm mug of tea in your hands. the only light that illuminated the kitchen was te one that came out of your room. lando's room.
you were lost in your own thoughts, so you didn't notice his figure walking towards you.
"is that seat taken?" his voice made you jump a little in surprise, swearing under your breath as you turned to look at him, simply shaking your head in response. "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he added with a chuckle, sitting on the stool right next to you.
you didn't really know what to say, so silence fell between you two while you just stared at each other. despite of it being dark, you could appreciate his messy curls, the spark on his eyes and the sly smile that beautifully decorated his lips.
"can't slep?" his voice was low and tender as he brokw the silence.
"bed feels too big."
at your answer, he just nodded. he kept quiet for a few seconds, pensive, and you could see that he was wondering wheter what he was about to say was appropriate or not.
"you know, as much as it hurts... i'm happy that you're moving on," he finally broke the silence, his words hitting you like a truck.
"i'm not... what do you mean?" you asked in confussion, but your mind was more focused on the fact that the possibility of you moving on hurt him.
"i've seen the pictures."
despite of the sadness that his whisper hid, you knew he wasn't mad at you. he had always said that he wanted you to be happy, whether it was with or without him.
silly of him to think that anyone else could ever make you as happy as he once did.
"just a friend," you mumbled, knowing that he was talking about the guy in your latest posts. but he was nothing more than a friend to you, not even close. "not really my type," you joked, earning a little smile from his lips.
once again, the silence felt deafening as he didn't give you an answer. your nerves were starting to kick in and so, in an attempt to try and make it feel less awkward between you two, you gazed back to the window.
"do you ever miss me?" he whispered again seconds later, the simple question making you freeze.
the answer was easy: yes, like crazy. but you couldn't just say that.
as he waited for you to reply, you felt his eyes on you, curious about what you would answer. and you swore he could hear your heart racing in your chest.
"sometimes, yeah," you finally decided to give him the truth.
or part of it, because confessing that it hadn't been a day in which he didn't cross your mind at least twice a day made you feel too exposed and vulnerable.
you halted when you felt his hand creeping up your legs slowly, stopping when he reached your thigh.
"i miss you, too," his murmur sent you a shiver down your spine, and he was looking up at you from where he was sitting, with puppy eyes.
you knew damn well what those words meant, and you felt your heart breaking at your own answer.
" i don't think it's a good idea, lan," you murmured, not able to hold his gaze for long.
"i know", he uttered, and you felt him sigh, but his hand stayed in your leg. "i'm sorry."
when you heard his simple apology, you closed yout eyes and tried to keep your tears from falling down your cheeks, but you failed miserably.
you knew he was apologizing for not being his best self during the last weeks of your relationship. at first, you had tried to convince yourself it only was a rough patch, but it was burning you down.
and, when you asked him for some time, he agreed. he knew he hadn't been the best boyfriend to you during that time, and he hated seeing you suffer because of him. so he ultimately decided to set you free.
"i'll never take you for granted again," he whispered, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping the tears that fell down your face.
you hadn't noticed that he had stoop up from the stool and positioned himself between your legs, but having him so close again made your heart feel warm. and you looked down, knowing that if your eyes met his green orbits you'd throw yourself back right into his arms.
"lan..."
"i swear, y/n," he interrupted you; you could see his eyes were also watery, tears threatening to come out as well, but he held them back as he kept talking. "i know i fucked up, but it won't happen again."
closing your eyes, you sighed. your fingers softly wrapped around his wrist as you kept silently crying.
"please," his whisper made you sob, wanting nothing more than to go back in time and never let go of him. "i promise."
as you took in his words, your hand slid to his neck and he rested his forehead against yours. your breaths were mixing together and you nodded your head slightly, giving him your final answer with that small gesture.
before you could think about it, his lips were on yours. soft, just as you remembered, and you could taste both your tears on his lips. he kissed you slowly, tenderly, as if he didn't want you to slip out of his fingers again.
and you knew he didn't.
"i've missed this," he sighed in between kisses, pulling you a little closer, his arms now wrapped around your waist. "i've missed you, baby."
at the sweet pet name that you never thought you'd be hearing from his lips again, you exhaled with a smile.
"want to join me in bed?" you asked in a whisper, your fingers softly brushing against the skin of his neck. you wanted nothing more than to sleep next to him again, so close that one would think you two were literally attached at the hip.
"you're inviting me to my bed?" he chuckled as his arms went lower on your body, pulling you closer and picking you up from the counter.
"our bed," you corrected him with a giggle of your own.
he planted a soft kiss on your lips and walked you back to his room, wrapped in his arms. he lied you down on the mattress gently, keeping his body over yours. your gazes locked for a few seconds before his lips attacked yours hungrily, the tenderness of the previous interactions now long gone.
your hands roamed all over each other's bodies, clothes soon flying everywhere as both your breaths got heavier.
he started trailing small, wet kisses down your breasts and torso, his hands carefully pulling your underwear down your legs. he spread your open for him and positioned himself between your thighs, looking up at you from the edge of the bed.
you slightly nodded, giving him permission to go on. a long sigh left your lips as soon as you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss on your sensitive bud, and your fingers instinctively got lost in his curls, urging him closer.
"you're so gorgeous, baby," he mumbled, his hot breath against your slick making you moan softly.
you felt his tongue flatten against you and he started licking your cunt as if he was starving. a smug expression plastered on his face when your back arched as his lips found your clit again and he sucked, fingers tugging on his hair.
"fuck, lando..." you stuttered, your legs closing around his head as you felt the knot on your lower stomach about to snap. a small groan escaped his lips, his hands gripping around your thighs, surely leaving small bruises on your smooth skin.
soon, the warmth of his tongue on your pussy felt too overwhelming and your orgasm didn't take long to wash over you, leaving you a moaning mess under his touch.
as you came down from your climax, he got rid of his boxers and hovered over you again, his lips finding yours once more. as you tasted yourself on his tongue, you hummed contently into the kiss, your fingers finding their wait to his curls again.
"you alright, love?" he gently asked, taking a minute to look into your eyes.
"need you inside of me," you panted, your legs hooking at each side of his body as you pulled him closer.
he locked his lips with yours as he teased your folds with his cock, both of you moaning into the other's mouth at the friction. he positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed inside of you, letting you adjust to his size.
"so fucking tight for me, baby," his voice sounded breathless as he started thrusting into you without a hurry.
he took it slow, his movements almost lazy but deep.
and god, did it feel good.
you held each other tightly as he kept that slow pace that you two seemed to be enjoying. he reveled in the way your sweet moans filled the room and your nails drew crescent moons on his shoulders, your face contorting in pleasure as he stretched you out deliciously.
feeling your second orgasm starting to build up, your pussy clamped down on him, drawing him even deeper inside of you; which resulted in a low grunt from his lips.
"baby, i'm gonna... fuck..." you whimpered, unable to even form a proper sentence as the pressure in your lower stomach increased again.
"look at me, love," he groaned, and you did as he had asked.
with your gazes locked in each other's, it only took the two of you a few strokes to come undone, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt him cumming inside of you and leaving you weak under his body.
he collapsed on top of you, a little winded as he left a sweet kiss on your lips before moving to lay down on the mattres, pulling you with him.
"i love you," he uttered, his arms wrapped tightly around your body as he kept his cock buried deep inside of you.
"i love you, lan," you mumbled, your face finding the spot between his jaw and his shoulder as you caught your breath, feeling yourself slowly drifting off to sleep with your nose nuzzled on his neck.
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
hiiragi7 · 4 months ago
Text
I've been seeing quite a lot of discourse lately defining transness as "identifying as a gender opposite to/different from what society expects you to be".
This is incredibly vague, and I feel misses that, for many people like me, there is not exactly a clear gender in which society expects us to be, nevermind a clear "opposite" or "different" gender which we can identify with. Many intersex people have experiences in which one person calls us a "failed male" while another calls us a "DSD female". Many of us have been assigned, reassigned, degendered, reassigned again. In this sense, for many intersex people, it would appear that no matter which gender we are we would fall under this definition of trans if we so choose it; society so often does not expect us to conform to a singular gender, rather they expect us not to exist at all. Even for many intersex people who identify as cisgender, their gender and sex are constantly brought into question and suspected of being inauthentic, an imposter of a different gender/sex "pretending" to be cisgender. In this sense, any gender we choose is "opposite" of expectations, even cisgender identities, because we are intersex.
And yet, the discourse I have been seeing lately has been attempting to sort intersex people into easily digestible and simplified boxes based on AGAB ("AFAB intersex" and "AMAB intersex") and trying to claim what kind of intersex person is allowed to call themselves transfem based on their AGAB, as though this event at birth always determines what gendered expectations are set for you and where you can transition to after.
Which of my gender assignments should I refer to as my "assigned gender"? The choice made by the medical professionals at my birth? The choices made by my parents? At which time? By which parent? And why does it matter to people so much that I have an assigned gender to refer to when it's all so messy anyway? Why must I invent convenient acronyms to describe it to you for your judgement? Why is it not enough simply to say I know my own experiences and identity best and that it's none of your business? Why are you trying to decide for me what I should call myself?
All this to say, I wish people would stop making assumptions about and policing other people's identities. I will readily admit I don't always understand an identity, and this is a good thing; it means there is an infinite variety of us and an infinite amount to learn about each other.
I wrote this post with the recent intersex transfem & afab transfem discourse in mind, but it quite honestly applies to a lot of the very exclusionary and rigid attitudes I've seen in our community lately. Once again, why are we using the actions of oppression (for example, the action of nonconsensual gender assignments; AGAB) to define our trans identities, to the point of excluding each other within our own community? How are we helping each other in doing this?
(I do have similar questions regarding the divide in language between "AFAB transfem" and simply "transfem" - Why specifically the label of "AFAB transfem" rather than just "transfem", if the argument is that AGAB does not determine gender? Personally, I would like to move away from AGAB language altogether.)
I've never had a clear gender to transition from; I only hope that in the future the community will support people like me in using whatever language we find best to describe the gender we are transitioning to.
Trans is a word open to anyone who identifies as such. That's the best part of it.
467 notes · View notes
pastryfication · 5 months ago
Note
Can you please, if you'd be so kind, do one with Oscar x driver!reader, and him proposing on media day, when they're talking in front of people? And Lando has to hype him up before. 🤭
hi!! thank you for your request!!
i can’t imagine oscar proposing in front of so many people—i think he’d be more the type to do a private, intimate proposal—so i’ve changed the request a bit. i hope you still like it!
just say yes | oscar piastri
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader
content warnings: mentions of hungary 2024… also, this is messy! i’m not even sure myself what is going on.
Tumblr media
the race hadn’t worked in your favour. starting p8 and moving down to p11 wasn’t good enough. just out of the points, in a race with so much potential, wasn’t good enough.
in the final lap, you wanted nothing more than to exit the car, throw away your helmet and hide yourself away in the hotel. but then, your race engineer turned on the radio and delivered the message you had waited to hear for so, so, so long. oscar had won the race. oscar passed the finish line in first place.
now, after such news, your eagerness to finish the race wasn’t build on the need to sulk, but instead, an eagerness to celebrate your boyfriend.
as soon as you were out of the car, you were running towards were you knew he would be. the smell of burnt tires and gasoline faded to the background and you threw yourself against him, race suite and helmet still on, and enveloped him in a hug.
you were so happy you wanted to cry. he deserves this more than anyone else and to see him achieve it was a dream come true for you. as he decented the podium, you were in the crowd and clapped louder than anyone else.
oscar had found your face in the crowd as he stood on the top step. he smiled brightly when your eyes met, and when lando initially ignored him and he felt the world slowly crashing down on his happiness, your silhouette was what he sought again.
you were there. you were always there. even when you had a shitty race yourself, even when he could see how sad you were about the position you ended up in, you still came to celebrate him. and you poured your entire heart into the celebration, pushing yourself into the crowd of papaya to be closer to his beaming face.
too caught up the the giddiness you felt, you truly hadn’t noticed anything wrong until oscar pulled you aside just before your media duties. he wasn’t smiling quite as bright as he was supposed to, considering he just had his maiden win. he explained, voice a bit strained, that he had been allowed to pass lando. he told you how the win didn’t feel completely like his own, like he didn’t quite deserve it, and you listened with a frown on your face.
this was his win. he deserved it. he earned it fair and square. and you told him exactly that. you told him while holding him close in another hug, your mouth up close to his ear so only he could hear the sweet words you whispered.
as you leaned your head on his shoulder and comfortingly rubbed his back, oscar mind began to cloud with thoughts of the ring in his trouser pocket. barely a hundred meters away, tucked safely away in his jeans in his drivers room, lay the diamond ring he so delicately had picked out with your sister.
he wanted it then, he wished so desperately to have magical powers so he could make it spawn in his hand, but he didn’t, so instead, he took your hand in his and dragged you along.
“where are we going?” you asked, but it was for deaf ears. he had a mission and he was going to accomplish it. he was going to propose right then and there. he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.
୨୧
the reporter had to fight hard to hide the smirk when he spotted the diamond on your finger. it stood in stark contrast to the dull race suit hanging from your waist, sparkling prettily against the sweaty fireproof shirt clinging desperately to your damp skin, compliment the op1 cap on your head perfectly.
“what is it i spot on your finger?” he asked, microphone pushed up against you eagerly in await of your response.
“well, what does it look like?” you answered, showing it to him with a joyful smile adorning your face.
“i guess your boyfriend wasn’t satisfied with just a win.” the reporter laughed.
“fiancé.” you corrected. “and my fiancé is quite satisfied with his amazing win. but you can never get too many things to celebrate.”
1K notes · View notes