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#rolling loud new york
onikasbarbie · 2 years
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shawnshuttlesworth · 10 months
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photos I took of Travis Scott at Rolling Loud NYC back in 2019
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fairene · 4 months
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one of your girls / ln4
part one
lando norris x fem!reader
reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n.
part two
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you are just one of his girls. a frequent regular. but something changes, and you are his favorite.
a/n ⋯ how do i explain myself...? guess i can't! this will be divided into two parts for the sake of dramatics, and truthfully i can't contain my excitement to share this with you all. reader's dresses are left to be ambiguous for your imagination, only the cut of the dress is described (perhaps a color, once, but i forget); as usual, it is always up to YOU what you are wearing;) i will be focusing on requests before the next part comes out!
inspiration ⋯ VIDEO
warnings ⋯ SMUT / 18++ minors DNI!!! language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), oral(m!receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, but not here; non monogamous (yet), insecure reader.
wc ⋯11.3k (unedited.)
your phone rang in from your bag, the vibration shocking you from your conference room in new york. you had been visiting there for your job, meeting with clients, and overall needing to schmooze the entire fucking office. you were sick of it at this point. 
and it was sunday, too. who works on a fucking sunday? you. because what’s life without the overtime pay? 
until you saw lando’s contact card lighting up your screen. you blushed, instantly, thinking of just how a week ago he had you laid out on his monaco penthouse, screaming and weeping his name while he fucked you rabidly. 
you answered, clearing your throat. 
“hello?” 
“i won! i won!” he shouted, the background noise of crowds drowning out the baritone of his voice. you raised a brow, but were quick to connect the dots. you’d been so busy with work that you’d forgotten that the race must’ve been over, you were only able to watch the beginning before you were swooped up into a meeting. 
your hand flew to cover your mouth as you stepped into your office, shutting the door. you couldn’t be loud, and tears began to welt in your eyes. “did you really?” 
“yes, yes! god, i’ve wanted this so bad…” he was absolutely full of rile and cheer. you could hear that from his voice clear as day. you were so happy for him. you wiped a stray tear that fell down your face and rolled to your chin. 
“i’m so happy for you, lan.” you breathed, laughing when your voice hitched with emotion. you knew that he caught it, letting out his own gasp at your retention. 
“you cryin’ for me?” he said your name, know damn well he had a cheeky smirk on his face. you scoffed, rolling your eyes and even he could hear the action. 
“shut up. let me be happy for you.” he laughed again, deep and rich, but relieved that you picked up the phone. it was hard for him to get your attention, though you felt vice versa. 
“let me be happy, then,” your brows raised at what he meant. “come to miami. tonight.”
you froze, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your work shirt. “lando…” you sighed. “you know i can’t…”
“please…!” he whined into the phone. 
your resilience to him was not good. clearly.
“call my boss.” you heard him yip and pop his lips. he was giddy and thrilled that you accepted his advances. it never did take much, though, did it? 
you hung up the phone before you could say anything else and settled back into your temporary station before you were back in monaco full time. the office here was more than sufficient and, you couldn’t help but thank god that you were here when lando called. the flight to miami wouldn’t be more than three hours. 
your boss knocked on the door a few minutes later with her brows raised. 
she spoke her name and you perked up. “you didn’t tell me you had family in miami,” she said, crossing her arms. but she wasn’t angry. 
“i do.” the lie was swift. but it wasn't really a lie, was it…?
“your cousin called me, said that you need to use pto hours for a wedding…” she looked at her apple watch. “which is in a few hours?” 
you gulped. “what can i say,” you shrugged, “i’m a workaholic.”
your boss shrugged, turning to leave. “take the week off, you deserve it.”
so this is what working so hard got you? damn. you practically leapt off your seat, packing away your laptop and other essentials you had brought to the office. when you were skipping down the steps of the building to the parking garage, you got a text. 
flight leaves 6
> one attachment 
it was lando. you opened the text as you were unlocking your door, realizing he sent you a boarding pass. he already filled out all your information. he wanted you there that bad, didn’t he? you wouldn’t even consider the two of you close friends rather than buddies who fuck. 
you hearted the message and raced home to pack. 
when you touched down in miami, there was a car waiting for you outside the airport. you were shocked with such lively treatment, but weren’t one to start complaining. the ride to lando’s hotel wasn’t very long, either, but it was beautiful. 
when you stepped out you were greeted by the miami breeze, refreshing from the stagnant air in your humid new york building. 
“thought you were gonna chicken out,” his voice was light and airy. you were so dazed by the grandeur of the building that you didn’t see lando standing there at the entrance. you immediately gaped at him, embarrassed that you were caught off guard. 
“on what, this? luxury? be for real!” you stifled a laugh. he held out his hand for your bag, and you gave it to him. but it was really meant for your hand. 
his other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. he peppered light kisses to your neck, but not your mouth. your relationship wasn’t intimate like that, it never was. kissing was the next step to love, you told him, and you never reached for his lips with the amount of times you’ve fucked. 
but he did. 
there was always something about your aura that allured him. it drew him in like a moth to flame, and he would happily burn if it meant being in your presence. but he wasn’t ready for a relationship, so he told himself, and neither were you…so you told yourself. 
yet you’ve explored each other’s bodies like vestigios conquerors. you knew what made him tick, he knew what made you squirm. it was a fair trade, you thought, and you had no intention of staying exclusive to him. 
but you’d make it known to him that when you were both together, there were no other girls around. no boys. it would be just the two of you in your own world, but it was on a time limit. 
your hand found the back of his neck, leaning into his lips, but you pulled back when you heard some whispering– paparazzi. 
you said nothing as you shifted past him, ripping his head from your neck. he looked confused before he glanced towards the growing crowd around the hotel entrance, some phones being whipped out to record. but he honestly didn’t give a fuck. 
but you did. the last thing you wanted was to be plastered as a whore all over your feed. you still needed your fucking job. 
“what,” he said, coming closer to you. you took a distancing step back. he came closer. you didn’t move this time. “you didn’t miss me?”
him and his fucking ego. 
but you did. 
“want me to show you?” you spun around, full of sass. he let out a light laugh, pressing his shoulders back and straightening his posture. little to your knowledge, he was rendered speechless and his dick tightened in his pants. blood flooded to his abdomen, which had him shifting on his feet. this fucking girl. 
“come on,” you cooed, nudging his arm. “i came here to celebrate, no? and you haven’t even bought me a drink yet!” you got him there. he nodded, quickling showing you up to his hotel room in miami. it was a beautiful room with a living room and a single bedroom with a king bed. 
when you were up there you got a good look, running your hands over the fabric of the couch and the untouched champagne sitting on the coffee table. “this doesn’t count,” you picked up the bottle, turning to face lando from where he stood, placing your luggage on an armchair. 
“what? not expensive enough for you?” you rolled your eyes at him, placing the bottle back down on the platter with the glasses. you made haste opening your suitcase, rummaging through the outfits you brought for the duration of your stay, and in particular, your dress. 
you pulled out the carefully folded fabric. you held it out in front of you, impressed by the lack of wrinkles, and turned to lando. 
his jaw fell agape, staring at the magnificent piece. it was a longer dress that went to your mid calf, and sparkled in the dim lights of the room. he moved closer to you, running his fingers over the fabric. you gulped in his presence. 
“shit,” he sighed out, followed by a laugh. “better put it on now.” you raised a brow at him, confused. “else we won’t make it out that fuckin’ door.” 
you stifled a giggle and ran towards the bathroom, changing quickly. 
there was a knock at the front door when you were just finishing up your look. lando answered when you peeked your head out of the archway to the bathroom. it was carlos. 
“ready yet, mate?” 
lando shrugged, moving out the way so carlos could make eye contact with you. he said your name with a cheer, brushing past lando to wrap his arms around you. he kissed both your cheeks in greeting, you returned it. lando hummed to himself, wondering what that kind of affection was like from you. guess he’d never know, huh? too intimate, the words rang in his head. 
fuck off. 
“you flew today?” carlos asked you. you nodded. 
“had to celebrate, didn’t i?” you let out a giggle, covering your stained lips when you glanced at lando who was focused elsewhere, his jaw clenching. it had your joy dying in your throat, suddenly feeling like there wasn’t any reason to smile at all. 
“of course!” carlos cheered, slapping lando on the back which had him falling back to earth. “can’t believe he finally did it.” lando’s first ever formula one win was an astronomical achievement. you wish you could’ve been there in person. 
“neither can i…” your voice trailed when you were focused on his freckled face. a constellation, you called it, and could lose yourself in counting them. and lando was looking at you and your beautiful face. he was addicted to you, he learned, and no girl could fuck him like you could. 
carlos glanced between the two of you and raised his brows. “right, then.” he cleared his throat. “let’s get going then, yeah? got the whole grid celebrating you, lando!”
you were quick to put on your heels and grab your clutch. lando waited by the door for you, holding the door open. 
when you brushed by him, he grabbed your arm and twisted you around. he pushed his head close to your chest, which had you flushing. 
“lando!” you scolded beneath your breath. 
“you smell like me,” he raised a brow. 
shit. you thought he wouldn’t notice. “grabbed your cologne on accident. was rushing…replaced it with mine, see?” you raised your wrist for him to smell and he did, nose brushing against your sensitive skin. your veins pumped just beneath a thin layer. you felt him inhale and you had shivers running up your spine. he glanced at you again, dropping your hand. 
“think mine’s better.”
he meant it. you smelling just like him had him on fucking edge. he didn’t understand why it mattered to him to such a high degree. the primal inclination soaring right over his head, but he knew you were his for the night. longer he would wish, but he would take anything he could get from you. 
you only rolled your eyes at him, proceeding to walk down the hall. he caught up with you, hand coming to your lower back to guide you. when you made it to the elevator, he stuck his head into your neck again, breath hot as it fanned against your skin. you leaned into him, but stomped your heeled foot. 
“lando…” 
he grumbled something inaudible. 
“speak, won’t you?” you gripped his chin, pulling him upward. 
“driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
your breath caught in your throat. he was always touchy, but it was never this intense. the way he grumbled against the skin of your throat, the needy vibrations which plucked deeply at the strings of your heart. but there shouldn’t be any of your heart involved.
“you’re just a madman, then.” 
he chuckled. “gonna lock me up?” 
if only, you wanted to say, but held your tongue. 
“papaya does look good on you.” you giggled, hand roaming his chest. but you were right about his madness. he was sickeningly crazy. he should be institutionalized, even, in the comfort of your home. what a hell that would be, wouldn’t it?
the drive to the club was short. it wasn’t very far from the hotel. the inside of his expensive mclaren had you dazzled, though it wasn’t really his, just a rental whilst he was in miami. still, your fingers found the pleasure of finding the leather that boarded the doors, wondering just how much leather you could adorn as decoration. 
lando, on the other hand, was white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time, debating whether or not his hand would find a good home on the skin of your thigh. your dress had been too long for that, though, and he didn’t…fuck, he didn’t even know. he was anxious to be with you this weekend, not hesitating to call you to be the first one to come down to congratulate him.
he had so many other girls. why did he choose you? he didn’t know it himself, wasn’t sure if he was ready to face such intense truths, but his heart led him astray dialing your phone number. he didn’t even hesitate nor want to connect with another girl, just you. 
fucking hell, and you looked heavenly in that dress. he would spend the entire fucking night shifting his pants to hide his stark boner from your eyes. 
rolling up to the club, he gave his keys to the valet and you stepped out, fixing the fabric of your scrunched dress. you made your way over to him, elegant as ever, when the cameras began to flash. the amount of attention frightened you, and your phone fell to the ground. it clattered against the pavement. 
lando reached down smoothly to pick it up for you, his movements lingering for a moment. when he rose, his hand grazed the back of your exposed calf, trailing up your body to rest on the fabric of your lower back, the top of your ass. you wanted to swat his hand away teasingly, but for the night…you’d allow it. the cameras flashed more and more. lando only separated from you to take a few selfies with fans, but that had been it. 
his hand found your back once more, pulling the fabric down that was scrunched at the back. he also did it as an excuse to rest his hand on your ass. guilty!
and you let him. more cameras flashed. he was yours for the evening. so you’d relish in the momentary fame, but would surely be horrified by the comments the next morning. but fuck it, you looked hot in this dress and wouldn’t let these heels go to waste. let them envy you, for you were surely going to envy the next girl on his arm. what? no you weren’t. that thought was fleeting. you were shocked that you imagined of such a scenario. 
inside the club was an ambiance of celebratory cadence. it was lively. the bright lights, cheering on goers. everyone seemed to swarm lando, congratulating him and patting him on the back. he was so happy here. 
you attempted to shimmy out of the limelight to give him the attention he deserved, but he tightened his hold on you, digging his fingertips into your waist. you were surprised, looking at him with confusion, but he didn’t even take his eyes off of one of the mclaren engineers who attended the festivities. 
playing arm candy wasn’t your specialty, but you had the basics down. smile and laugh. straight posture. being fucking perfect. easy stuff, you know? surely sitting in an office chair for your day to day would enthuse a straight spine. surely listening to your old, ratty coworkers jokes would have you rolling with laughter and smiles. surely it was the easiest thing in the world to be perfect for lando norris–
your name was called by a girl at your side. it was alexandra!
you gasped, swinging out of lando’s arms and throwing yourself into her. she caught you, looking absolutely elegant while doing it, and smiled into your hair. 
“thank god you’re here!” you cheered, your hands landing on her shoulders to steady yourself. she looked stunning this evening. but she always did. you envied her for that much. 
“of course!” her french accent was sweet and endearing. her voice was even softer. “none of us would miss it. i’m glad you’re here!” 
alexandra and you had grown a relationship over the past few years you’ve been acquainted with lando. she seemed to always be where you were, and by coincidence, the two of you followed each other on tiktok and realized you had, if not, the same humor. you began messaging each other back and forth, and there you had it– a beautiful friendship between the two of you. being long distance best friends was hard, but it was times like these that you were grateful to see her. 
lando had froze when he felt you slip from his grasp, a horrible feeling of incomprehensible dread washing over him that he couldn’t pinpoint why. he interrupted the conversation he was having to see you with your arms wrapped around alexandra, kissing both of her cheeks. his face flushed, hand tightening on the drink he was given by his mates. 
why not him? 
lando excused himself and clung to your side. you jumped at the feeling of his hand around your waist, eyes snapping up to meet his… irritated ones? you were at a loss as to what could warrant such a look, but you didn’t let it linger when you shifted closer to him, your hips against his thighs. he seemed to relax both his body and face, giving alexandra a smile.
she was amidst congratulating him when charles and carlos approached. rebecca at carlos’ side. 
“is this a party or…?” charles remarked, luring you all to the center of the room to dance. lando glanced at you. you could feel his eyes, but you didn’t meet them. not yet. you thought that if you had, you wouldn’t be able to stop tonight. not with how good he looked, not with how he smelled. 
on the dance floor was no better. his hands were all over you. it was a bittersweet homecoming to feel so close to you, so flustered. but you loved the way he made you feel. pure adrenaline. alive. your hips swayed and grinded into his own, him matching your pace with a drink in his hand. there had been one in yours too, but you downed it already. 
at one point when the beat dropped, they all began to shout his name. you included. his cheeky little smile had him muster the courage to down his drink, emptying the large glass. whoops and hollers filled the club, and there were no more words to describe how magical this night was for him. he would remember it forever, and you couldn’t blame him. 
he was magnificent in the spotlight. with a charming tongue, funny jokes, and charisma that had him swooping up any girl he could want. there were a pack of women surrounding him before he pulled you by the arm, interrupting your conversation with alexandra, twirling you to be plastered against his side. the women’s attention didn’t last long after that. 
“cheeky, aren’t you?” you raised your lips to his ears, daring to lay one against the top of his throat. you felt him swallow, his adams apple thick and bobbing. 
“don’t like to be a cornered animal.” you knew it was meant to be a joke, but there was a layer of truth to it that you couldn’t ignore. lando didn’t do well in crowds without flustering with anxiety. to that truth about him, you could toast to. 
you were back on the floor with him in a matter of minutes, engaging in conversation with alexandra and charles. lando was talking to others as well, but he was firm against your back, hand on your stomach. the action had you blushing, unable to forget any time that he’d lay his hands there, asking if you could feel him. and you could. now, you could feel the imprint of his cock behind you. you didn’t know how he could last this long without asking you to fuck him in the bathroom, but you weren’t complaining. 
yet!
steadily as the night progressed, he would be laced with sweat and the smell of him. a mix of body odor, sure, it smelt like lando. your lando for the night. he flashed you a smile as he leaned over your body from behind, both hands gripping your hips against him. 
you returned the gesture, but were much more bashful than he anticipated. you were giving him that look. a look that he had become trained to respond to. his dick instantly hardened. pavlov was onto something, wasn’t he? 
you both had been there for hours. you could only handle so many more amped up bass drops. and you were both plastered enough. it was around four in the morning when you were tumbling out, giggling and laughing at who knows what. 
one of the valet club drivers even drove the both of you back to the hotel. neither of you are in the state to drive. 
in the car, one of your legs was atop his, slotted between his thighs. you could feel his pulsing cock and your mouth watered at the sensation. he was staring at you through dangerously dark eyes, reflecting back your own stare of desire. it was like looking in a mirror for the both of you. ravaging and desperate to have one another’s hands on each other’s bodies. 
lando took liberty and lowered his head to your exposed shoulder, pulling down a thin strap of your dress to your bicep. he kissed the skin tenderly, an action too intimate for your own good, but you were too fucking drunk to deny it. 
“fucking beautiful,” he muttered into your skin, quiet for only your ears to touch. you let your fingers trace up the side of his face lazily, feeling your gaze spinning beneath his tender words. 
“i’m proud of you,” you whispered, brushing a stray curl from his sticky forehead up into the rest of his hairs. “you know that, don’t you?” 
your voice had been tender. delicious to his drunken ears. though he knew he’d remember this sober– he had a feeling. how could he forget that tone of voice, your gentle touch, clearly breaking the bounds of what was too intimate.
he gulped, eyes flaring wide at your declaration. his hand found your thighs then, gripping the soft flesh with depth. 
your fingers traced down to his bottom lip, puckering the flesh, but dropped to the car seat with a laugh. you brushed off his shocked expression, leaning back into the cool leather. but his grip didn’t relent. he kept his eyes on you, too, unable to find something else to fixate on. you were the object of all of his desires. he confirmed it then when he was desperate to hear more of your unsolicited praises from your lips. 
he craved your lips. 
lando’s head dropped to your waist, his face nuzzling into your soft flesh. he kissed through the fabric of your dress, desperate to feel you beneath such a guarding sheath from your skin. you turned your head to look at him from where your gaze latched to the window, your hand rolling down the curve of his neck. 
you kept your hand there for the remainder of the drive, but didn’t look down at him. you knew you’d be face with those desperate, glistening green eyes of his. you’d fall weak beneath the light of his love, and you’d find yourself disappointed when he didn’t want what you did. a relationship, dare you think it just for one second. 
the valet driver dropped the two of you off and was able to manage a cab on his own back to the club. lando tipped him a hundred euros for his time, beginning to sober himself enough to walk in a straight line and speak without slurring his speech. 
you were the same. stretching your legs from the car, hands above your head in a dramatic feline stretch. lando’s eyes were on you the entire time, gaping at your figure. your ass. his lip caught between his teeth, and you caught him ogling. 
your hips began to sway beneath the music of his eyes. you’re unable to resist his humorous allure, crumbling the second the second the corner of his eyes uplifted. a smile followed, his gapped, perfect, teeth shimmering the reflections of the pale moonlight. 
he stretched out his arm for you to join him at his side. you sashayed there, twirling in your heels that ached your feet. but you did it for him. you’d do it all, though the alcohol was driving your thoughts. 
lando swooped you into his grasp, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his fingertips into your hips. you laughed amicably, his presence both a comfort and a feat of pride. 
you mustered the strength to break his hold, trotting up the steps of the hotel. your heels were loud in the quiet, tender moments of the rising miami sun, and your giggles even more so. lando wasn’t far behind, skipping the steps to catch up with you. 
you’d never seen him hit an elevator button harder. you resisted the urge to laugh, knowing it was an impossible situation to be so loud at dawn. so you bit your fist in your mouth, choking down a sound that lando yearned to hear. 
when the elevator arrived he jumped right in, dragging you along– though it’s not like you hesitated– by your elbow. 
he immediately began trailing kisses down your throat, the column of your neck, your collarbones, shoulders. he left no place untouched by his devout, worshipping lips. he’d often say in the heat of the moment that you were the best thing he’s ever tasted– a man feral for your sweet nectar– but you just thought it to be the post-euphoria sex high. 
the british driver muttered something into your neck which had your eyes flaring wide, uncertain if you heard him correctly. 
you pushed his head back, gripping at the curls near the base of his neck. “what did you say?”
he looked flushed. embarrassed. he choked on his words, shaking his head. he was clearly brushing it off. 
“nothin’.”
he resumed devouring your neck, saliva dripping onto your dress, but his words bubbled. 
the ding of the elevator alerted both of you. he was the one to lead the way to his hotel room, swiftly opening the door with skilled ease, and had you against the wall in minutes. he gripped at the fabric of your dress, tempting to rip it. you hissed with contempt. “don’t,” he looked up at you with heavy eyes and a half toothed smirk, challenging you. “too expensive.” 
you felt him scoff against the skin of your chest. “‘too expensive.’” he mocked. 
but he heeded your words, gentle with how he lowered the straps to your forearms. your head lolled against the wall, eyes glistening with liquidated pleasure. there was nothing better in the world that could feel better than lando norris’ lips against your skin. each press was a blessing, a kiss of life, hungry for the divination you relented this evening. 
“so fucking beautiful,” he breathed when he shimmied you out of the dress, neatly undoing the zipper. you wore nothing under the dress besides panties, which had his eyes gawking at your taut, perked nipples. you shifted forward, desperate for his touch on your suddenly cold body. 
lando didn’t wait. his cock was already painfully hard in his pants, punishing the fabric for being so restrictive. he pulsated, precum already ruining the pair. 
his lips found your nipple, other palm fisting the firm flesh. you let out a sweet moan that was delicious to his starving ears, your hips bucking into his for a relenting yearn for release. he let out the deepest chuckle from his throat, finding such impending amusement for your desire. 
when he was contempt with the titillation of your nipples, he moved to the skin of your belly, biting softly at the skin. enough to leave bruises for his own eyes when he’d see you next. next. there was always a next with you. 
but you had other plans. 
your hands reached for his face, pulling him to meet your eyes. his own blew wide, flickering to your lips, to your eyes. 
“let me,” you whimpered, reaching for the buckle of his pants. he’d stop you, usually intending on getting you off with his lips or tongue before he could even cum. but tonight, he couldn’t resist your lips. you looked up at him with pure heaven written in your iris’. 
he swallowed before nodding his head rapidly, his forehead leaning into yours. “yeah, yeah, please.” 
lando norris wasn’t a man to beg. he didn’t have to do any of that shit for his other girls– they were always eager to please him, fuck him, suck him off– but for you…
your lips found his neck, feeling the thick muscles with your tongue. it was arousing how muscular each part of his body was, thundering with endurance. 
there was a soft mewl in his throat when you slid your hand down the front of his pants, beneath his briefs, over the length of his cock. the sound excited you tenfold– wishing that you could hear it a hundred times over again. it was addicting how he wanted you. 
when your finger grazed his tip, his hips bucked instinctively into you, just how yours had. he cursed under his breath, letting his head fall limp into the crevice of your neck. 
you laughed into his skin, finally falling to your knees to drop his pants and briefs. his cock sprung free, red and vibrating for your touch. your touch. you often wondered how his other girls treated him. if you were better, if you were the worst. obviously not the worst if he was the one to call you after his first win, right?
one hand stroked his length, traveling to his balls, simultaneously glancing up at him. he was staring down at you, riddled with urgency, a pleading look reflecting in your eyes. his bottom lip caught between his teeth when his hand found the back of your head, stroking the sides of your face. 
his thumb caressed your bottom lip. it caused your lips to open for him, and his thumb found your tongue. you swirled it around the pad of his finger, never breaking the shared look between you two. you let him go with a pop, and he found his hand at the base of your neck again, hand wrapping a makeshift ponytail with his hand. 
your lips swirled around the head of his cock, swallowing the precum that dampened his briefs. he held back a rumble in his throat which annoyed you, so you took him wide in your mouth, bottoming him out in the back of your throat. 
your cunt clenched around nothing when his whole body sang in praise of your lips. he faltered when you began a steady pace of back and forth, stimulating his balls with your other hand. curses fell from his lips, sinful words, and he gripped your hair tightly. with his other one, he fell forward against the wall, bracing for dear life.
but you didn’t relent. faster and faster you went, and you were awarded by his hips snapping into you, cock gagging your windpipe. you choked, tears forming in your eyes, but it was divine how satisfying it was. to see his eyes rolling back into his head, hands shaking, desperate to feel you up. from this position, below him, you could see the entire world. you had it all on the tip of your tongue. 
“fuck, baby…” he groaned. you felt so good around him. warm and tight. it felt like fucking home for him. somewhere he’d always come back to. and he would. no other girl could make him feel this way, had him about to cum in a matter of three minutes. your lips were made to take his cock, and he would yell that to hell and back for the entire world to know. 
he felt you moan against his cock, the sound echoing in your throat. he swallowed harshly, drool dripping down the side of his chin at the sight of you alone. you were perfect. 
and when your hand came to run over your nipples, kneading at the skin of your breasts, he felt his abdomen tighten. you found so much pleasure in sucking him off that you felt the need to touch yourself. fuck, he never thought he’d see something so hot in his entire life. 
he knew he’d been done for in a matter of seconds. with a firm grip of your hair, he pulled you back from his cock. you looked offended, disappointed when the drool from your lips trailed down your chin. 
“not yet,” he uttered, gripping the side of your face with his other hand. his cock was angry, furious at the lack of attention. he was practically fucking edging himself. “wanna cum inside you.” 
say less, you wished to say, but all that came out from your lips was a whine. 
and then you were laid out on your back on his bed. the white sheets were clean and made, cold beneath your scorching skin. 
lando traced two fingers up your thigh, the junction of your hips, your waist. you shivered, toes clenching at the sensation. then to your naval, your pussy, your dampened underwear. a ruined pair, no doubt. he smirked, lip curling. 
“all for me, huh?” 
you nodded instantly. 
his hand slapped against your flushed pussy. you whimpered, grasping at the sheets. 
“words, pretty girl.”
“yes!” you gasped when you felt him tug the underwear down your legs. “you, you, you, lando. all you.”
he practically purred. your folds were swollen and glistening, drenched from how his cock pounded into your mouth. “so wet,” he observed, twisting his fingers to trail up your slit, gathering the slick between his fingers. he raised the pair to his mouth, tasting your sweet juice on his tongue. your legs pulsed together, eager for friction, a quiet mewl leaving your throat at the sight. “tastes like heaven.”
“lando…” you were getting impatient now. rightfully so. he stood there with his hardened cock, teasing you with his firm fingers. 
“what’dya want, baby? hm?” he asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be. yet he’d trace his hands gently up the sides of your body, fingers dancing over your nipples. you writhed. 
“you.” you said endearingly. “fuck me, lan, please.” 
he was so impressed with your manners that he couldn’t resist slipping his cock inside of you. atop of you he caged you in, a blessed enclosure, lips pressing to your exposed chest. you whined at the initial stretch, always finding yourself so tight around his thick cock. 
“fuck, lando.” you hissed, teeth clenching at his immaculate girth. it was a pleasurable burn, and your arousal only had you clenching around him. he huffed through his nose, hot hair breathing over your skin. 
“i know, baby,” he reassured you with his bittersweet voice. “y’can take me, can’t you? always such a good girl for me.” 
you whined at his words, low moan bellowing in your throat. you squelched with your slick and he could feel it. he smirked, having the gall to chuckle, even. but you didn’t punish him for it, especially not when he began to move his hips back and forth, a pair of fingers coming to rub against the bundle of nerves placatated at your clit. 
the sensation of feeling him slip in and out of you was impeccable. you could find no other pleasure than his cock nestled inside of you, filling you to the absolute hilt of your dreams. the imprint of his dick had him riled with lust when it ran over your lower belly. 
“feel me here,” his hand came to grab yours, bringing it to the imprint of his cock inside of you. “don’t you?” 
you nodded, lip catching between your teeth and opposite hand threading through his curls as if you were a needle and thread. “so good, lando, please. keep going.” 
and he did. if you asked him to do anything right now, he would’ve. the slapping of skin echoed in the hotel room, filling silence with vulgar sounds from both of your lips. lando was a moaning mess at the pulses of your cunt, intent on sucking him dry from his cum. and he was an expert at navigating your clit, pinching and swirling the rough pads of his fingers. 
your eyes rolled in the back of his head when you bucked your hips for a better angle. “deeper,” you said, finding a grim satisfaction at the thought of him splitting you open. 
his eyes flashed to yours, bloodshot and red with lust, and shifted so your thighs were over his shoulders. your back arched for him and he was pleased to see your receptiveness. his hips didn’t falter, and neither did his hands. 
this angle had been more than what any gospel could provide. more than any destiny written out for you. fucking him was written in the stars, you knew it for certain, and you blossomed into a glistening constellation before him. for he was the entire universe for you, and you just a mere fractal in the midst of it all. 
but oh, how that wasn’t true. how you were the sun in which he orbited, woke up and thought of. you were the first person that he called after his father, needing your presence with him in miami. he needed this. your cunt. your pleasures, your moans. you, it was on the tip of his tongue, edging its way forward through the kisses he laid upon your neck. 
you were drenched in his saliva, coated in the thick musk of lando norris. he would never say it aloud but he dreamed of the day to see his cum dripping down your thighs, full of him, the remnants of your love affair sticky and haughty with each step that you’d take. 
it was a primal instinct that became so vicious. it overtook him, thwarting him into a dick-measuring contest whenever you went out with him. he’d keep you close. his, the message would be clear. no man would approach you when he had his hand on your lower back, your hips in his hands, your pelvis grinding against his own. you were his own keepsake. the light at the end of the tunnel. a brazen warrior that he’d follow into any battle. 
the only battle he was intending on winning was the war of your heart, blessed be his troops. 
it only took a few more harsh thrusts of his cock and twiddling of his fingers before you were painfully close to a release. he could feel it. he knew it like the back of his hand. your trembling legs, intense writhing against his hold, your breathy moans. he wished he could take a picture of you, flushed and desperate, and keep it in his wallet. 
“come on, baby.” he urged, feeling the own heat of his orgasm rising in his lower stomach. he had been resisting the urge to cum for your sake, always finding a deeper satisfaction in seeing your overstimulated face after the fact. 
“come for me, won’t you? pretty thing. i’ve got you,” the words of praise that were only meant for you. he didn’t call any of his other girls ‘baby’, but you wouldn’t know that. you couldn’t know. it would ruin all of this, wouldn’t it? wouldn’t it? 
i’ve got you, he said tenderly. it’s what had you compulsing, drenching his cock in your slick. your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the euphoria of what was lando norris’ pleasure. 
he was staring at your worn out face, his own tongue coming to swipe at his bottom lip. he was ready to feast on you. 
lando’s own orgasm was swift to follow. the rhythm of his hips faltered, sloppily, aggressively. the overstimulation against the walls of your cunt was delectable. 
“come for me,” you begged him. it had his eyes flaring once more, shocked to hear such a request from your pretty lips. “inside me, lan, need it…” 
“fuck…” he groaned, and with one last snap of his hips he was spilling out inside of you. his forehead fell into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. your chests moved in unison, catching your breaths after such an intense fuck. 
you were sticky against him. his body fell atop of yours, and your hands wrapped around his back. one hand came to run up and down his neck again, which had his eyes fluttering with sleep. but he didn’t let himself, and instead moved to get a towel for you both.
he slipped outside of you, the warmth of your cunt had his expression falling. he saw your face, too, empty once he made his way to the on suite. he grabbed a handheld towel and ran it under the warm water, and crossed the space between the bathroom and the bed. 
lando let it run up your thighs, between your legs. your cunt was swollen still, his cum thick and dripping from your slit. he smirked to himself, cleaning the remnants of himself from the immediate vicinity, but wouldn’t go further. 
you were aware. entirely too aware of how warm you felt. how filled you were. it was filthy how good sex with him was. you could never orgasm with any man but him. 
lando fell to the bed beside you, opening the sheet for you to slip in beside him. you hesitated, never having spent an entire night with him, except for a few drunk evenings. did this count? you weren’t sure. you’d certainly remember that mind blowing orgasm. 
but his eyes were drooping with sleep, weary when you hesitated. you couldn’t resist, and slid in beside him, comforted by the furnace of his body. 
lando’s head found home, once more, in the side of your neck. you brushed the hairs from his sweating forehead, roamed through his scalp. you ran circles through his hair until you heard the soft snores coming from him. it only took a few seconds for him to fall asleep in your arms and for once, you were perfectly content with that. if this was what your life would be, then so be it. 
the british driver woke approximately twenty four hours later. 
when he woke, you were not there. 
he was startled as he searched for you, but there was no sign of you. he sat up in his bed, sun peeking in through the curtains. he rubbed his eyes, hand resting on the spot that you had laid in. there was an imprint from your body. 
when he checked his phone, he knew he was in deep shit. 
“fuck.” it really had been a full day that he slept through.
but there were no texts from you. 
his gut tightened, heart beating loudly in his throat. why are there no texts from you? 
he scanned the room to find a glass of water on the nightstand, previously iced from the ring of water around the side of it. and there was a note, too, with some ibuprofen. he picked it up. 
had a good night
proud of you always
text me when you’re up x
and it was signed by you. 
he folded the piece of paper.
he supposed it was a good night. the best sex he’s ever had, in fact, and wouldn’t forget his own confession in the elevator. he wasn’t sure if you heard it or not, but there was a part of him that wanted you to. 
“you were always my favorite,” he spoke into the column of your neck. 
the next time you saw lando was in monaco. 
you were back home and invited by alexandra to the paddocks for the home race of charles. you accepted, of course, hoping to catch a glimpse of lando. 
you hadn’t texted him much, but neither had he. you heard first from him on that tuesday morning and it had you smiling at the airport, bags in hand. you texted back, and it was sporadic from there on out. it’s been a few days since either of you’ve said a word, and it was beginning to wane on you. 
alexandra repeated your name. 
“yeah?” you responded, head snapping towards her direction. 
“i asked if you were feeling alright.” 
“oh.” you breathed, laughing it off. “of course, do i not seem okay?” alexandra shook her head, petting leo’s little head in her hands. 
“you’ve been quiet, that’s all.” 
and you had been. but since she noticed, you were determined to make her forget about it. 
“nervous for charles,” you lied. but alexandra bought it and agreed with you, shedding her anxieties for her boyfriend’s home race. 
you were standing on the balcony with her in ferrari’s hospitality. you looked elegant today, matching alexandra’s own vibe. your hands were clasped together as you were leaning down, watching the drivers go in and out for their free practice. 
alexandra was still ranting about how nervous she was for charles when you saw him.
the papaya was noticeable from anywhere. 
lando
lando and company. 
a girl trailing behind him. her hair was done neatly, blonde, painfully thin. you grimaced against your will, face scrunching with a bitterness you had never felt before. 
alexandra tapped your elbow before she looked down at what you were staring at. 
“asshole.” she remarked, scoffing. 
you raised a brow. “you think so?”
alexandra nodded as if it was obvious. “don’t know why he brings them around,” she sighed. “not when he could have you.” 
you never felt so flattered before. you blushed, thanking her for saying something so kind. though you denied having feelings for him. she knew it was a lie this time. 
lando glanced up at the balcony, finding your eyes inevitably. he could feel your stare at the back of his head. 
and he fucking waved. 
the girl beside him looked up, too, but she did not. 
you could see lando’s smile from up here, but in your intensive bitterness, you did not wave back. you stood and turned to go back into ferrari’s hospitality, not thinking twice about your decision. 
the rest of the weekend you spent in bitter earnest. you’ve never seen yourself in such a state. but you plastered on a smile for alexandra and charles, entirely too elated when he crossed the finish line first in monaco. you held her as she weeped with joy. 
and, of course, you were invited to the festivities for the evening. your attitude was soured by the girl latched to lando’s arm throughout the entire weekend. but he looked so nonchalant with her, careless. none of it mattered. you’d put on your best dress for the evening. 
in the club you were found nursing a martini in your hand, not quaint on the taste, but were keen on getting wasted. you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit storm of emotions were brewing inside of your head. seeing lando with another girl was not new for you to witness. it was the norm, in fact, and you never thought about it otherwise.
but something changed that night of his win in miami. you knew it. he knew it. the words he uttered into your neck in that elevator was sending you up the wall and skyrocketing into the abyss of the universe. and you believe that somehow, he would find you.
he would find you. 
lando saw you instantly when you entered with alexandra and charles. rebecca and carlos paired together, too, leaving you the odd one out with no arm candy on display. good, the thought was impulsive. 
the girl beside him was giggling at something he said. but it wasn’t meant as a joke. he was convinced that she just had no idea what he was talking about, and was eager for a good fuck from him. he knew his skills of pleasure were not in comparison to any low life dude, but no girl could fulfill the void of receptiveness. of yearning desire. 
so when he tilted his head back to down the rest of his drink, he grimaced at the taste, and turned back to the girl he brought with him. but he kept stealing glances at you in your short dress. it was like you were punishing him– were you? he suddenly felt like a dog, a bad boy, reared and chained to the dog house outside your house of a heart. 
but you didn’t see him. not for a while, actually. you were intent on staying true to your morals– staying away from him this evening. he only brought trouble for you. confusion. you were sick of this back and forth, and most importantly, this rotten feeling of jealousy. it wasn’t a good look on you, or so you thought. 
“dance with me?” alexandra asked you. you accepted, of course, grabbing her hand and holding it high above the crowds as she led you to the dance floor. you were both twirling and laughing with your drinks in hand, purely electric with the rap music. charles joined her, gripping her from behind. you couldn’t help but watch, gulping down the feeling of envy. 
alexandra noticed. she knew what you were going through, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud. your ‘relationship’ with lando has gone on for far too long without any real commitment. everyone knew he was your favorite girl to be around, except you. you were the only one, apparently, who didn’t know that lando looked at you like a goddess reincarnate. 
and when you shook off your thoughts of envy, your eyes found another pair staring back at you.
sharp emeralds, piercing through the musk of the club.
your breath hitched, catching solemnly in your throat. 
the blonde was grinding up against him, throwing her head back against his shoulders. one hand was on her hip, the other with an empty shot glass in his hand. the girl was enjoying herself, at least, and you wondered if he fucked her the same as he did you. 
his eyes didn’t leave yours as his hips swayed in motion with hers. his hair was disheveled, a coat of sweat gleaning on his forehead. 
the pair of you were waiting to see who would break first. who would succumb to the challenge. you wanted so desperately to win, to grab another random man and kiss on his neck, but you were detested. 
the air inside the club felt heavy, and the world would collapse on you. the weight was too much on your shoulders as you became lightheaded. 
“i need air,” you said to alexandra before you fled from the dance floor, leaving your glass on the counter. 
the air of monaco was brisk when it pierced your skin, your thighs, your shoulders. but it was a much needed refreshment from the confines of that fucking club. you felt nauseous, sickened by lando’s eye contact with you. how dare he. 
you looked around before turning the corner of the club, seeing a pair of men smoking a cigarette. 
“care to share?” 
the men glanced at one another and the one holding the pack nodded. he handed you one and you placed it to your lips. he held out the lighter, too, and lit it for you. 
you weren’t one to smoke. it was a drunk cigarette kind of night. 
they insisted on you staying with them, talking each other up to be some pair of scrouges who deserved your attention. you politely declined their advances and walked the other way, feeling colder when the tobacco hit your lungs. 
when you blew out your first puff, it wasn’t long before the cigarette was ripped from your lips. 
“hey–” 
“this shit isn’t good for you.” 
lando.
he found you out here. rather, he chased you out. the minute he saw you turn your back he scrambled, pushing past every person that came in his way.
you scoffed, unable to look at him as you crossed your arms. 
“you don’t know what’s good for me.”
he paused, sucking in a tight breath. his jaw clenched. the cigarette was thrown to the ground, crushed beneath his foot. 
“rude–” you uttered, cut off when he grabbed your elbow. that had you looking at him. and his expression didn’t disappoint.
his eyes were widened, pupils blown wide as he looked into your own. his lip trembled momentarily, jaw entirely too tight for his own good. 
“what’s going on with you?” he wondered, holding eye contact with you. 
“nothing.” you answered instantly, brushing him off. but he didn’t accept that. 
“‘nothing,’” he mocked. “you’re not a very good liar.” 
you hummed. “thanks.” 
the conversation widdled down, but he wasn’t about to give up. 
“tell me,” he requested, his face pulling closer to yours. you had to give it to him. he was determined. but you were too.
“there’s nothing to tell.” you bit back. 
“i care about you. come on–” your name fell sweetly from his lips. he was prepared to grovel at any second now. 
but you cut him off. “ohhh…! yeah, right, you care? pfft, no need to pretend, lando.” 
he pulled back, shocked that you got in his face. your words were cruel, but he felt the double meaning behind them. 
“what?” he asked, softly. you knew then that he was hurt. 
but jealousy was a monster.
“i wish i was as stupid as you think i am.” you rambled, hands thrown up with emotion. but you were done with this conversation. “fuck it, i’m leaving–”
but he used his other hand to ground you before him. “don’t.” he pleaded. eyes watering. 
“what? like you’d notice?” 
then the bells chimed in his head. an alert that he understood what this was. he was stupid in not knowing what was happening before him. 
you’re jealous. 
“didn’t take you for a jealous type.”
you scoffed. “you’re ridiculous.”
but he shook his head and tsked. “can’t believe it, baby, that you hid it for so long.” 
“fuck you.”
he blew out a huff of air as if he were wounded, hand coming to run over his chest. it was a fatal one, that was for sure. you tried again to push past him, but to no avail nor universe would he let you go. 
“come home with me.”
his words were determined, sincere, though there was a layer of softness to it. like unsweetened honey that poured from his lips. 
you stared at him. “what?” 
he laughed. “you heard me. let me take you home.”
you couldn’t tell if he was being serious. couldn’t tell if he was mocking you. your facial expression dropped from its intense anger. 
“don’t…” you started, feeling the heat of emotions that you’ve been burying come to the surface. your eyes swelled with tears but fuck, you promised you’d never cry over him. “don’t be mean, lando.”
his smile dropped. he knew then that you weren’t playing around, messing with him in the ways you usually had. what was this feeling inside of him? guilt? he wanted nothing more than to fix whatever he’s done. the instinct blazed a fire through his veins, igniting a deep rooted reaction that he feared only you could bring out of him. 
his hand came to cup your cheek. you flinched backward, staring at the palm of his hand through your wet lashes, but allowed his touch. 
“come here…” his hand dropped from your cheek to hold out for you to melt into. an invitation for a hug. 
you hesitated, shifting closer on your tip toes. when you were in close enough reach, he grabbed you, earning a yelp. 
his body was warm. he pulled you flush against his chest, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. his hands were wrapped firmly around your torso. was he shaking? 
he was. lando was wrought with a surplus of emotion when he saw your anger diffuse. he loved to feel all of your emotions, it reminded him that you cared about him. but when he saw it disappear, faze into an abyss of melancholy, his heart set into overdrive. he never got such a rush of adrenaline before. not from racing. not from anything else in his life.
you relaxed into him, shutting your eyes. there was a wet stain from the single tears that fell from your face on his shirt. 
but you didn’t care. he smelled so good. it was lando. your lando. 
“let me take you home.”
your nose buried into his shirt. his stubble dug into your neck. 
“your place,” you muttered. “i want to go to yours.” 
his place was always for special occasions. but to your unbeknownst knowledge, you were the only girl he’s ever taken there. the only woman he’s fucked in his bed. 
he stuttered. “yeah,” he cleared his throat. “yeah, of course we can.”
you didn’t even end up texting alexandra goodbye. you were too wrung tight with your jealousy, coined poignantly by lando himself. he was quick to catch on to your attitude shift, but you could tell he was frightened. at least you wished for it to be. 
but he was. his heart plummeted when your anger reached him. it did more than touch him, it ripped him apart, had his heart bleeding in plain sight. anyone could see it except you. it was never you who saw the love beneath his eyes. 
lando’s apartment was just how you remembered it to be. 
open space, loosely decorated. it was rather bland. 
“you kept it!” you ran your fingers over the displayed teddy bear, one that you had won for him at a fair. 
he shut the door behind you two, locking it. he let out a soft hum. “‘course i did.” 
he said it like it was obvious. he would never get rid of anything that you’d give him. you squeezed the teddy bear in your palms, but dropped it when you felt lando’s arms wrap around your waist from behind. 
his lips found your neck in an instant. 
“i missed you.” 
you tensed. back arching, you turned your head to look at him, angled perpendicular to his face burrowed into the junction of your neck and collarbones. 
“really, now?” 
he chuckled against your skin, fanning his warm breath through your body. the hairs on the back of your neck rose instinctively, choosing to hold your breath instead of express anger. though you couldn’t help the huff through your nose. 
“you’re so vicious when you’re jealous, darling.” he thought this was funny. it angered you even more, attempting to writhe out of his hold. but he didn’t relent, keeping you taught against his chest. asshole. 
“am not.” 
he tsked. 
“sure.” he continued his trail of kisses down your neck. you fell into him, head lolling back and eyes rolling. fuck, his lips were always so good. he was so good to you. 
“am not.” you said again, biting back a moan when his hands came to your forefront, parting your legs for his hands to rest between your thighs. 
“whatever you say.” 
your hips grinded against his own in retaliation which had him humming in soft praises. his fingers trailed the lining of your panties, other hand holding your hip firmly . 
“because i’m not–” the moan that was pulled from your throat was pure divinity to lando’s ears. his fingers had run up your slit, teasing your entrance. blood ran down to your body, fueling your cunt to a puffy state. your weight went lax against his hold, which he was perfectly capable of supporting you. 
“not what?” he dared you to continue, not when he had you numb in his hold already. he was clearly cocky. you could hear the smirk in his voice. 
“i’m not–” you were determined. but lando was coming back in full force. his middle finger teased you, pushing between your slick, finding the warmth of your walls. you sucked in a tight breath, feeling just how wet you’ve become. 
“so wet, baby,” he said into your ear. “what were you saying?” 
“fuck–” you sighed, whining. “i’m not jeal–” 
and then he seized the bundle of nerves around your clit, curling his middle finger inside of you. you cursed, sweat beginning to bead around your forehead. 
“mhm.” lando proved himself right when you couldn’t mutter out a sentence, becoming dumb on his fingers alone. he began a steady pace with just a singular digit, flexing in and out of you supported by your natural lubrication.  
“more–” you pleaded. it had him standing up straight, reacting to your soft pleas like he was a dog to a treat. pavlov, and all that shit. he found himself staring down at the sight of your two– his finger etching in and out of you, drenched in your sweet nectar. if he was no better than a dog, why was he about to drool? 
“yeah? you can take another?” you were rapidly nodding against the back of his shoulder, biting your lip.
“yes, please. please, lando.” you mewled, gripping at his forearms that caged you in. you never wanted to be chained down, but for pleasure like this, you felt as though you could make an exception. 
he obeyed. adding a second finger was close enough to your release, and you knew that was barreling forward at any minute. if he kept this assault of your clit up and the delicious curl of his fingers, you would melt into a puddle. 
and you knew he would. if lando started something, he would finish it. the only priority for him was to make sure you reached an orgasm. that was a promise, forever and always. 
he found himself bucking his hips into you, the sight of you weak in his arms becoming too much for him to handle. the friction between his pants and your hot cunt was too irresistible. what can he say? you were just pure bottled heaven. 
his thumb had been applying more intense pressure to your clit. your face was entirely flushed now, brightened from his attention. he was entirely to carnal to hear the noises you made. noises for him to hear, no one else. 
but his pace was slow. teasing. you felt like this was a punishment. your lip curled, face contorting with both pleasure and angst. “please, please.” you whimpered. 
“what, baby? what do you want?” smug. always so smug. 
you gripped his hand that was flexing inside of you, tightening your grip. he chuckled deeply. 
“wanna come? that what you want?” 
your head bobbed up and down, breaths coming in fast pants. “need.” you corrected him, and he thought that he would fall dead at your feet. his jaw clenched, muscles in his arms flexing, and he would give you want you needed. 
you needed him. 
that was all that he needed to hear from you. 
you turned your head to look up at him with your bloodshot eyes, dreary with lust. lust for him. your lashes fluttered against your brow line, lip quivering with a singular wish. 
he wanted nothing more to kiss you. 
“fuck.” he groaned, your thighs were drenched in your slick, a sight he thought could never be hotter. and when he curled his two fingers sweetly, your hips bucked aggressively. he knew exactly how to navigate your body, but it was always so thrilling to see you react in such a way. 
“yeah?” he smirked, “that good?” 
“so good, lan,” the nickname you used for him was not intentional. it had his dick throbbing in his pants. fuck.
your words of praise would only have him working harder. he didn’t even need to add a third finger when your stomach snapped with tension, coming loose all over his fingers. your vision blurred, legs shaking rapidly. you cried out, head lolled against his shoulder. he held you tightly, and you didn’t miss how he stroked your hip with his thumb. a soothing action. 
how he could ever find this kind of pleasure in another woman, he didn’t know. but the challenge begged– could he ever admit that? 
his fingers remained buried in your cunt whilst you rode yourself free from your high. it was impossible to look anywhere else but you. 
and when he removed them, showing you the mess you made, his popped them into his mouth. it was such a vulgar statement, but you found yourself blushing. he sucked on his fingers, letting them out with a pop, clean as a whistle. 
“heavenly.” he reaffirmed. “no girl compares.” 
you froze, still delirious from your orgasm, but it had you spinning in his hold. he was slightly blurred in your vision, but you could make out his faintly cocky expression. 
“really, huh?” 
your attitude would have him rising, cocky attitude falling away instantly. 
he gulped. “guess so.” was this it? 
a smile grew on your face. your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, grooming through the back of his head. he smiled lazily, lip catching between his top teeth. 
but things like this didn’t last forever, did they?
there was a pounding knock at the door. it had you frightened, shifting your panties back into their rightful place. your fingers fixed your appearance the best you could, whilst lando adjusted his dick in his pants. 
“open the fucking door, lando!” 
it was a woman’s voice. 
your brow raised. 
“i know you’re in there with that bitch,” the woman seethed. you could feel her anger through the door– but you could feel your own flying through the roof. bitch? you didn’t fucking think so. 
you pushed past lando who was about to open the door and he called your name, attempting to stop you. 
the door flew open. “bitch?”
the blonde girl stood there. she clearly didn’t expect you to open the door. but she didn’t back down; fine. 
“yeah. bitch.” you straighten your posture. “he told me not to worry about you–” what? “and here you are, fucking him.” 
not quite, you wanted to correct her. 
“fuck off,” he said the girl’s name. “me and you aren’t a couple.” but she rolled her eyes anyway. 
“you promised me a good fuck, lando,” she had such a venom to her bite. it had you bristle. “i didn’t think you’d stoop so low.” 
“hey, now, don’t be–” lando started, but you were done. you had enough of this night. you turned back into his apartment and grabbed your handbag, your phone, and threw on your heels. you didn’t hesitate brushing past the pair. 
lando called your name. 
but you only turned your head over your shoulder. your gaze read an entire sentence that he felt up his entire body. 
two can play this game. 
3K notes · View notes
serejae · 2 months
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falling for u | c.hansol
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pairing : vernon x reader
WHAT ! - vernon slowly getting replaced by sofia ^_^ thank you to this anon !!!
warnings : kisses, petnames, mentions of the other svt members, slight skin ship, not proof read, established relationship au
-
when vernon had met you, he knew from the beginning that you were the one. being committed to someone romantically was scary for him but what scared him even more was the thought of introducing the wrong person to his family, his family was very special to him. vernon wouldnt introduce just anyone to his family
so when he laid down next to you in bed staring at the ceiling as you were on your phone and asked you
“do you wanna come back to new york with me? just to get away for a bit…and meet my family?”
the last part was a faint whisper but was loud enough for you to hear it. youve talked to his family over the phone on the occasion they call him and want to say hi to you, and kept contact with his mom and sister texting them every so often
but youve never actually met them in person
the thought of it shook you a bit knowing this was a big step in your guys relationship.
noticing your pause he held your hand “i promise theyll love you, they already do” he said comfortingly as he looked over at you
-
so there you both were standing in the airport in new york ready to pick up your bags. you ordered a uber as vernon picked up the luggages, and when he came back he kept his hand on your lower pack comfortably guiding you through the airport
the uber was quiet besides faint whispers between vernon and you. he pointed at places that he wanted to take you to or told you stories about his childhood remembering the sights as the car passed them
when you two got to vernons childhood house you guys thanked the drive as vernon opened the door for you and took out the luggages before thanking the driver
making your way to the door you stood there waiting for vernon as he approached with the bags, going down you grabbed one to help him instead of ringing the doorbell
“did you ring or knock?” he asked looking at you with a faint smile
“no, i wanted to help you” you bluffed tightening your grip on the suitcase
he smiled and rubbed his fingers over your grip “relax, its no big deal okay? youll fit in just fine” he assured as he rang the doorbell
you heard running to the door and see sofia smiling at you. she wrapped her arms around you causing you to smile hugging her back
“its so nice to see you in person” she mumbled into the hug
vernon smiled at the sight and cleared his throat causing sofia and you to break up the hug
“im here too” he smiled at his sister to which she rolled her eyes playfully “i can see that”
sofia brought you inside the house, inside you see his mom setting the table and his dad walking towards you to give you a hug catching his moms attention and joining in. they both hugged you as vernon watched smiling from afar knowing that he was right
you had nothing to worry about
vernon walked up stairs to his room to set down the bags. he looked around making mental notes of what to show you and the stories he has on his room. from the figurines, to the vinyls, and even the albums he had bought
as he walked downstairs he sees you and his family already seated as if he was the guest, he grinned and sat down by you making you sandwiched between sofia and him.
the table was filled with laughs, stories, and vernons embarrassment as his family exposed his embarrassing stories
as dinner ended you help clear the table letting you bond with his mom, as soon as you finished vernon watched as his sister brought you up to her room to talk
he shook his head as he saw you both go up stairs smiling knowing where this will lead
vernons mom and him caught up as he chilled in the kitchen with her
“you have a good person vernon” his mom told him making him smile for the 500th time, but he already knew that information he was happy that his family knew how great you were
-
he walked upstairs walking past his sisters room where he heard both of your guys laughs
vernon started unpacking yours and his stuff and laid out your pajamas for you as he freshened up
after maybe a hour and a half of him being up stairs he started to miss you but you was still with his sister. vernon laid in his bed debating on whether he should bring you back to his room or let you have fun with sofia when it clicked to him
YOURE HIS PARTNER?
he sat up and walked to sofias room softly knocking on the door before opening it catching both of your guys attention. you both looked over at him as if he was some intruders, he sat by you and tugged on your shirt slightly “come back to my room” he mumbled causing sofia to groan “no, stay with me”
vernon looked over at sofia “well this is my partner”
“and this is my best friend”
you watched as they both bickered enjoying the sibling dynamic between the both of them
“you have them all the time, i got like 3 hours with them” sofia defended herself
“well youll have a full week with them” vernon said ending the argument bringing you back to his room
-
vernon and you both laid down as you rested your head on his chest looking at the missing half dim sticky stars he had on his ceiling. he pointed at the different things in his room explaining the stories
pointing at a spiderman plush sitting on a shelf he starts speaking
“that one, my dad won it for me at-“
he was cut off by his door opening, you both looked up and see sofia peeking in
“yn, tomorrow do you wanna go explore with me?” she asked eagerly
“of course” you smiled making vernon look at you
“what about me?” he asked looking over at sofia to which she closed the door
he laughed slightly and rested back down on the bed
“i told you…” vernon mumbled
“you have nothing to worry about, you fit right in”
he closed his eyes and smiled at how you got along so well especially, with his sister. his sister taught him a lot of things about relationships and how to guide through them instead of being a rock and hes glad that he sees the results of her coaching paying off
sure, maybe she’ll steal you from him but he couldnt blame her, if he were someone else he’d want to steal you too
so this week will be long for him, but vernon would wait ages if that mean he could see you spend time with his sister
-
BONUS : pouty clingy vernon
after 3 days in new york, which were just 3 days of his sister hogging you. you had came back to vernons house to see a pouty vernon laying in bed
you slowly approached him just incase you were seeing things but nope, the pout was very visible (maybe to you only but who cares)
when vernon saw you he held his arms out to which you filled in the space allowing him to hug you
“ive missed you today” he mumbled against your hair
“you have?”
“yeah my sister has been taking you for these 3 days when its suppose to be a you and me getaway
im glad youre getting along with my family, especially my sister but does she really need to take you 24/7?”
“maybe?” you smiled
vernon rolled his eyes playfully and looked down at you
“so whatd you and her do today?”
“ah!” you said pulling out some bags
“we went to brunch, then went to this pop up store” you explained pulling out the bags and each item
and s you explained, vernon watched smiling, but not at what you got but you. he enjoyed seeing the look and smile on your face as you explained your day with his sister, even if he was sulking 5 minutes ago he enjoys seeing you happy.
even if its for the reason hes sulky
“tomorrow you wanna go out with me? i have some things to show you” he asked smiling after you finished your haul
“yeah of-“
just then sofia opened the door
“yn do you want to go out with me tomorrow-“
“NO”
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sytoran · 6 months
Text
home is where the heart is ★ n.r
— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇
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in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)
pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader
chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).
warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting
word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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*****
In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.
After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.
“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.
“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 
“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.
Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 
The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.
“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.
Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.
“Oy, lovebirds!”
At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.
Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 
Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.
“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.
“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 
Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.
“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 
Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 
Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”
Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 
“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —
And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 
The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.
A quiet hush falls. 
Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.
“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”
*****
As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 
Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 
“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 
“Yeah! I’m ready!”
Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.
Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 
Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?
“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.
You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 
When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.
Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.
“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”
“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”
“There goes my heterosexuality.”
You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.
“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 
You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.
But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.
“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 
It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.
“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”
Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.
Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.
Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.
“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.
“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.
The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.
“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 
You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.
“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.
You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.
“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 
The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.
“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.
Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.
It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.
Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 
Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.
“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.
You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.
Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 
“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”
Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.
You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.
Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”
Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.
*****
“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.
You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”
Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.
Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.
As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.
You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.
As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  
The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 
Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.
You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.
“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.
“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.
“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.
You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 
“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 
“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 
Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.
In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.
“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.
“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.
In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—
“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 
But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.
You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)
“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.
“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.
“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.
Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 
*****
Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 
And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.
You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.
Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.
“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 
“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.
The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 
The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.
“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.
Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.
“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.
“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.
You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.
“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.
Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.
“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.
“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.
“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 
Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.
It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.
Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 
Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.
You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.
Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.
Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 
With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.
“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”
Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.
“Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”
“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”
*****
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and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!
reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part
SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST
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1K notes · View notes
sturniqlo · 10 days
Text
Pretty Girl- M.S
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summary: where matt slides into singer!y/ns dms not knowing she would respond back, and it leads into something more.
cw: cursing, FLUFF; sweet messages, first meeting, honeymoon stage, kissing, ANGST(very little); second thoughts on relationship(?), past relationship issues, insecurity of not being good enough, social media hate
an: i just love fics where reader is a famous singer :) | very fast paced timeline | as usual, not proofread
masterlist | join my taglist
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"said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be."- bed chem, s.c
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matthew.sturniolo 12:47am
hi, you're like really pretty :)
Matt exits out of the dm and scrolls on tiktok for the remainder of the night. He shuts off his phone completely forgetting about the message he had sent to Y/n. There was no way she would respond. Y/n was a famous singer with millions of more followers than him. He had been following her for sometime now, as he had discovered a song- many songs- he really likes from her. Matt also saw his big of a fan Nick was, which introduced him to his favorite songs.
Y/n was currently in New York finding some inspiration from her upcoming album. Usually she resides in LA but she loves being in New York while she writes. It's more homey to her, it was fall after all, her favorite season, the leaves were turning orange and falling off of their branches, landing on sidewalks all over the city, the weather was chillier, she loved it. Back in LA it was many degrees hotter, she couldn't wear her cute cardigans without sweating.
The next morning, Matt woke up to a loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was very close to his room. Groggily he came out of his room and saw his brothers arguing. "I hid the last bagel for a reason because I was going to fucking eat it this morning." Nick angrily crumples up the empty bag the bagel was in. "How was I supposed to know?" Chris argues back, taking a bite of the bagel.
"Do you guys mind? I was sleeping peacefully and I got woken up to you two arguing over a fucking bagel." Matt scoffs. He goes back into his room and shuts the door. He rolls his eyes and walks over to his bed where his phone is laying. As it turns on, he sees a instagram notification. Unlocking it with his face id, he sees Y/n replied to his message. "Holy-" He cuts himself off.
y/n/y/l/n 2:47pm
thank you! you're cute yourself ;)
sorry for the late response it was 3 am when you dmed me haha!
Matt stared at the message opened message with his mouth slightly open. you're cute yourself? He was about to faint. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard thinking about what he was going to say next.
matthew.sturniolo 11:49am
holy shit you actually responded... also thank you :))
sounds like you're three hours ahead of me??
y/n/y/l/n 2:50pm
hahaha
i believe so. i'm currently in new york, i'm assuming you're in the west coast? la possibly?
She responded quickly and Matt's heartbeat only got quicker.
Y/n had spent her morning bright and early. She woke up at around seven am and did her morning which consisted of her morning shower, skincare routine. She ate a bowl of strawberries and blueberries while she answered some emails. About an hour after sending emails and responding to important messages she went out for breakfast.
At her favorite cafe, she ordered her usual bagel and iced coffee and sat down by the window. She ate her breakfast and stared out the window watching people walk by going about their morning. A few fans spotted her as she was leaving so she took some pictures with them. "Excuse me, Y/n?" A soft shy voice said as she exited the bagel shop. She looked back and saw two teenage girls nervously smiling.
"Hey, guys!" She gasped, letting her wired headphones hang. "Hi, we- we uh. Sorry I'm so nervous." Y/n smiled. "Don't be nervous. I promise you it's okay." She giggled and walked closed to them. "Okay, thank you." The one girl sighed in relief. The three of them made a ten minute long conversation. "We're so sorry for taking your time!" One of them gasps realizing how long they've been talking for. "Don't worry about it, it's okay."
Y/n returned to her apartment at around twelve and cleaned up a bit. She'd been in New York for about two weeks now. She took a quick shower and chilled on her phone for a bit. Here and there she liked to go through her instagram dms and respond to some fans. As she was scrolling through, she saw that Matt has dmed her. Y/n has known about the triplets for sometime now, she has watched a couple of their youtube video. And to be honest, Matt had caught her eye those couple of times.
She blushed, she opened the dm and read the message fully. It was sent about eleven hours ago. She responded anyways and she was bold enough to send a second message. Exiting out quickly and scrolled and responded back to some fans who just wanted to say hi or wanted some advice.
Two minutes later, a notification from Matt appeared at the top of her screen. She smiled and opened it right away responding quickly, Matt responded seconds later.
matthew.sturniolo
i am
also, new york? i bet it's beautiful out there now that it's fall time
y/n/y/l/n
it's really is! have you ever been out here?
matthew.sturniolo
yeah, a couple of times actually!
are you there permanently?
y/n/y/l/n
nope, just here to get some writing done :))
matthew.sturniolo
new music im assuming?
y/n/y/l/n
can't say tooo much but yess
Over the few weeks, the two messaged each other everyday and eventually exchanged numbers. As much as Matt wanted to tell his brothers. He wanted to keep his 'relationship' with her hidden for a while and be in this little bubble. Matt really enjoyed messaging her and talking with her on the phone that he asked her if she would be up to the idea of talking romantically and see where it would lead them to. Obviously she said yes.
Y/n had never felt like this, Matt was amazing to say the least and she hasn't even met him. Every morning when she would wake up, a good morning message from Matt would be waiting for her. He'd send her little messages throughout the day when he wasn't filming and he calls her when he knows she's about to go to bed. Yeah, she's had her boyfriends here and there but they were nothing like Matt.
Her past relationships were so public from the beginning to the end they almost felt forced. Anytime they would go out there was always a new article and new pictures about it. There were rumors, allegations, and opinions. And she never dated the best people.
matt
hi pretty girl :)
y/n
hi pretty boyyy
matt
are you busy?
y/n
for you? neverrr
matt
okay, i'm calling you now!
Before Y/n could even type out a response her phone rang in her hands with Matt's contact filling her screen. She immediately answered. "Hi Matt." She put him on speaker. "Hi, pretty lady. How's the writing going?" He asks her. "It's.. going. I can't really think of anything right now, so I'm taking a break." Y/n brings her knees up to her chest and scoots her writing book away from her.
"Anyways, what have you been up to?" She says, pressing the facetime button. He answers it right away. "Nothing much, me and my brothers just finished filming a video." He brings his face into view. "Sounds fun, what'd you guys film?" She smiles. "Just a car video talking about random things."
They talked more for some time until someone interrupted Matt's rant by barging into his room. "And then- do you not know how to knock?" He scolded whoever came in. "Who are you talking to?" She heard Nicks voice. "Don't worry about it, what do you want." Matt huffs. Y/n noticed how he tilts his phone away from Nicks view. "Can you take me to-" Matt cuts him off.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you. Shoo now." He motions his hand for Nick to leave so he can keep talking to Y/n. A small giggle leaves Y/n and Matt looks at her through the phone and she gasps. Nick must've heard her because he also gasps. "Matt! Are you talking to a girl?" His phone is suddenly snatched from his grip.
Nick looks at the screen and Y/n is with wide eyes and a slight open mouth due to her being shocked of what's happening. Y/n knew that Matt wanted to keep this to himself, as well as her. "Oh.. my god." Nick said and quickly gave the phone back to Matt when he saw who it was. Y/n heard Matt's door close and started laughing, so did Matt. "Holy fuck."
"I'm going to let you go, I need to deal with Nick. I'll call you later." He smiled and waved at her. "Okay, let me know how it goes." She waved back.
"Nick?" Matt walks out of his room. "You, as in Matthew Sturniolo, my triplet brother, are talking to the Y/n. As in the famous singer. Fucking Grammy award winning Y/n!" Nick yelled with his eyes wide open. Y/n was probably- no, is- Nicks favorite artist. He couldn't belive it. "Yes, Nick. Is that so hard to believe?" Matt giggles. "Motherfucker yes! How did you of all people bag her?!" "I'm offended?" Matt furrowed his eyebrows.
Matt goes to tell Nick how everything had happened. "Oh my god, I can't believe this!" Nick yelled into his hands. "What's going on?" Chris comes up his set of stairs. "You'll never believe it!" Nick says. Matt- actually Nick- catches Chris up with everything he missed. "Matt, I've never realized how much game you have."
After everyone - Nick- calmed down, they decided to sit and watch a show.
y/n
i'm assuming everything went well?
matt
yes, nick had a moment of starstruckness i guess, but it went well in general
y/n
omgg, he is so me
will he be okay with me following him?"
matt
pls do, i would kill to see his reaction
y/n
okok
Y/n giggled as she went to her instagram and searched up Nicks username and followed him. Across the country, Matt was secretly recording Nick who was unintentionally scrolling on instagram. "No fucking way! She- she just followed me." Nick flipped his phone to Matt. "She just followed me too!" Chris jumped up from his spot on the couch.
matt
*video attachment*
chris was a plus
y/n
hahaha
one month later
"Alright, we have this shirt with these jeans or," Y/n holds up a potential outfit and shows Matt over facetime. "Ok, I like that one." He nods. "There's also this dress." She holds up the material. "That's the one. I like that one." Matt points and she giggles. "Okay." She leaves the frame and comes back in once she's changed into her outfit.
"It's four over in LA right? I still get a bit confused over timezones." She says as she applies her eyeliner. "Yeah, and it's seven for you, correct?" Matt watches intently as she does he makeup. "Mhm, I have to leave in like forty minutes." Tonight she was going to an album release party for her friend, Conan.
"I would love to be in your timezone. Makes it easier to talk to you." Y/n smiles at an idea that popped up in her head. "Would you -I don't know- maybe want to fly out here? I- you don't have to, but it's just an idea." She rambles a bit. "I'd love to actually. But, I'd have to talk to my brothers first, not that I need their approval or anything, just I'm not sure if they'd want to come." He says.
"You could bring them too. It'd be fun either way." She says. As much as Matt loves traveling with his brothers, he'd appreciate it if this trip was just about the two of them. It's be their first meeting after all. "I hope this plans out well, I really want to meet you, officially."
"I'm tryin' to go to New York." Matt blurts out randomly. He had finished his call with Y/n about two hours ago and all he thought about was possibly getting to meet Y/n and spend sometime with her. "Matt flying across the country for a girl? Who would've thought." Chris says. "Shut up." Matt rolls his eyes. "Do you guys want to go? Or?" He says.
Both Nick and Chris looks at each other and shake their head. As much as Nick wanted to go and possibly meet Y/n, he wanted Matt to have his moment. "Nah, we'll let you enjoy your time with her." Nick says and Matt dramatically sighs in relief. "Thank god! I didn't want to take you guys anyways." Nick gasped. "You know what, i'm second thought." Matt shook his head. "Nope, you made up your mind."
matt
guess who's going to new york :D
y/n
no wayy?!? i'm so excited!!!
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liked by sabrinacarpenter, clairo, matthew.sturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo and 825,733 others
y/n/y/l/n: i am new york, new york is me
view all 9,372 comments
jennaortega: y/n in new york>>>
| y/n/y/l/n: you get it 🙂‍↕️
y/nfan57: it's y/n's season
y/nfan19: matt liked...
| loser4: okay? so did nick?
sadiesink_: you're so cool
matthew.sturniolo: you
| y/n/y/l/n: me
two weeks later
"I'm by the taxi pickup." Y/n said on the phone to Matt who was somewhere inside the airport. "Is there a sign or something?" Matt was having a hard time looking for the right place. "Uhm... oh yeah, there's a bright green sign that says taxi only. It's pretty big so you can't really miss it." She let out a breathy laugh. "I see it, and I see you." Y/n turned, but still couldn't see him. "Other way, pretty girl." She turned the opposite way and saw him.
"Matt!" She squealed, and ran to him as he dragged his suitcase behind with a huge smile on his face. "Y/n!" He let go of his suitcase and she jumped in his arms. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're actually here!" She whispered into his neck. "I can't believe it either." He says and she pulls away from his neck at looks at him. "You're even prettier in person." She blushes. "Stop it! I could say the same thing about you." She places her feet back on the ground. "How was your flight?" She asks. "It was good, except for the guy snoring next to me."
They arrived at Matt's hotel, and he settled in before going out for lunch together. "Okay, my favorite spot to get lunch is here." She says and Matt opens the door for her. "Thank you, Matt." Matt smiles. For the three- almost four hours they've been together, it all felt natural, as if they've known each other for years.
"What do you usually get?" He puts his arm around her shoulders and she smiles at the action. "I usually get the chicken wrap and a mango lemonade." She looks up at him. "I'll get the same." He nods and kisses her forehead. See, natural.
"What do you think?" Y/n covers her mouth as she speaks through a mouthful of her wrap. "It's very good, you weren't lying." Matt says as he goes in for another bite.
For the rest of the day, they walked around the city hand in hand, Matt pointing out at certain billboards in time square.
Later that night, they returned to Matt's hotel where Y/n said goodnight and went home. But, not without a kiss. A first kiss. "I hope you had fun today." She says as she walks towards the door. "Trust me I did. Thank you for today." He says, following behind her. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Matt." Y/n smiles. "For sure." He unhesitatingly grabs her jaw and plants his lips on hers with a gentle kiss.
The room was soon filled with the soft smacking sounds of their lips intertwining with each others. Soon enough her arms ended up wrapped around his neck, with her back against the door and Matt's arms holding her hips. A couple of moments later, they both pulled back gasping for air. "Wow, I- mmph!" Matt was cut off by Y/n putting her lips back on his.
"Okay, I should- I should go now." Y/n pulls away and giggles. Both of them out of breath and their lips red and swollen. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."
The next day, the two of them went out for breakfast and were especially giddy the whole day, sharing kisses, holding hands and small touches. "So, this one is- Matt?" Y/n stops herself. "Yeah, yup. Mhm." He says. "You weren't paying attention were you?" He breaks out in a laugh and shakes his head. "Sorry, but you're just really fucking pretty." Her cheeks redden up by the compliment.
"Matt!" He grabs her chin and kisses her. "Okay, I'll listen this time, for real."
It was now eight pm and Matt's hand was wrapped around her shoulders as usual. As they walked in a comfortable silence, Y/n heard a series of whispers behind them. Her first reaction was to look back, and as she did she saw a flash of a phone.
"Oh my god." Y/n mutters under her breath. "C'mon Matt, let's go." She grabs onto his arm and leads him to the opposite way of the stranger. Matt had noticed the person taking the picture as he also turned his head a little bit after Y/n did and saw how her mood had changed.
"Hey, you okay? You've been pretty quiet." Y/n stands in front of Matt once they've entered her apartment, moving bits of his hair that covers his eyes. "Mhm." He hums. "Matt, you can talk to me. Is it what happened with the person who took the picture?" Matt looked away from her. She had gotten it right. "Matt," She sighs, pouting slightly. "I- are you having second thoughts about this? I just- I don't know." He says. "Hey, no, of course not! It's just- I really like this little bubble we're in right now, with no unwanted opinions." She pauses before continuing on.
"And I know I shouldn't care about what people say about us or anything, but it gets to me sometimes. With my past relationships I feel like the media got involved so much that it ruined them, and- and I don't want that to happen with us. I really like you" She interlocks their hands together. "I really like you too." He gives her a soft smile before pulling her in for a kiss. "Are you okay now? Did I clear something's up." He nods. "Yes, thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate it."
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Y/n was right, the internet does have a lot of opinions. After Matt had left Y/n's apartment, even though she had told him to stay, Matt did it nightly call to his brothers before going to bed. When he had woken up in the morning, he went on social media and saw tiktok about the picture and another picture that they didn't know of and and there were many negative comments about his and Y/n's relationship. Specifically about him.
y/nsoulmate: broo... how is she going to go from dating a famous singer/actor to a youtuber💀
soulmatey/n: she should get someone better
ilivefory/n: dare i say it, but she downgraded
slutniolo: why is he dating her? isn't she on her tenth relationship?
y/nismygf: y/n, matt, if you're seeing this just know twitter is rooting and happy for you guys! tiktok police is annoying!!!!!
y/nismommy: he isn't it for her 🤷
prettyy/n: he could never treat her like danny did.. oop
ang3ly/n: y/n, baby, leave b4 u can, he's just going to use u🥴
everythingy/n: not a youtuber
y/nsgirl: why is everyone being so negative? this isn't your guys' relationship to judge or comment on. get a job, get a life!
Although the last comment made him chuckles a bit, the other comments hurt him. Were they right? Yeah, he wasn't on her level of famousness, but was it such a big deal? His phone suddenly rang in his hold as he was too deep in his thoughts. It was a call from Nick. He answered. "Good morning sunshine!" Nick said. "Why are you up so early? Isn't it six am over there?" Matt says. "I haven't slept actually. It's kind of worrying me." Nick laughed as he got comfy on his bed.
"I saw the pictures. How're you guys feeling about it?" Great, something he didn't want to think about right now. "I don't know? She wasn't the happiest when she caught that one person taking a picture, but she gave me her reasons and it was understandable. I didn't realize it at first, but she was totally right. The internet can be harsh, holy shit." Nick furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Matt sighed and got up to sit against his headboard.
"I saw a video and the comments were a bunch of people saying that she shouldn't be with me because i'm not on her level of success, I guess, and that she also downgraded. I mean, what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough for her?" Nick felt bad, he hated that the internet was making Matt have second thoughts about his developing relationship. "Don't listen to them Matt, they're just a bunch of losers. And, you are more than enough for her. I was called her earlier today, yesterday I guess, and she was so excited to tell me what she had planned for you two. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now." Nick reassured him.
As Matt got ready, he thought of what Nick had said. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now. He was right, he is in deep. Matt knew Y/n was going back to LA a week after he was. They'd have all the time in the world to hang out. However, he wanted to be hers.
He was going to ask her today.
"Hi, pretty girl." He kissed forehead once she let him in. "Hi, how was your morning." She closed and locked the door behind him. "It was good, how about yours." They walked into her bedroom so she could continue getting ready for the day. "I had an early morning." She sighs. "I had a last minute meeting, luckily it was short and over zoom." She wraps her arms around Matt. "Hi." Y/n whispers. "Hi." He giggles and she leans up to kiss him.
"Okay- shit!" Matt stumbles a bit to the side with the bike. It was a couple of hours later and Y/n and Matt decided to rent bikes and bike around the city for a bit before heading to their planned picnic Y/n really liked to go to. "Why is it so heavy?" He says, trying to put the bike up straight. "They're so heavy for no reason, the amount of times I've fallen to the side with it is ridiculous." She starts to peddle slowly, waiting for Matt to catch up. A folded blanket is held by the basket that is on the bike.
"Are you sure you can ride the bike and carry the picnic basket at the same time?" She asks him. "I'm sure, just can't go too fast or I'll bust my shit." They rode around for thirty minutes sight seeing before heading to the park. "This looks like a nice spot." Matt pointed out an empty spot near a tree. "Okay, I'll lay out the blanket." Y/n unfolded the blanket and carefully placed it down on the grass.
"So, you're going to be in LA a week after I go back, right?" Matt says as he sips on his water bottle Y/n had packed. "Mhm, the twenty fifth. We'll finally be in the same place permanently. I'd love to hangout more with you." She smiles at him. "About that, I actually had a question for you." He caps his water and places it down next to him, moving his body to face her. "Oh, okay."
"Can I be yours, pretty girl? Officially yours." She gasps lightly and breaks into a huge smile. "You were always mine, pretty boy."
945 notes · View notes
joelsmochi · 1 year
Text
Dirty Lies
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SUMMARY: Joel realized how much you matured since he last saw you 4 years ago and can’t resist you. WARNINGS: age gap [reader is 22, joel is 35], smut minors dni, no descriptions of reader aside from having shoulder length hair & having a girly sense of fashion, pervy!joel, shy-ish!joel, needy!joel, reader seduces joel. 18+ WARNINGS: infidelity if you squint (technicalities people), brief objectification, masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, reader was a lying little shit in high school but it paid off WC: 7.3k [please read author's note]
A/N: this was originally going to be a 15k word long smut as part of my LDR series, but........ I figured the more parts I can make out of it the more content I can produce, so here is part one of Us Against The World. Enjoy :) Edit: I’m rereading this and noticing a few typos, I apologize about those! Grammarly isn’t so helpful sometimes…
series masterlist | main masterlist
There you were in your blue tank top and yoga pants laying with your father’s dog in the middle of the front yard. You had just returned from New York a few days earlier from college, which your father amicably told Joel about over a few beers the week before.
Joel was expecting to see your 18-year-old self: long hair, sparkly eyeshadow, dressed in your late mother’s hand-me-downs from the 80s. But that was no longer you.
You dressed more modern and age-appropriate. Your hair was shorter, looked curlier, and you had highlights. Your eyebrows were thinner and your face was free from the loud makeup your teenage self was accustomed to. Joel would make jokes from time to time about how he believed you were just born with glitter all over your eyes.
Joel felt a little silly thinking you wouldn’t have changed. Who doesn’t make a drastic change when they leave high school? He hadn’t found the time to stop by and say hello but he wasn’t necessarily rushing it.
He’d met your father when you guys moved in next door in 1993 and he remembered you introduced yourself the second you saw him and Sarah playing outside despite your father’s protests.
You told Joel about how your dad was only being grumpy because he’d just turned thirty-six. Something about getting old. You didn’t bother to retain that information.
But here you were: all grown up. It reminded Joel of the day he overheard you and your best friend talking about how handsome you thought he was. He wondered if you still felt that way.
You sat up, feeling the sense that someone was watching you; your eyes scanned around until instinct made you look to the same window Joel was standing in.
For some reason, he didn’t feel embarrassed about being caught staring. He offered you an energetic smile and you took in his appearance.
He hadn’t changed much — his hair was a little longer and he had a few more fine lines across his face, but he was still the handsome man you remembered and admired.
You stand up and walk over to the window prompting him to open it.
“Hey, creep,” you teased with a big grin, “how ya been?”
Even your voice sounded different with its blend of Texas and New York. It was sultry with a hint of confidence. He tried not to let his weaknesses show.
“I’m doing all right… Sorry for starin’. Could hardly tell that was you,” he responded.
You just barely saw his eyes glance down to your chest, and it made you smirk.
Had this been any other man you’d have your fist meeting their jaw, but it wasn’t any other man. It was Joel. You hadn’t forgotten that he was attractive, but you did forget just how attractive. Or maybe his sexiness came with his age.
Not like it mattered anyways. It wasn’t like you could make a move.
“I been gettin’ that a lot… Dad tells me you’re a contractor now with Tommy.”
Joel nodded and said, “Yep, hated workin’ for other people, so…”
You were unsure if you were being awkward or if it was just… Awkward.
“Cool. Yeah, no, I get that. How is Tommy, by the way? Is he still really cute?” You giggled.
This made Joel roll his eyes. “Not cuter than me,” he answered begrudgingly. You watched how his eyes faltered again, trailing from your lips to your belly ring. “Your dad let you get that?”
You scoffed and waved your hand lazily as if you were swatting his condescending tone away. “One, Dad can’t tell me what to do with my body. And two, Tommy was always the cuter one.”
“S’that so?” Joel grunted as if he were tempted to laugh.
You gave him a cunning look and nodded. “Yeah. But you were always more handsome.”
Joel found himself blushing at the compliment, trying to wipe the redness away with his calloused palm to no avail.
You let out a quiet teetering laugh and looked back to make sure your dog was okay for a moment. “He get that dog after I left?”
Joel focused on you again and confirmed it once he noticed the dog again. “Yeah. I think your dad likes having something to take care of.”
You looked back into Joel’s eyes and bathed in them for a moment. He seemed more like himself, more certain of who he was. It made you a little sad to know how much time has passed, but maybe it was better this way.
“He was always like that. I think it started after… Well, you know.” You took a deep breath and tried to change the subject. “How’s Sarah? She still my little rockstar?”
“She’s more of a pop star, now,” he said. “She still wears that bracelet you let her have, the… The silver one.”
Your chest swelled with joy and you couldn’t contain your excitement. “Really?! Aw, man, that’s so cool. I remember I would throw a fit if I didn’t have that damn thing on.” The dog barking grabbed your attention once again. He was just barking at the mailman but settled once the worker started petting him. “Sorry!” You shouted before returning your focus to Joel. “Well, Joel it was nice seeing you. We should… Catch up. I could use some… Life advice.”
“I’m free tomorrow night if that works?” He tried to contain his excitement.
You slowly backed away, giving him one more nod and smile. “Perfect. Just come over whenever like old times.”
Joel decided to be respectful enough to not ogle over your ass as you walked away. He turned away from the window wondering how the hell he was going to get over this… Crush?
Is that what this was? A crush?
He decided to not torture himself with his intrusive thoughts.
“Hey, kid,” Joel greeted. You rolled your eyes at the nickname but greeted him back. He entered the backyard slowly trying to get a feel for the mood. He sat next to you in the extra papasan chair and snatched your beer out of your hands. You glared at him, unable to hold it for long when he shot you that infamous smile. “Everything all right?”
He tasted your strawberry chapstick around the rim of the glass and let the taste linger on his tongue. His eyes fell to your lips as he thought about how the chapstick would taste coming straight from you. Raw and unfiltered.
You held your breath, wishing you had enough courage to ask your father these questions. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust your father, you just wanted an opinion from an outside perspective. You were hoping Joel wasn’t as inclined to protect or embarrass you as much as your dad.
“There’s this guy I’ve been dating for a few months now… I…” You sigh frustratedly with the tension surrounding the question meanwhile Joel grew tense and jealous? He asked himself why that was the way he felt about you having a boyfriend.
You apprehensively said, “We had sex a few times before I left and it wasn’t…good.”
“Okay?” Joel asked as a way to tell you to keep going.
“How should I go about telling a guy that?”
He cleared his throat uncertain of how to answer your question. He didn’t want his newly discovered feelings to cloud his judgment as the chances of you two becoming a thing were slim to none. He wouldn’t want to sabotage you or your relationships. Especially when you trusted him enough to ask such a burdening question.
Joel accepted the awkwardness of the topic and put it aside. He didn’t want you to feel embarrassed. “Well, have you tried suggesting things that he can do to make you—it feel good?” He asked.
“Yeah, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s me,” you admitted.
“Does he do the things you ask him to?”
“Kinda?” Your cheeks flushed and your eyebrows furrowed tightly.
He gave you a look that said come on now.
“He like… Does half of it?” You could just die of embarrassment right now.
“Wh—? How does he do half of it?”
You groaned obnoxiously and chugged some more beer. “I don’t know?! He does what I ask for like five minutes and then just does what he’s used to I guess.” He watched you poke your bottom lip out to pout as you stared into the glass bottle. “I really like him, Joel.”
“Does he like you?”
“Well, yeah,” you said as if it were obvious. “Fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He inhaled sharply through his teeth and stole your beer bottle again. “All I will say is that a man that truly likes you would try harder, especially during sex, and especially if you’ve told him how he could make you feel good.”
“So… What do I do?”
“Do you think he likes you?” He asked again. “Think about it for a second. What does he do for you?”
“Well, he…” Your voice trailed off into silence as your mind went blank. Surely this guy did something for you to make you like him, right? But anything that did happen to come to mind was the bare minimum. You didn’t want to give Joel the satisfaction, so you said, “I think it could work.”
“Who’re trying to convince? Me or yourself?” He saw the frustration on your face and propped a finger below your chin to make you look at him. “If a guy really likes you, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have to ask more than once,” was all he said after he took a sip of your beer.
“What do you mean?”
Joel’s sigh almost sounded irritated. “I mean… A guy that truly likes you and deserves you won’t make you suffer through sex. A real man’ll take care a’you.”
“A real man, huh?” You bantered.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Like you?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“Do you like me?”
Why the fuck did I ask him that?! You thought as soon as the words left your mouth.
Joel didn’t couldn’t answer right away. His voice just stumbled over his tongue and out of his mouth.
“I think you’re a sweet girl,” he finally said, “and you’re smart enough to know who’s worthy of your time and attention. Doesn’t sound like it’s him.”
You couldn’t defeat the growing smirk on your face as he fought the urge to look over your body. He wasn’t so good at hiding it.
You turned your body in the chair slightly and dauntingly lifted your leg to touch your bare toes against his calf. You watched his breath get caught in his throat and your mouth fell open in awe at how easy it was to get him riled up.
He looked at the ground, not moving a single inch of his body. He was overwhelmed by your confidence.
The amount of attention Joel’s given you in the last ten minutes already seemed to surpass the attention your “boyfriend” (can you even call him that?) had given you.
Your foot trailed up Joel’s leg before you rested it upon his knee; Joel’s eyes screwed shut as if he were praying to not get caught like this, but your voice brought his gaze back to you.
“You didn’t answer my question, Joel,” you whispered seductively. Your foot left his leg and you got on your knees in the chair, then you leaned forward, hands around the rim of his own seat, and leaned in devilishly close to his face. “Do you like me?”
He swallowed hard, his fingertips turning white as they pressed into the bottle.
His lack of an answer caused an impatience to grow inside you. You leaned in even closer and strengthened your eye contact with him. Your fingers absentmindedly trailed over his knee to the midpoint of his clad thigh.
His spine shivered and his arms grew goosebumps. “Why don’t you have this attitude with your boyfriend?” He asked lowly in a poor attempt to further evade answering you.
You snickered and looked over his beer-covered lips, craving to taste them. “If I’m being honest he’s technically not my boyfriend… You’re tellin’ me things about men and how they should act. It’s making me feel like… He just can’t handle me.”
He smirked at you, fighting the way his body pleaded to touch yours. “If that’s the case then, sweetheart, I don’t think he’s the one for you.”
“Oh?” You got even closer, your nose touched his and you heard him choke on his breath. “Do you think you could handle me?”
He chuckled rashly and straightened his posture, now sensing you tense up. “I could,” he confidently confessed. “But this ain’t right, sweetheart.”
“Please,” you scoff, “you can’t keep your eyes off of me.”
“If you keep actin’ like a spoiled brat you won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”
“Maybe that’s what I want,” you retorted, a cocky essence in your eyes.
“That so?”
“Maybe you can show me how a real man should be taking care of me.”
Joel had to stop himself from speaking as it would have potentially led to consequences. His flustered cheeks and wide lustful eyes created a hunger you’d never felt before.
However, you wanted Joel to earn it. Push him to the point of begging for just a taste of you. You needed to know if he craved you. Something you longed for from other men that just could not deliver.
You hovered your agape lips over his so dangerously it tickled his nerves. You gave him a soft kiss on the cheek then sat back in your original position.
Joel was both relieved and disappointed with the kiss. Relieved it didn’t end up with his head buried between your thighs, and at the same time disappointed that it didn’t.
For the next few days, you settled into your room as best as you could and got everything how you wanted it to be. Well, almost. You wanted a shelf to go over your closet so that you could display your most prized possessions.
When the idea sparked in your head you remembered that your dad said he was going to be gone for most of the day. You figured you could hold off for one more day. That was until you heard some power tools and heavy grunting from beyond your window.
Joel.
Joel had followed your lead as best as he could and you had to admit that the lack of physical contact was making it harder to resist him.
You felt a bit strange, however. After all, this is Joel. Sweet, caring, next-door neighbor Joel. You and your friends had a crush on him and his brother, Tommy, sure, but this wasn’t that. And you surely weren’t a child anymore. But still, you couldn’t help but think of how strange the dynamic is.
It wasn’t enough to stop you from taking your sweatpants off and changing out of your t-shirt into a stretchy tank top. You poked your head out of your window and shouted Joel’s name a few times until you successfully got his attention.
“Hey!” You said with a proud smile.
“Hey, kid!” He shouted back.
“Can you build a shelf for me? I wanted to get my room done today, but my old man’s gone!”
“Right now?” He tried to seem indifferent.
You just smiled harder and motioned for him to come over. “Please?!”
He huffed and looked at his half-done project, ultimately deciding to help you instead. The sooner he helps you the sooner he could create distance, he figured. Though deep down he knew that wasn’t the real reason.
You patter downstairs to unlock the door for him. He could see from the corners of his eyes that you were half naked, only in white panties and your top.
“Couldn’t a’put pants on?” He asked grumpily as he walked past you, not giving you the satisfaction of staring. You shut and lock the door before guiding him upstairs.
“Yeah, but I figured since you were doing the job for free I could at least give you something to look at,” you flirted. He didn’t even bother trying to stop you.
“What d’ya need done exactly?” He asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“I want those shelves to hang over my closet right… Here. I have a power drill here already, I just couldn’t figure out how to get it.”
He was doing a decent job at keeping his eyes anywhere but on your body, but in his mind he had already taken your clothes off and fucked you against the wall.
“S’alright, I can get it for ya,” he said while giving you an earnest look.
“What?” You asked after a moment of silence.
“Nothing,” he answered with a shrug and a smirk. You lightly smack his arm and plop down on your bed.
You lay on your stomach and flipped through a fashion magazine, occasionally smelling some of the perfume samples. You snuck glances at Joel’s broad back as he made sure everything could be lined up, smiling to yourself at how efficiently he worked.
“How’s your boyfriend?” Joel randomly asked after about ten minutes. You looked at him through your eyelashes as he peaked over his shoulder. 
You stifled your laugh and began looking at the magazine again before answering him. “He actually ended things with me two days ago. But like I said, he technically wasn’t my boyfriend. He never asked.”
“Oh… You doing okay? Seemed like you really liked him.”
“I like someone else more,” was all you said. Joel took a second, then just nodded even though you weren’t looking at him anymore.
“This someone have a name?” He asked after a few more moments of silence.
Joel’s internal conflict was teetering between giving in and giving up. He wasn’t sure why he was so drawn to you, but that’s what fueled his filthy thoughts even more.
“Yep, he sure does.”
Your tone was the exact opposite of what you were feeling. You felt hot and desperate, but you (almost) fooled him by sounding bored. He didn’t want to give into your childish game of beating around the bush, so he kept his mouth shut and began hammering a nail into the wall.
Suddenly you had an idea. An awfully sinister one.
You tossed the magazine on your nightstand and sat up in the bed, leaning into a few pillows and angling yourself so that Joel could get the perfect view if he dared to look.
Your hands traced uneven lines and patterns over your clad breasts and you gasped softly at your nipples perking up quickly. He couldn’t hear you over his hammering.
You rid yourself of your wet panties, kicking them to the edge of the bed. You spread your legs and began working big and slow circles over your sensitive clit. You used your free hand to pinch your nipple over your shirt, the combination of stimuli making you give a more audible moan.
Joel didn’t think much of it at first — he figured you were moving around on the bed to get more comfortable. So when the next moan came and he stopped his work to look at you he was taken aback, to say the least.
He said your name, but you shook your head in protest. “Is this okay?” You asked, innocence spreading across your face.
He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe.
“Joel?” You snapped him out of his daze. “S’this okay?”
He nodded and watched your trembling hands dip down into your glistening slit, collecting your wetness and coating it over your clit. Your body was stiff with anticipation, watching him watch you.
He took in all of your beauty like the way your eyes fluttered halfway shut and how you bit your plump lip to quiet your mewls. One hand cupped your breast so gently and the other rubbing steady, taunting circles over your sensitive bud. He watched the way you pleased yourself and let this picture of you engrave itself into his memory.
One day, Joel thought, I’d be able to make her feel as good as she makes herself feel.
He ignored the hardening of his cock pressing against his jeans, not caring enough to touch himself if it meant he didn’t get to feel you. He found the situation quite sexy and the lack of physical contact made him feel good.
You were showing him that he didn’t need to touch you or talk to you. He didn’t need to do a damn thing. All he needed to do was stand there and let you look at him.
Your moans were quiet and soft, barely heard by him. You squeezed your nipple harshly and jolted at the shock of electricity it sent throughout your body, your eyes screwing shut and your legs curling up into an almost fetal position at the feeling.
He saw you swallow the lump in your throat as you looked into his eyes again, soon scanning over his body and imagining how he would feel on top of you. The imagination was more than enough to get you going.
You imagined he felt strong and heavy above you, trapping you with his burly arms and using his lean thighs to keep your legs open for him as he rolled his hips to meet yours.
You absentmindedly curled your middle and ring finger into your creamy pussy, chasing after the feeling of being stretched out by Joel. Your pussy effortlessly squelched as your discharge poured out of you like a waterfall, coating your plump ass cheeks in your juices.
You got a bit louder but remained mindful of the open windows just a few feet away. You watched the movement in his jeans from his cock that twitched, longing for just some fucking relief. But he didn’t move, he didn’t even adjust his pants. He wanted you to know that you were the one in charge and that he was willing to suffer just for you.
“Joel,” you breathed out in between helpless murmurs.
He almost caved at how sweetly you said his name like you were asking for help. You reached even further into your sex, pressing into your sweet spot carefully. You pretended it was him.
Allowing your eyes to shut and your mouth to open, your mind dove deeper into the fantasies of Joel. You imagined him fucking you slowly, steady enough to not make your bed squeak too loud. Your fingers followed your mind, bumping against your g-spot the same way you wanted him to: carefully, yet forceful.
Joel felt awkward just standing there watching you, but you looked so beautiful. Sprawled out just for him with your fingers dipping into your sopping cunt as if you were made just for him. He saw your shoulders twitch and a hiss escaped your lips.
A ripple of ecstasy shocked your nerves, your walls tighten around your fingers, and your clit tensed up with a tickling sensation.
Your face twisted from the overwhelming feeling that began to encapsulate you from your core to your mind. Your moans became shallow and louder. Your clit throbbing beneath your palm motivated your to work your fingers faster. You fucked yourself with more desire than you had before, still twisting your perky nipple between your other fingers.
You were a lot more gentle with yourself than Joel would have expected. You took your time, didn’t overwhelm yourself.
He knew he loved it when the ever-growing pressure inside of you burst into a million flames throughout your trembling body. He saw that the slower you were with yourself the more intense the orgasm was.
He accidentally groaned at the sight of you: clinging to your bedsheet with the very hand that toyed with your breast, eyes refusing to open from the immense pleasure soaring through your veins, curling up into a ball because your body couldn’t comprehend just how good you were feeling.
He noticed how your cum gushed around and below your fingers creating a wet spot on your blanket. He carefully watched as you opened your eyes, still slowly fingering yourself. You continued to feel your orgasm, exploring how much of it you could endure.
You moved your free hand to your clit and rubbed tiny and fast circles around it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you refused to moan anything but his name.
You shoved your fingers deep inside of you to press against your g-spot relentlessly. Your toes curled at the mix of pleasure.
You knew your orgasm was coming back more powerful than before already, and you braced yourself when your walls flexed against your fingers basically forcing them out; you chewed hard on your lip and laid your stiff fingers flat against your clit to rub from side to side at the arrival of your squirt. You squealed behind your swollen lip and let your squirt splash everywhere.
Joel palmed his rock-hard cock for some relief as he watched in awe at how you came for him. You looked so fucking delicious soaking yourself in your juices. His heart punched against his chest and his mind nearly blank, only filled with you.
Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you eased up on your clit. You let out sweet hums of bliss and you opened your eyes again, carefully analyzing his body language.
He practically reeked of inferiority. He was your marionette, your toy, whatever you wanted him to be. He didn’t recognize you in the best way possible. You were an unwrapped present that he couldn’t wait to open and play with. Your confidence grew at his puppy eyes that were low and dark, filled with a need to serve you.
Your fingers collected some of the creamy nectar between your folds before you brought it to your mouth and darted your wet tongue out to taste it.
You never broke eye contact once, observing how his body shuddered at the filthy action. His breath was heavy, his chest heaved in anticipation. You stuck your fingers inside of your mouth moaning at the salty goodness coating every single taste bud.
It wasn’t until your fingers dropped back down to your side and you gave him a shit-eating grin that he finally looked away, sighing loudly.
He felt ashamed of himself.
He’d known you since you were a child.
How could he ever look you in the eye again?
How could he ever look your father in the eye again?
You slipped your panties on again while he wasn’t looking and just grabbed your magazine, flipping through the pages again like nothing ever happened though the wet spot on your bed clearly said otherwise.
When Joel saw you had returned to your previous activities he did the same. Drilling and hammering your shelves onto the wall like nothing fucking happened.
“Here you go sir, you have a lovely day,” you chirped at the customer as you handed him his food waiting until he left. You turned around to straighten up the counter behind you when the bell on the door jingled. “Hello, give me just one moment and I’ll be with you!”
You gave the counter a lazy wipe with the wet washcloth before tossing it into the sink nearby and turning around, being met with a smirking Joel.
“My, my, you working at a burger joint? Never thought I’d see the day,” he teased.
You made a face and told him to shut up. You tried not to notice the sheer layer of sweat that coated his partially exposed chest. “What can I get you, sir?”
His face contorted with arrogance and he placed a hand over his chest. “Sir? You callin’ me sir now? Oh, you are just too cute.”
With a roll of your eyes, you huffed out a stream of air, waiting for him to stop fucking with you.
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, dropping the act. “Can I get a burger and some fries?”
“You don’t want a drink?” You asked before writing his order down quickly and sliding it through the kitchen window.
“Are you tryin’a make me tip you more?”
You shrugged. “Nah, it’s just that the cola here is really good.”
“Mmm,” he hummed as if he didn’t believe you.
“If you want a cola I’ll make it extra cold for you,” you whispered as if you were telling him a dirty secret.
“Mhm, okay. Fine, I’ll take your word for it. Gon’ and get it f’me then.”
“You can ask that a little nicer,” you scoffed. You walked off, breathing in a gust of smoke on your way to the soda machine. “F’here or to-go?!” You shouted.
“Mm, I was gonna get it to go, but I think I’ll stay and keep you company.”
You could just hear the smile in his voice.
“Awe, how thoughtful of you,” you bantered before rinsing out a clean cup and filling it with ice. The cook called out the order was ready and you thanked him before finishing up with Joel’s drink. You grabbed the tray and walked over to the end of the counter where the stools sat, setting the food in front of Joel with a weak smile.
He watched you closely as you leaned onto your elbows waiting for him to try his food.
“What r’ya doing workin’ in a restaurant? Didn’t you graduate for like… Fashion or some shit?” Joel asked, unable to keep his smile down at how pretty you looked in your uniform: a teal skirt and a mustard yellow shirt, but so, so tacky. You hated the fucking outfit, it was everything you would never wear, but Joel thought you made it look good.
“I did,” you confirmed, “but I wanted a humbling job before I truly entered the world of fashion.”
Joel’s thick and somewhat dirty fingers unraveled his greasy burger after he dumped the fries out chaotically. He took an unnecessarily big bite, not seeing how your eyes watched the trail of juice trickle down the corner of his mouth to his chin before he swept it set with his thumb.
“Humbling, hmm?” He questioned before swallowing his barely chewed bite. “You’re a wise girl, you know?”
“So I’ve been told,” you smugly replied. You stole a fry off of his tray and smiled at his frowning face while eating it before washing it down with his fizzling soda. “Best drink that ‘fore it goes flat.”
You walked away momentarily to help a customer that just walked in; she only wanted a dollar milkshake so you told her not to worry about paying. You took a dollar and some change from your tip pocket and put it in the register before grabbing a styrofoam cup and packing her cup.
Joel noticed halfway through you making the shake that whenever you tapped the bottom of the cup against the counter your breast jiggled against your arm. He felt the lady nearby staring at him so he turned his head just enough to see the mix of disgust and concern on her face.
If only she knew how filthy you were for him just last week…
He didn’t care enough to stop though, he just went back to looking at how your clothes hugged your body.
You finished up her shake and popped a lid on it before grabbing a straw and walking back to give it to her.
Joel heard the lady ask if you were okay, and he promptly rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and tried his best to not laugh. You were confused by her question, simply nodding your head and saying, “Yeah?”
She looked at Joel once more, choosing not to say another word before leaving.
“Fuck was that about?” You asked, watching her walk away.
“She saw me starin’ at your tits,” he said between obnoxious bites. “If only she saw—“
Your eyes widened. “Do not finish that sentence.”
“Whatever you say, doll,” he teased before taking another bite.
You pretended to be grossed out by seeing the chewed-up food in his mouth as he spoke, swatting his hand gently. “You’re so gross.”
“You love me,” he quipped with a simper. He took a sip of his drink, humming at how refreshing it felt. “This is good,” he told you.
“Told ya.”
“What time are you out?”
You looked at the door when your manager came in, apologizing for taking longer than she expected.
“You’re fine, it’s a slow day,” you told her as she walked to her office. You looked at Joel and slammed your book and pen on the counter near the register. “I’m out now. Why?”
“Your dad asked me to pick you up.”
You felt a rush of worry. “Why? Is he okay?”
“Yeah, honey, everything’s fine. He forgot about pickin’ you up today and got drunk with his buddies and called me—well, he called Tommy. Said he wouldn’t be back home ‘til tomorrow.”
You raised an eyebrow at the mention of his brother’s name. “Oh? Well, why isn’t Tommy here?” You strutted around the counter and stood next to Joel as he inhaled the last of his food.
“Think you know why,” he grunted.
Anxiety pang inside of your chest, but you convinced yourself it was excitement. You were hoping that he wanted to get you alone somewhere and fuck you into the next week.
But you didn’t want to seem desperate. You kept a straight face, waiting for your boss to come back out before getting your things and punching out.
You followed Joel to his Chevy and thanked him when he opened the door for you. He huffed when by the time he got inside the car himself you were already flipping through his book of CDs.
“I got a good one in already—“
“Is it The Writing’s On the Wall by Destiny’s Child?” You interrupted after you found said CD.
“No, b—“
“Then it’s not what I want to listen to.”
Joel endured your (arguably bad) singing for the ten-minute ride back to your house. He thought about a few things in that ten minutes:
-Sarah wasn’t home, so he didn’t need to worry about food (or getting caught), so this time was optimal to make a move on you.
-If he were to make a move on you, then you two wouldn’t get caught.
-If he were to make a move on you, how exactly would he do it?
Once he arrived in his driveway, you both stepped out of the car and he walked over to your side.
“You not working tonight?” You asked.
“No, we finished early.”
You looked at him with lush eyes and bit the inside of your mouth, a flirty smile coaxing your lips. He looked hopeful for something, anything.
“I was just gonna watch TV all night,” you started, “and maybe make some dinner. I know you just ate, but you and Sarah are welcome to come over.”
“Sarah’s at a friend’s tonight, doing some studying,” he answered. His voice trailed off as if he weren’t finished speaking his thought aloud, but you picked up where he reluctantly left off.
“Do you want to come over, then? Just you?”
He looked around the quiet neighborhood as if he had to think about what he wanted. “Uh, yeah, sure.”
You lead him to your house, kicking your shoes off at the door and he followed. He felt unsure of his decision. He wondered if this night would play out platonically and just be filled with conversation and dinner, or if this was truly the beginning of a secret he’d have to keep forever.
“Spaghetti okay?” You asked him once you both entered the kitchen, decorated with oranges and reds, and yellows, reminiscent of your late mother. You tossed your half apron on the island before making your way to the refrigerator.
You heard his feet patter on the linoleum quickly but before you could turn around on your own Joel did it, pinning your back against the refrigerator and knocking down some of the bottles inside of it.
You gasped when his fingers peacock over the outsides of your thighs, gripping at the hem as a means to pace himself.
His eyes were bright yet lustful as his proximity alone sucked the air out of your lungs. Your chests heaving against each other’s created the only other physical contact you had with him.
He then dropped to his knees before you got the chance to speak; his calloused hands rose beneath your skirt, hiking it up enough for him to pull your wet panties down to your ankles. You stepped out of them for him and he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder before meeting his mouth to your clit tongue first.
You moaned at how he just dove into it, not bothering with kissing or easing you into it. Your digits laced through his messy curls while his tongue coated itself in your juices.
His tongue did crazy laps around your clit and he smacked a couple of firm kisses in between his licks. You tried to watch his work but your stupid fucking skirt was in the way. You settled, however when his eyes opened, the only visible part of him from your view.
You tasted so good to him, he tasted your day of work mixed in with your salty precum and he couldn’t get enough of it. He moaned when you tugged at his hair, burying his face as deep as he could and closing his eyes.
You let out a stream of obscenities while using your calf to push into his back, afraid that if you didn’t hold on tight enough he’d vanish.
He wrote out his full name over your clit like he was casting a spell that anything you or someone else touched you there you would only think about him.
You were amazed at how good he was eating you out — you didn’t think he’d be bad. You just didn’t know it could feel this good. It was like you felt him touching and kissing and licking all over your body, swimming in an endless pool of dissolution.
His touch was decadent through remembering how careful you were with yourself. He wanted to cater to you and to make you feel as good as you made yourself. And on top of that, he just really wanted to eat your pussy.
Savor it.
Taste it.
Drink you until you fucking ran dry and begged him to stop.
Nothing could have torn his lips away from your pussy. Hell, someone could have walked in and he’d still keep going.
“Joel,” you gasped, throwing your head back and grinding on his face.
He loudly moaned, tightening his grip around your thighs and wagging his head furiously from side to side to provide more stimulation.
Your hips bucked into his face roughly and you screeched, pulling even tighter on his hair.
“Joel, oh—fu-fuck!”
He smirked and pulled at the skirt to unveil his eyes again. His dick angered in his jeans, but he ignored it. He’d much rather focus on the way you writhed from his touch. Your panting growing heavier fueled his already intense movements. He began to suck while still shaking his head earning another screech from you.
You never felt out of control with how loud you were before. Every motion sent a million shockwaves throughout your body. You always did a good job at keeping quiet enough so that the neighbors wouldn’t hear, but fucking hell was Joel the one to break that evergreen streak.
You felt his hot breath collide with the fluids coating your sex and his nails leave indents on your flesh.
His tongue darted out to collect a stream of your cum, but his nose butted against your clit as he continued shaking his head making your hips buck once more. Then he realized… He got to stimulate your sensitive bud and lick between your folds.
He loved it.
Your moans became more distressed and uneven; he felt you chasing that high. He wanted you to cum so fucking badly. To let all of your pent-up cum pour over him.
You held the back of his head gently and he angled it just right enough for you to ride his face.
“Use my fucking face,” he moaned loud enough between your legs for you to hear. “Use my fucking face to cum.”
Your body gave in finally at his hoarse voice; your hops sped up, still using his nose and lips to overstimulate yourself. The orgasm was forceful, your moans strident.
Joel felt a pool of your cum leak out and drip down his chin onto his neck. He watched you crumble and curl into him and he was attentive enough to hold you steady while your balance dissipated.
Your head was dizzy and your vision blurred. You slowly halted your movements and just stood there being held by him while he placed light, but loving kisses along your dripping cunt.
He finally pulled his face out from underneath your skirt and carefully put your leg down before standing. He tucked some loose hairs back or behind your ears, then caressed your cheek and gave you a peck.
You wiped some of your cum off of his wet chin with your thumb and held it up to his mouth which he gladly sucked on. He grinned at you afterward and fixed your skirt for you.
The silence was soothing because frankly, neither of you knew what to say. It left you speechless, but that could just be the aftereffect of your climax.
The night was beginning to close in sooner than either of you wanted it to. You two just talked, truly catching up on the past four years. He was a lot funnier than you remembered, your cheeks were aching from how much he was making you laugh.
"You are a real gentleman, Joel Miller. What can I say? Dinner and an orgasm?!"
He lifted you up from your spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap so that you were straddling him. "I don't have to be," he murmured against your lips. His fingers flexed into your feverish skin, holding you upright and close by. He chased you with his lips until you finally let him kiss you. "Be honest with me... Did you really think I was handsome in high school?"
Your face grew warm and you hid behind your hands in embarrassment. "Oh, my God."
"Why are you actin' all shy now?"
"Because you weren’t supposed to know about that."
"Know about what exactly?"
You crossed your arms, deciding to let him win this time. "You want details?"
He smirked and leaned back to get more comfortable.
"Well... I used to lie and tell my friends that we fucked," you admitted.
"Really?" Despite his surprise the smirk never left his face. If anything it grew wider.
You sheepishly nodded. "I used to tell them how good you were. Everything you would do to me."
"What would I do to you?" His cock was already throbbing against his jeans, and just like every other time, he ignored it.
"You would fuck me up against the wall," you explained. "Sometimes, you would bend me over the edge of the bed and spank me for being naughty. Or just 'cause you felt like it. I'd even tell them about how you played with my ass so gently because you didn't want to hurt me."
Every word went straight to his dick, making it jerk and prod your thigh.
"Maybe I do need to bend you over and spank you for all that lyin' you were doin'. Your friends probably think I'm some creep now," he said; his tone wasn’t scolding or cold. He sounded thirsty for more of you. Like his throat had already run dry despite how much of you he drank earlier.
"I'd tell them the truth, but if I were to do that now then I'd be lying again," you whispered against his lips.
"We certainly cannot have you spreadin' no more dirty lies, now. Can we?"
-
Read Part 2 here.
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primaviva · 1 year
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HUGS N’ KISSES
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PAIRING: miles g. morales x fem!reader
SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend, miles, invites you over to his place since his moms not home and he can finally have the door shut. but one teasing comment you made later and suddenly he’s asleep in your arms as you smother him in tender kisses. is he really tho?
WARNINGS/NOTES: pure fluff, one suggestive joke? heavily coded latina reader w implied curly hair, miles being petty, that’s all !!
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“translations:” ¿qué onda? = whats up, novio = boyfriend, relájate = relax, chuleto = used to refer to a fashionable/flirty boy or fboy, tonto = idiot, lo siento = i’m sorry, princesa = princess
after an exhausting heatwave, new york had been graced with a week of downpours and cool streets.
you hadn't recently seen your boyfriend. yes, you spoke to him in your classes and in the hallways when you saw him at school, but it had been some time since you had last seen him outside of the school building. he frequently claimed to be busy with whatever the hell it was. but you decided against pushing it. miles is loyal to you and has been through a lot, so you don't push him to tell you when he's busy or doing something else to fill the time. instead, you wait for him to open up.
currently, you found yourself comfortably sprawled on the couch in the living room. the morning's heavy downpour had gradually subsided as the afternoon arrived, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that cascaded down the windowpane. without any particular program capturing your attention, this day seemed to be a slow one you just had to follow the vibe of. as you idly absorbed the atmosphere, your eyes wandered to the television, where a journalist was discussing the prowler's recent involvement in a local drug bust.
exhaling a sigh, you contemplated switching off the tv and surrendering to another nap, when suddenly, a notification chimed on your phone. your gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the glow of your phone illuminated the surroundings.
it was a message from your man, miles.
mi novio : ¿qué onda, mami? i miss you 😩😩
you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your phone as you silently read the text. miles had a penchant for playfully teasing and maintaining a smooth facade, all in an attempt to fluster you.
you : relájate… we texted this morning and it was you who stopped replying
you : but ig i missed you too
you could almost picture the expression on his face at that moment. maybe a subtle smirk adorned his lips in response to your sassy reply or the mention of missing him. or maybe he even did a small pout, feeling defeated that you didn’t completely fold.
mi novio : ik you missed me
mi novio : you tryna come over?
as soon as you finished reading the last line of his message, a loud laugh escaped from your lips. once again, he was acting cocky. your mouth stretched into a soft smirk as you realized you couldn't pretend that you didn't like the way he acted. it didn’t help how bold he was asking for you to come over. now that’s when you knew something was up.
the supple fabric made contact with your skin as you took up your phone and sat back against the cushions, instantly soothing your muscles as you typed up a response.
me : come over and do what lil boy…
with a laugh, you rose from the couch and strolled toward your bedroom, mentally getting ready. it was a familiar routine, the satisfying dance of teasing and banter that defined your dynamic. deep down, you knew you would end up there regardless, but relishing in the opportunity to playfully toy with him was irresistible.
you put your phone down on your bed as you opened your closet and began to put an outfit together. you felt your phone ding as you jumped into your jeans and pressed the buttons together. picking your phone up, you glanced at the text message that flashed across the screen.
mi novio : girl you know not the start with me
mi novio : and don’t act like i’m on some freaking timing when you texted the prowler to stop by your window the other night, ma
a gasp escaped your lips, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness that surged through your body. your cheeks were so warm from the sudden boldness of his comments you swore you could feel the steam radiation off of them. you were well aware of his nature, but this time, he had truly caught you off guard with his little comeback.
your head quipped at the sudden notification that dinged your phone again.
mi novio : what’s wrong, you stopped typing? don’t get all shy on me now when you started it
mi novio : just come over and we’ll figure it out damn i jus wanna see you
despite your nervous state you couldn't help but smile warmly at what she said. miles isn’t always vulnerable but you loved the little crumbs you got when he spoke his mind. you could tell he really missed by just how much he was double texting, something he only does when he talks to you.
you : i'm comingg you can stop now 🫶
as you coated your hands with the product, carefully working it into a rich lather, a playful image of him rolling his eyes in response to your text crossed your mind. undeterred, you tenderly scrunched and massaged the product into your luscious locs. casting a final approving glance at your reflection in the mirror, you made sure your fit was good. with your headphones and house keys in hand, you slid into a jacket, being mindful of the weather. swiftly, you shot miles a text, letting him know you’d be there soon.
you took a deep breath as you stepped out of your house, the familiar door closing behind you with a soft click. the gray sky’s gentle glow kissed your skin, casting a dark hue upon your face. the sound of your footsteps created a comforting cadence as you strolled through the gloomy neighborhood. with each step you glanced at the dark shadows that had overtaken brooklyn throughout time.
within a short time, you found yourself on his block, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and let him know you were about to pull up. as you turned the corner, his apartment building came into view, and there he stood, positioned at the entrance, patiently awaiting your arrival. clad in an oversized black puffer jacket, he exuded a sense of warmth, his hands tucked protectively into the pockets for an extra layer of comfort in the outside weather. drawing nearer, his face gradually came into focus, revealing the cool, icy gaze that harmonized with his stoic demeanor. yet, behind the stoicism, a gentle smile graced his lips, radiating a tenderness that could not be concealed around you.
he let out a sigh as a cloudy mist escaped his soft lips. “hey baby,” miles whispered, his voice raspy almost as if he’s a bit tired as he moves closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close.
“hola chuleto,” you replied back, enamored by how gorgeous he looked in pale sunlight. you put your hand on his cheek and felt his supple skin beneath your fingertips. “so, can i get a kiss from my boyfriend now?”
before he responded, you prepared to start leaning up to kiss him but miles had playfully straightened his back and added to the distance between you two. you looked up shooting him an annoyed glare as a smirk painted his featuress.
“ah, mami. y’know i can’t resist you,” miles mumbled against your ear as he leaned back close to you and let out a small laugh.
he leans down and kisses you, both of his hands resting softly on your hips. he let out a satisfied hum as his lips met the warmth of your mouth. the feeling was something of ecstasy. he had missed you so much all he wanted to do was just be near you. his hand moves down to your lower back, pressing you against him. miles pulled back with a hum as he looked down at you with soft eyes as you gazed up at him through your wispy lashes. he pulled you into a hug as you both slowly rocked back and forth in each other's embrace.
as the chilly mist continued to linger in the air, miles gently pulled away from your embrace, his concern evident in his eyes. "hey, we should probably go inside the apartment building before we catch a cold," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of practicality. his words were accompanied by a warm smile, a gesture that conveyed both consideration and a desire to keep you safe.
nodding in agreement, you intertwined your fingers with his as a silent affirmation. miles opened the door to the lobby and guided you to the staircase as you began your descent up to his floor.
your kisses always had a way of melting his demeanor away into something much gentler, if your friends ever saw him this way they would barely recognize him.
as you reached the landing, miles fumbled for his keys, his hand briefly brushing against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit and mostly empty apartment.
“you hungry? cus’ i cooked if you want anything,” he mentioned from behind you as he locked the door.
"cooked too, huh? and here you are always tryna act all hard," you giggled. "no, i’m good but thank you"
it always was amusing to you how miles acted so differently than how he actually felt but at the same time it gave you butterflies that he had made something with you in mind. he really did have a soft spot for you.
miles shot you an annoyed glare at your words. he never liked being called out, did he?
“i’m not hard or whatever,” he mumbled as he reached behind you, his large hands going around your waist to pull you close behind him before removing your jacket and putting it on the coat rack.
miles turned, catching sight of the amused expression on your face. his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, prompting him to take a step closer, deliberately lowering himself to meet your eye level.
“yeah, i cook,” miles stated, licking his lips. “so i don’t know why you’re giggling at me. a man can’t show off his skills once in a while?”
before you could let out another laugh, miles had grabbed you by the hand and dragged you into his room.
“c’mon, let’s relax and watch a movie or somethin,’” he suggested as you both made your way inside and kicked your shoes off.
miles settled onto his bed, reaching for his laptop and powering it on. as the soft, ethereal glow of the screen bathed his face in a light blue hue, he started looking for fall movies.
"and what movie might that be?" you asked, your expression tinged with curiosity and skepticism.
"i wanna watch a scary movie, but you're too scared so i'm letting you choose. just no more romcom nonsense." miles pleads as he pats the space beside him.
"whatchu mean romcom nonsense?" you repeated in a mockingly hurt tone. "i don't wanna hear that from somebody that said jason x was heat…”
"oh? so we gon bring that into this,” miles groans as he lays back onto the couch, pulling you down gently so you're laying on top of him.
you looked up at him with yet another raised brow as a small pout formed onto his playful lips. "jason x was heat, you're jus’ too much of a hater.”
“yeah i am a hater, but because i love you imma refrain from clowning you for that false statement,” you playfully teased, feeling miles grab your shoulder and lean back, creating a comfortable space for you to rest against his chest. he smirked, and you could tell he was enjoying the banter.
miles sighs, "alright alright, i guess jason x wasn't the greatest...”
he shifted slightly, propping himself up to lean over your body, his gaze fixed on you with gentle intent. with a tender touch, he reached for the blanket, enveloping both of you in its warmth as he carefully draped it over your bodies.
“jason x sucked,” you spat out as miles began to tuck the blanket into your sides.
miles reclined once more, his arm finding its place on your shoulder, drawing you even closer to him. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
"you always smell good," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration, as he gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "is that the perfume i got you?"
a smile effortlessly spread across your lips at his question. the fact that he had noticed the fragrance you wore, especially since it was the dior one he had given you some time ago, filled you with a sense of excitement.
"could you really tell?" you asked, feeling a bit bashful.
he could sense the flustered effect his words had on you and responded with a sly smirk. as the remote made a satisfying click noise, miles finally selected a movie, capturing your attention. it was a satirical classic— a scary movie that promised both fright and laughter. "of course, i could tell," he quipped playfully, "the bag it came in made my room smell for weeks."
the sassy retort that was on the tip of your tongue dissolved into laughter, unable to resist the infectious humor he exuded. these were the things that made you appreciate his sarcasm even more, and more importantly, made you realize just how deeply you loved him.
miles smiled down at your laughing form, relishing in the pure joy that radiated from you. his fingers danced through your hair, a soothing gesture he often performed, as he loved these intimate moments you shared. planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head, he tightened his embrace, drawing you even closer as the movie commenced.
giggles escaped your lips as his hands continued to play with your hair, his gentle touch leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your scalp. as the movie progressed, your positions shifted, with miles essentially becoming your cozy human blanket, his body nestled on top of yours.
with one hand lightly caressing his scalp, you both remained engrossed in the film. however, you couldn't help but notice the subtle heaviness in his eyes. between funny scenes, instead of laughing he would slowly blink, accompanied by silent chuckles that escaped his lips.
"tired?" you ask softly, noticing his drowsiness.
he responds with a gentle "mmhm" and a light snore, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. despite his fatigue, it's evident that he finds complete comfort and trust in your presence. as he starts to drift off, his breathing becomes more relaxed, and his hold on you gradually weakens, revealing his vulnerability. in this moment, there's no facade of stoicism or toughness, just the authentic him.
as the movie reaches its conclusion, the blooper reel snaps you back to reality. you reach for your phone in the corner, curious about the time. your heart sinks as the bright text on the screen reveals it's already 9:30.
"my mom is gonna kill me," you whisper under your breath, a hint of worry in your voice.
turning to your boyfriend, who is sound asleep in the crook of your neck, your senses come alive as each gentle breath of his tickles your skin.
"miles?" you call out, trying to rouse him from his nap, but there's no response.
cautiously, you place your hands on miles' shoulders and gently shake him, hoping to wake him up. but of course, he remains deep in his sleep, undisturbed by your sad attempts.
out of desperation you continue to try, shaking him a bit more, but it seems miles is completely lost in dreamland, his snores filling the room. he shifts slightly, but remains peacefully asleep, holding onto your neck and cuddling you tighter.
this turns out to be the worst possible scenario for you. the impending lecture from your mom, the potential attack with a lanky shoe, the grounding— everything seems likely to happen. miles shifts once again, clinging to you, and you can't help but feel both exasperated and affectionate in this bittersweet moment.
"miles, please..." you silently pleaded, but as you looked down at his serene face, a wave of tenderness and adoration washed over you. he looked so peaceful and irresistibly cute, and a part of you hesitated to disrupt his slumber.
a defeated huff escaped your lips as you surrendered to the sight before you. his bottom lip slightly tucked under his top lip, his eyelashes resting gracefully against his cheeks, and the faint smile that graced his face as he dozed off—all of it captivated your attention. it was an irresistible combination, making his features appear kissable and utterly adorable. the soft snores he emitted only added to the charm.
unable to resist any longer, your desires took over. cupping his face gently, you leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. miles stirred slightly at the unexpected touch of your lips, but his response only made him look even more endearing as he leaned into your affection.
a smile played on your lips as you let go of any reserve, fluttering his face with multiple kisses. from his hairline to his cheek and jaw, your kisses were light and ethereal, filled with both gentleness and profound love for him. another kiss found its place on his nose, until the vibration of your phone interrupted the moment once again—your mom calling.
"damn, i really have to go," you muttered under your breath. summoning the courage, you slowly maneuvered miles off of you without disturbing his peace. gathering your belongings, you kneeled by his bed and pressed a gentle kiss on his scalp, one last show of affection before you run on home.
as you tried to move away, he unexpectedly grabbed your thigh, his grip leaving a faint imprint. with a laugh, you carefully pried his slender fingers off, savoring the sweet connection before leaving his side.
"goodnight, tonto," you whispered teasingly, ready to make your exit.
just as you were about to close the door, you heard miles mumble something under his breath.
"goodnight, ma."
he had been awake the entire time.
in an instant, it was as if you were hit with a flashback, remembering how you used to mock miles for his tough and stoic demeanor. was this his way of playfully getting back at you, by pretending to be a big baby?
"don't 'goodnight ma' me! you weren't even asleep this whole time?" you exclaimed, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over you. the kisses you had showered him with while he was awake suddenly felt awkward.
"oh, come on, don't be embarrassed. i'm sure we both enjoyed it," miles chuckled, sitting up and leaning against the bed frame. "yeah, i was just messing with you a bit. it was funny."
"yeah, i bet it was real funny," you retorted, crossing your arms and standing defiantly in the doorway. "you always play too much."
miles let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by the small pout that formed on your lips. he rose from his comfortable position on the bed and approached you.
"aww, is la princesa mad at me?" miles teased, leaning down to your height, playfully taunting you.
"oh, can't you tell?" you shot back.
as miles sluggishly smiled, he couldn't help but say, "but you're so easy to mess with."
"being easy to mess with doesn't mean you should actually do it! i thought you were asleep for real," you commented, moving closer to him. "lo siento, pero i have to go home before my mom skins me alive or something."
miles mumbled, "didn't deny that you enjoyed it, though," clearly trying to push your buttons.
and it worked.
"miles!" you called out, your irritation evident in your voice.
"you're cute when you get all angry, you know that?" he continued to tease, his words meant to playfully provoke you.
as much as you wanted to maintain your anger, you couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. you were still annoyed with him and his antics, but there was no denying the underlying affection he had that melted your heart.
he goes in for a hug, sighing softly as he kisses your cheek while embracing you. "alright, mami, go home before her anger starts to grow and she starts getting the chancla," he teases, but there's a hint of wistfulness in his expression as you prepare to leave.
you laugh at his joke. "don't manifest that for me!" you reply, worry in your voice as you slip on your sweater. miles walks you to the door, still holding onto your arm.
"no promises," miles jokes back. when you reach your front door, he keeps his grip on your arm and smiles. "i had a lot of fun today." he glances down briefly, his cheeks turning a shade of red.
"yeah, today was nice," you reply, returning his smile.
he doesn't say anything in response, instead emitting a soft hum. you turn to face him and smirk as you notice miles leaning in.
however, you interrupt his attempted kiss with a finger, playfully reminding him of his prank. "should i tho?"
"aww, come on, i'll make it up to you," he pouts, looking down. "please?" miles appears genuinely sad, and it becomes clear that you won't be able to keep up your annoyed facade for much longer.
frowning, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. you rise up on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.
miles' eyes light up in surprise as you kiss him. after a moment, he kisses you back, and the kiss lingers on. eventually, miles breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed and a smile on his face.
he looks at you, his expression hopeful. "are you not as mad at me now? did i make it up to you?"
"hmm, i'm not as mean as you, so i guess you're forgiven or whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully as you step outside, ready to start your journey home.
"so dramatic," miles chuckles, watching you walk away. however, he stops you at the door, a mischievous grin on his face. "hold up, did you see how red your face got?" he pokes your cheek and teases, "i didn't know you got that flustered." miles continues to poke your cheeks while smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you a little too much.
you give miles a deadpan look as he laughs at your reaction, not quite amused by his amusement.
miles kisses your cheek once more as you walk out, and calls out to you, "be safe and remember to text me when you get home!"
you hoped too that you’d be safe.
what awaited you at home, however, was pure hell. your mom sent you straight to your room after a heated argument that you wisely chose not to escalate. the interrogation that followed only added to your annoyance. you were definitely in trouble.
as you changed into your pajamas, you settled near your window and observed the serene scene outside. the orange and green hues of the falling leaves gracefully descended from the slender trees, landing softly into puddles. it was a tranquil moment, and you found solace in witnessing the slow descent of the fall beauty.
suddenly, a notification from your phone interrupts the peaceful atmosphere. it's from miles.
mi novio : i miss you already mami…
with a sense of contentment, you let out a loud giggle and swiftly reached for your phone to respond to miles. despite the trouble you’re now in with your mom, at this moment, it feels like a small price to pay for spending time with your boyfriend.
art from crittlyworm on tiktok
DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.
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berzahoes · 10 months
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moments | tom blyth
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summary: moments with tom and you <3 oh, and keanu reeves is also there! (reeves!reader)
an: nepo baby reader my beloved 🫶🏼
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ON SET OF BILLY THE KID
since your dad had a few weeks off, he decided to visit you and tom on the set of billy the kid, which was filming in canada. tom was nervous since this would be the first time your dad would see him act in person. you understood why since your dad was a big name in hollywood (and also named the nicest guy).
“he just texted, he’s here.” you told tom, who was in already in his billy the kid attire. you were hanging out in his trailer until he was called to set.
“is this really happening?” tom sighed. “keanu reeves is going to see me act . . . holy shit.”
“just pretend he’s not there or just relax. he loves you and he loves everything you’ve been in.” you stood up from the chair and walked over to him.
“apart from being a big actor, he’s your dad. what if he sees that i’m not good enough to be with you?”
“if he ever says anything like that, run. that’s not the real keanu reeves,” you replied and placed a kiss on his lips. “i’ll be right back, I’m going to go find him.”
“i have to be on set in two minutes. i’ll meet you guys over there.” tom said as you exited his trailer in search of your dad.
eventually, you found him talking to the stunt coordinator about, one of his favorite subjects, motorcycles.
“sorry to interrupt,” you apologized for cutting into their conversation.
“no worries, i better get going. it was really nice talking to you. thank you.” the stunt coordinator said as he walked away.
“tom said he’s going to meet us on set. they’re about to start filming.” you and your dad walked to where tom had told you to go.
“this is really nice. did you see that horse over there? beautiful horse. remember when you didn’t want to ride the horse on set of john wick?” keanu teased. you rolled your eyes playfully and kept walking to the set.
the scene tom would be filming was the opening scene of the whole show. your dad quickly made friends with the producers and director and sat by them when filming began. you watch your boyfriend get into character and deliver his lines perfectly. you didn’t know what it was, but you loved seeing him as billy the kid.
“cut! that was great, tom! we got it!” the director shouted. immediately your dad started applauding as loud as he could.
then tom joined you and your dad. “tom, that was amazing. you did an incredible job.” your dad complimented him.
“thank you, sir. it means a lot that you’re here.” tom replied. he still couldn’t believe keanu freaking reeves watched him act. you two have been together for quite a while so he didn’t have to be so nervous around your dad. but he was and hearing keanu say such kind words to him calmed him down.
“dad was talking about the horse.” you said, pointing to the horse that tom called his.
before you knew it, both of your guys were walking in the direction of the horse.
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LUNCH WITH THE FAMILY
it was a nice day out in new york city. before you dad started filming for his new movie, he wanted to have lunch with you, tom and his partner, alexandra. he picked out where you would have lunch and texted you the address. it wasn’t that far from tom’s apartment so you decided to walk.
“what do you think your dad is going to say about this?” tom asked, referring to his recently bleached blonde hair.
“i think he’ll like it. i like it, but i do miss the brown hair.” you admitted. soon enough, you made it to the restaurant. your dad had gotten an outside table so you easily spotted him and alexandra waiting for you and tom.
tom had a hat on so your had hadn’t noticed the blonde hair until tom took it off. alexandra gasped as keanu chuckled. “you look great, man.” he brought tom in for a hug.
“you do look great, tom.” alexandra agreed and stood up from her chair to greet you and tom.
“hi, sweetheart,” keanu said as he hugged you and kissed your cheek. “when are you going blonde?”
“never. i think the only time i ever dyed my hair was when i had a mental breakdown during seventh grade and dyed my hair red.” you said as you sat next to tom.
“she had me up at two am helping her rinse because she didn’t want to get dye on her fingers.” keanu continued.
“you had red hair? i need to see that.” tom chuckled.
eventually the paparazzi found you and they kept some distance, but they still annoyed you. you four took the opportunity to mess with them and posed with peace signs or funny faces. it reminded you of the times when you did the exact same thing years ago with your dad. whenever he took you out to eat, the paparazzi would arrive seconds later taking pictures of you two. keanu suggested making faces at the camera so you did just that. now, you were doing the same thing but with your boyfriend, dad and stepmom.
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KEANU REEVES, PROFESSIONAL THIRD WHEEL
“how’s the family?” stephen colbert asked. you dad was a guest and his show and he loved any chance he had to talk about you.
“family is doing really great, thanks for asking. i’ve spending a lot of time with my daughter. her and i are doing lots of activities like pottery, she loves pottery.” he explained.
“that’s great. and do you two always hang out when you’re not busy?” stephen asked.
“yeah, she sometimes has her friends over and i call her and ask if i could come over and then i take her friends and her to dinner or bowling.” he laughed as he remembered all the times he took your friends out so he could also spend time with you.
“i don’t know if you’re aware of this, but twitter has actually named you the professional third wheel because of these photos.” stephen showed keanu and the audience some paparazzi photos of you and tom walking hand in hand down the streets of new york and to the side was your dad with an ice cream cone in his hand.
“oh man, i mean it was going to happen,” keanu said. you and your dad actually had an agreement about what stuff he could share about when it came to being asked about you in interviews. “tom is a great guy, he’s the best.it looks like they’re annoyed with me, but I promise they’re not.” he laughed as another picture was shown of tom talking to him, but he was still holding your hand. whatever it was that tom and your dad were talking about, it seemed really interesting since they weren’t paying attention to you at all.
“oh no,” keanu hid his face in embarrassment. “she looks mad at me, i hope she wasn’t mad.”
“this is my favorite one yet.” stephen added as another picture came on screen.
the picture showed you on your phone walking while your dad and tom walked behind laughing hysterically at something that someone had said.
“are you sure i’m the third wheel?” keanu joked as the audience laughed.
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“is tom blyth single?”
the cast of the ballad of songbirds and snakes were doing the wired autocomplete interview and it was tom’s turn to answer questions.
“i am not. i have a beautiful, lovely wonderful girlfriend.” he answered with a smile.
“and his name is keanu reeves!” rachel added followed by josh laughing.
“the pictures don’t lie, tom!”
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onikasbarbie · 2 years
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missafricanbutter · 2 years
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Kali Uchis x Don Toliver 🖤.
[📸: Henry Hwu]
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shamirshalomtravels · 2 years
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Off night in everything Off-White🕊
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topguncortez · 4 months
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matt rempe with angst prompt “they’re lying to you” maybe she’s hughes sister and the boys don’t like her with a ranger player
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Loving the Enemy - Matt Rempe
hockey masterlist || g's graduation celebration
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synopsis: What was supposed to be an amazing night supporting her boyfriend's first NHL game, turns into a fight amongst siblings which leads to a broken heart. or in which Y/N Hughes is in love with the enemy.
word count: 4.5k
warnings: hockey inaccuracies, language, fighting, mentions of smut, break ups, angst
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Being a Hughes sibling wasn’t easy. Being the only girl Hughes sibling was even harder. It wasn’t necessarily that you were a surprise, but your parents didn’t think that they would have a little girl after having three boys in a row. But you were their prized possession, and they would never say it out loud, but you were the favorite child. 
You were close with all your brothers, being the youngest, they had been absolutely enthralled with you when you were born. Quinn had always been more than delighted to be an older sibling, and having a little sister was like getting ice cream before dinner. Jack was a bit indifferent towards you until you were about thirteen and he had accidentally body checked you during a scrimmage. He instantly expected tears, like had happened anytime he accidentally (or purposely) bodychecked you, but instead, you hopped back up and delivered a high stick to him about five minutes later. 
But out of the three Hughes brothers, it was Luke, who you were the closest with. Only 18 months apart, some people believed that you two were twins. Not only did you both get the curly hair, but you both got the height gene that somehow missed Quinn and Jack. The two of you were also the quiet ones of the family, choosing to stick together and out of the spotlight. Luke was the first one you told that you didn’t like hockey, and you were the first one who Luke told he wasn’t going to go to the draft right away. But it wasn’t just the verbal communication that you two had, it was the silent glances and head nods that were understood from across the room. 
And it was because of that bond, that Luke knew there was something you were hiding. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something off about you. He could hear you late at night talking and giggling with someone over the phone. You had been coming home late at night, using some excuse that you had been out with a friend or studying at a cafe. He even noticed that you were wearing a shirt he had never known you owned the other day. And right now, he knew that you were hiding away in your bedroom, which was uncharacteristically off for you. Usually you loved sitting on the beanbag, making fun of him, Jack, and Nico for playing NHL. 
“Why is he here?” You whispered, peeking through the crack in your door, which gave you the perfect view of the living room, “I thought they were going to his place. Why are they here!?” 
A low chuckle sounded out from behind you, making you turn your head towards the tall, muscular, still half naked man on your bed, “And this is funny to you? You realize if they see you here, you’re dead.” 
“You don’t think I can’t fight them? Jack is what. . . five nine?”
You rolled your eyes, closing your door softly and walking back to your bed, flopping down next to him, “Five eleven and he’ll get out the measuring tape if you even doubt it.” 
He instantly pulled your body into his, making you rest your hand on his peck, “So, you’re telling me you’ve never had a boy in your room before?” A shit eating grin arose on his cheeks, making heat flood yours, “Are you saying that I took your precious-” 
“Oh shut up, Rempe,” You shook your head with a giggle, “It’s not cause you’re a boy, it’s because you’re a fucking Ranger.” 
It wasn’t like you meant for it to happen. 
You were sworn enemies. Well, supposed to be sworn enemies. The rivalry between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers went farther back than you had been alive. The “cross river rivals”, just 10 miles away from each other. Though you hadn’t been a Devils fan until your brother Jack got drafted in 2019, and even then, you still kept somewhat mutual in your cheering for them. But when Luke got drafted three years later, you had sworn your allegiance to the team (even though you swore you would still put on a blue Canucks jersey to support Quinn. . . and even he knew that would only happen when the Canucks weren’t playing the Devils). 
You met Matt by accident. You had been leaving a coffee shop late after working on a research paper. Jack and Luke had told you over and over again to never go out walking in Jersey City alone at night by yourself. But you had never feared being out by yourself. There were plenty of times at UMich where you would leave the library by yourself and walk across campus to your dorm alone. Never had you felt terrified or in danger. But for some reason that night, you felt a shadow looming over your shoulder. 
You had just gathered your things, ready to step out the door and head for the subway, when a voice in your head told you not to go. Your eyes had darted around the shop, looking for someone who you could sit with or strike up a conversation long enough for you to text one of your brothers to come get you. The shop was basically vacant, and the barista behind the counter looked like she was waiting for you to leave so she could lock up. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed your backpack, placing your keys in between your fingers just in case. You had barely opened the door when someone placed their hand on your elbow. 
“Daphne? Oh my god, I thought it was you! How the hell have you been?” The man said to you. You could see it in his eyes he was begging for you to go along with it and there was something about him, that you knew you could trust him. 
“Kyle! Holy shit, where have you been!? It’s been what. . . four years?!” You said, overly excited. The barista from behind the counter cleared her throat, her eyes fleeting towards the clock behind her, “I was just about to hit up another spot, do you want to come with?” 
“I would love to, we have some catching up to do.” 
You felt a sigh of relief as you walked out of the coffee shop, the looming darkness fading away the further away you got, “Thank you for. . . that,” You muttered to him. 
“No problem,” He said back, “I’m Matt, by the way.” 
“Y/N,” You looked up at him, “I uh. . . I think I’m going to call an uber now or-” 
“I can take you. . . home. . .” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “God, I just saved you from one creep now you probably think I’m a fucking creep but I promise I just want to make sure you get home safe and I-” 
“It’s okay,” You giggled, cutting off his rambling, “I would like a ride home, if that’s not too much of a struggle. I trust you. . . even if I just met you.” 
You thought he was good looking before, but the smile that arose on his face amplified that by a thousand. His brown eyes were soft as he held his large calloused and slightly bruised hand out towards you, which you took without second thought. The two of you walked down the street towards a black BMW. You slid your backpack off your shoulder, and he gently took it from your hand, opening the door with his other. He jogged around the back of the car after tossing your backpack in the backseat. 
“Sorry if it smells like a gym in here, I usually hit up Blair’s after practice,” He explained, though there was no smell at all, probably due to the air fresheners he had hanging around his rearview mirror. 
“Smells like winter apple,” You said, reading the label, “What sport do you play?” 
Matt placed his hand on the back of your seat as he backed out of the parking space, and you hated how attractive that was, “Hockey.” A cough spluttered out of your lips as you choked on your own spit at his revelation, “What? Not a hockey fan?” He asked with a nervous chuckle. 
“Who do you play for?” You asked, ignoring his question. 
“Hartford Wolf Pack, but I got signed with the Ranges-” 
“Oh god,” You groaned, holding your face in your hands, “Of course, I was standing in Rangers’ territory.” 
Matt’s brown eyes glanced over at you before looking back at the road in front of him, “Well, I’m sorry,” He shifted in his seat, “Are you like an Islanders fan or something?” 
“Even worse,” You mumbled, “My hot knight in shining armor, turns out to be a Ranger, just my luck.” You sighed, “My brothers play for the Devils.” 
“Wait,” Matt stepped on the brakes, “Brothers? Plural? Are you related to the Hugheses?” 
“Those would be the ones.” 
Matt shook his head, a laugh falling from his lips, “Wow, really fucked up here didn’t we?” You couldn’t help but smile, “Well, Miss Hughes,” Matt said as he pulled up in front of the high rise apartment building, “Is it crossing enemy lines if I ask for your number?” 
You bit your bottom lip, trying to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “It is. . . but I’ve never been one to swear allegiance to just one place.” 
That night was six months ago, but for you it felt like it was just yesterday. There was a certain thrill about sneaking around with Matt, meeting when your brothers were gone or his roommates were out. You hated the rap he had developed in the AHL. He wasn’t the bad boy goonish hockey player with the fiery temper. He was a sweet, gentle giant, who loved to be the little spoon and have his hair played with. He sent you flowers and money to go get food cause he knew you forget to eat when you are in intense study sessions. Matt had become your everything in such a short amount of time, that you hated keeping him and your relationship from your family. 
It wasn’t that you wanted to keep your relationship a secret on purpose, but you both decided it was going to be the best for both sides. Matt was starting his second season with Hartford and then moving up to play for the Rangers in the Stadium Series. For you, Luke was starting his rookie season, and you were doing everything you can to remain lowkey and out of trouble for his sake. Mentioning that you not only had a boyfriend, but that said boyfriend was Matt Rempe. . . the whole house would be flipped on its side. 
“I have something to tell you,” Matt muttered, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. You loved the way that one of Matt’s hands could encase both of yours. You looked up into his soft brown eyes, that you swear resembled those of a baby cow, “The Rangers called. . . they want me to play in the Stadium Series.” 
You gasped in shock, climbing on top of Matt’s lap and grabbing his face in your hands, “They want you to play!? Matt! This is amazing!” 
A smile crawled across his lips, “Thank you,” You watched as a shadow of doubt and unease filled his eyes, “I want you there.” 
“I’ll be there,” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll be the loudest one there.” 
“Oh you better,” Matt said, one of his hands gliding up to rest on your ass, the other one tangling in your hair, “You know I love you, right.” 
“I love you too,” You smiled. Those three words would never fail to put a smile on your face. 
“Good,” Matt smirked, “Cause right now, I need you to be very, very quiet.” 
— — — 
You didn’t really think it through when you told Matt that you would be there for the Stadium Series game. Not only did you have to sneak past your brothers to take the train to MetLife, you had to also sneak past your parents. Being the youngest of three boys, your parents had perfected the craft of knowing when one of their kids was hiding something. 
“You sure you don’t want to come with us?” Luke asked, standing in the doorway of your room. 
“Positive,” You did your best trying to pretend you were sick, “My body just aches and my head hurts. I think I’m getting sick.” You hated lying to your brother. You hated lying to any of your brothers, but especially Luke. 
Luke frowned, “I hate that you’re missing this dinner.” Nico had decided to host a dinner for all the parents, friends and family that came into town to watch them play in yesterday’s stadium game. You also hated that you were missing spending time with your family, but it's Matt’s first game. You weren’t going to miss that for the world. 
“Can you bring me back some fries?” You asked meekly. 
“Of course, ducky,” Luke nodded, using the childhood nickname he gave you, “Text me if you need anything.” 
You waited until the front door closed, before climbing out of bed and getting dressed. You threw on a pair of black jeans and a white Rangers sweatshirt. You finished the outfit with a hat and your coat, hoping to conceal your identity amongst the crowd. The train ride to MetLife was short, and you followed the crowd into the stadium. Matt had done good with getting you a ticket, sitting you a few rows behind the Rangers bench. You had gotten there in time to see them warming up, Matt’s large frame skating around the ice with ease. 
It was as if he could sense that you were there, his brown eyes searching the stands until he found you. He sent you a small wave, which made your heart flutter as you returned the gesture. He looked extremely good in his white Rangers jersey and the eye black on his cheeks. You knew how important this game was to him, not only was it his first game, but it also fell on the anniversary of his dad’s death. You knew that all he wanted in the world was for his dad to see him play the sport they both loved. 
Within minutes of the puck dropping, the Rangers took control. You felt the familiar anxiety that you would get when watching your brothers take the ice, when Matt got off the bench. You clenched your fists tightly as the Rangers moved down the ice, skating flawlessly and making a goal. You stood up and cheered with the crowd as the goal horn went off, high fiving strangers and screaming in joy.
However the giddy feeling quickly went away, as you looked back towards the center, and saw your boyfriend in a fist fight. You knew he was a fighter at Hartford, and it wasn’t your favorite thing about his hockey game. He was a gifted player, with the height and reach other players would die for. You hated that the Wolfpack had set him up to be a goon within his first season there. 
You watched with bated breath as the refs let him and the Islanders player battle it out. Punches delivered from both players, until they finally came to a draw. You shook your head as Matt raised his arms, trying to get the crowd fired up as he skated towards the penalty box. His first NHL game and his first five minute penalty for fighting. 
As Matt sat down, taking the bag of ice from his trainer, he turned to scan the crowd, looking for you. He easily spotted you, standing out amongst the crowd as you gave him a look. 
“You okay?” You mouthed and Matt nodded, holding up his bruised hand. You playfully rolled your eyes, “Pay attention,” and pointed back to the game. Matt smirked, giving you a mock salute before turning back towards his team on the ice. 
When the game ended, in a Rangers victory, you left quickly. You wanted to stay and see Matt and hug him, but you knew that you would be cutting it close to when your brothers and parents would be back. You settled for sending him a text, and telling him you would come over as soon as you could to help celebrate with him. 
The apartment was dark when you arrived back, your siblings still out at the dinner with the team. You let out a sigh of relief, dashing back to your room and changing back into your pajamas. By the time you had settled down and turned on some cheesy romcom, the front door opened and the familiar sounds of your brothers and parents filtered into the apartment. 
“Ducky!” Luke shouted. 
“She’s probably sleeping, asshole,” Jack scolded him. 
“Don’t call your brother an asshole,” Your mom chided. 
“Ducky!” Luke called again, “I got you fries!” 
You giggled, pushing the covers back and going to greet your family. Their smiles were big and comforting as you sat down at the island, opening the to-go container of fries. Jack filled you in on everything you missed at dinner, your mother sitting behind you and playing with the ends of your hair like she used to do when you were younger. It felt like old times, the only person missing was Quinn. You knew he was doing great things out in Vancouver, but you missed having him around. The facetime calls weren’t enough. 
“So what did you do tonight, duck?” Your dad asked. 
“Oh uh,” You cleared your throat, “Just watched some movies and slept.” 
“You missed an exciting hockey game,” He said, “That Rempe kid is going to be a menace.” 
“Yeah,” You tried to hide the blush arising on your cheeks, “I’m gonna go back and lay down, still not feeling the best.” 
“Okay, sweetheart,” Your mom squeezed your shoulder, “We’ll see you in the morning.” 
You nodded your head, “Yeah, maybe we can go to that bakery on the corner-” 
“What the fuck were you doing at MetLife?” Luke’s cut you off. You looked at him, your heart thundering in your chest. 
“I-I wasn’t at M-MetLife,” You cursed your nervous stutter. 
“Bullshit,” Luke cursed, putting his phone on the counter, and clear as day there was a picture of you, in your white Rangers sweatshirt, sitting behind the bench, “I thought you were sick.” 
Tears began to cloud your eyes as you looked at your parents and then your brothers, “I’m sorry.” 
“Why did you lie, Y/N?” Your mom asked. And suddenly you felt like you were a child all over again, being scolded by your parents. You hated getting in trouble, you hated looking at your parents and seeing disappointment in their eyes. The only time you ever really cried was when you were in trouble. 
“I. . .” You huffed, “I went to watch Matt play in his first NHL game.” 
“Matt?” Luke asked, “. . . Matt fucking Rempe?” You nodded your head. You felt your mom shift behind you, her stance going into protective mode, “Why the fuck would you go watch Matt fucking Rempe play-” 
“Language, Luke,” Your mom spoke. 
“Because we are dating.” 
Silence spread across the kitchen for a moment, before laughter sounded out. A cruel sounding laughter as you looked at Luke. It was the fake sounding, teasing laughter that made you feel like a child. 
“No you’re not,” Luke shook his head, “There’s no way.” 
“Why?” You asked softly, “We’ve been together for six months.” 
“No,” Luke chuckled again, “You aren’t dating him. You are not dating a hockey player, let alone one that has more penalty minutes than time on the ice. You aren’t dating him, you might be fucking him-” 
“Luke!” 
“But you aren’t dating him.” 
You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks, “He loves me.” 
“Yeah and when did he say that? Before or after you fucked-” 
“Enough!” Your mom stood up, her hands on the counter, “Y/N, you shouldn’t have lied to us about going to the game. If you wanted to go to support Matt, that’s all you needed to say,” You nodded, looking down at the counter, “Luke, you do not get to say those things about your sister and her relationship. You do not get to say those things about any woman for that matter. Now, apologize.” 
You looked up at your brother, expecting to see remorse in his eyes, but all you saw was anger. Luke looked at you, before grabbing his phone and going to his room. You closed your eyes, feeling regret and guilt rising in your body. You mom put her hand on your shoulder, as a small sob left your lips. 
— — — 
It had been two weeks since your fight with Luke. Your parents had flown back to Michigan, leaving Jack to play the mediator between the two of you. Your mom had not so secretly texted Quinn to tell him what happened. He had called you the night after they left, which led to another tearful confession about your relationship with Matt. Quinn, being the big brother that he is, said he was upset that you felt like you couldn’t tell him about your relationship, but was nonetheless happy for you as long as you were happy. 
But you weren’t sure if you were happy. Luke had refused to talk to you, or even be near you. If you entered the same room he was in, he would leave. He wouldn’t fix you a plate of food like he usually did, or tell you when he was leaving for the arena for a home game. He wouldn’t even respond in the groupchat when you would ask him a question directly. 
But your strained relationship with Luke wasn’t the only relationship on the rocks. You hadn’t talked to Matt since the night of the stadium series. He had sent you countless text messages and left voicemails. He even went as far as sending flowers daily to the apartment, which Luke would toss out if you weren’t quick enough to grab them.
You were laying in your bed, half watching an episode of Bridgerton, like you had been for the past two weeks. Normally, you would be out in the living room with your brothers, but your bedroom felt like the only safe space in the entire apartment. You could hear the occasional shout or jest from your brothers as they were playing some video game on their night off. Beside you, on your bedside table, your phone buzzed for probably the tenth time this evening, another missed call from the same person. 
You weren’t sure what you were doing. You knew it was hurtful to string Matt along like this, but you also didn’t have the heart to break up with him. These past two weeks had felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest, and to even think about living a life without him in it hurt too much. 
You let out a slow breath as you closed your eyes, listening as the buzzing of your phone finally stopped. However, the loud sound of knocking pulled you from your moment of peace. 
“Did you order something?” Jack’s muffled voice sounded out. 
“No,” Luke said back. There was shuffling as the front door opened and the knocking ceased, “Oh you’re fucking kidding me. Why the hell are you here?” 
“Where’s Y/N?” Your heart sped up at the sound of the all too familiar voice. You quickly jumped up from your bed, opening your door and running to the living room. There in all his tall glory, stood the man you loved, “Y/N.” 
It felt like the air had been drawn back into your lungs as you looked at him, “Matt.” 
“I uh. . .I just needed to see that you were okay. You haven’t been answering my calls or my texts,” Matt scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at you and then your two brothers, “I’m gonna go now.” 
“Wait,” You said, taking a step forward, “Can I talk to you?” Matt nodded his head, looking like a lost puppy dog. You looked at your two brothers, “Can I talk to him alone?” 
“Yeah, c’mon Moose, we got game film to look at,” Jack said. Luke looked Matt up and down once, before letting him into the apartment and following his older brother down the hall towards the office room. 
You silently walked over to the couch, Matt following behind you. The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, before you broke the ice. 
“Do you love me?” 
Matt’s head snapped towards you, as your eyes looked straight ahead at the tv, “What?” 
“Do you love me?” You looked over at him, “Do you mean it when you say-” 
“Yes,” Matt answered quickly, “Yes, I do love you. I mean it every single time I say it. Why are you asking me this?” 
You shook your head, “Luke said something and I-” 
“He’s lying to you,” Matt moved from the couch to kneel down in front of you. He took your hands in his, “I love you, Y/N Hughes. I know we’ve only been together for six months but it’s been the happiest six months of my life. Not even hockey fills me with the joy as being with you does. So yes, I love you. I love you so fucking much.” 
You sniffled, tears falling from your eyes. Matt quickly wiped his thumb over your cheekbone, “I’m sorry. I. . . It all fell apart so quickly. Luke found out I lied and went to the game, and then he got so mad. I didn’t want to have to choose between-” 
“No, you shouldn’t have to choose,” Matt said, tears brimming his own eyes. He was silent for a moment, warring thoughts in his head as he thought of what to say, “It would absolutely break me to pieces, but I won’t be the reason why you and your siblings don’t talk anymore. I. . . I can’t do that to you.” 
“Are you breaking up with me?” You gasped. 
“I don’t want you and Luke to not talk to each other because of me.” 
“No,” You shook your head, “It will be okay, I promise. He’ll get over it.” 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Matt said, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, “I know your family means everything to you, and I can’t stand to be the one who ruins that. I’m so, so sorry,” Matt leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’ll always love you. No matter what. You are it for me.” You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his warmth, “Goodbye Y/N.” 
You sat there, unmoving as Matt stood up and walked towards the door. Your eyes fluttered open at the sounds of your brothers' footsteps, moving towards you.
“Are you happy?” You sneered at Luke, “He broke up with me.” 
“Ducky-” Luke sighed. 
“No,” You stood up shaking your head, “The love of my life just walked out the door because he knows that I care too much about you and your opinion. So Luke, are you happy?”
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exhaslo · 11 months
Text
Kinktober Day 31- Ghost face!Miguel x Shy!Reader
*Requested by the many fans of tumblr. Happy Halloween!*
        Everyone had warned you about moving to Nueva York. The amount of dangerous people in that city were overwhelming. You were going to be eaten alive as your friends and family warned. You thought of yourself better and wanted to prove to them that you could survive. The shy and quiet you, who barely had to courage to say no. It was something you always struggled with, but you hoped that this new job would help you with it.
        You were hired at Alchemax as a lab assistant. You tried to fit in, but everyone was so self centered that you ended up being a loner. Everyone except one person. Miguel O'Hara. He had extended the hand of friendship to you, wanting to make you feel more comfortable around the place. You instantly fell for him. He was so kind to you and understanding. You had just wished that everyone was like him. You had wished you had the courage to ask him out.
"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked as he tried to grab your attention. You flinched out of your daydream,
"Y-Yeah, sorry. I've been...tired lately."
"I've noticed that you've been taking on other people's work. You need to learn to say no," Miguel told you before typing away on his computer. You could only nod,
"I...know...I've also had trouble sleeping...N-News of that...Ghostface going around killing people has me spooked." Miguel glanced you way, handing you a bottle of water, "T-Thanks."
"You'll be okay, tomorrow's Halloween, that's the last day he goes out. Just stay home, okay?" You let out a small whimper, hesitating. "You are staying home, right?" Miguel asked, stopping his work. Tears almost fell from your eyes,
"I-I got...I was told to join some of the others...a-at a small...work...party," Miguel saw you shaking, "I-I...I couldn't say no..."
"Sí, ¿qué voy a hacer contigo? Mi pobre muñeca inocente. (Aye, what am I to do with you? My poor innocent doll.)" Miguel whispered, knowing that you knew nothing of Spanish. He took you hand, calming you down, "Don't worry, you'll be okay."
        You looked into Miguel's eyes, smiling softly as you calmed down. After wiping your tears away, you thanked him quietly before hurrying off to go back to work. Miguel watched you scurry off. He growled lowly as he walked to his trash. That invitation was in there somewhere. Your coworkers didn't care about you to invite you to some Halloween party. They had other plans, and now Miguel did too. Finding the paper, Miguel's eyes shined brighter than normal.
"Tendré que matar a todos y hacerme el héroe, sólo para ti, mi preciosa querida. (I'll just have to kill everyone and play the hero, just for you my precious darling)"
-------------
        You stood in the corner of the small party, watching all of your coworkers enjoying themselves. You glanced down at your costume, wondering if it was too weird. Everyone else was dressed up in slutty and revealing outfits and here you were, with the costume you thought looked the cutest. You sighed sadly, wondering why you were even here. No one was talking to you. You were just there. Another sigh escaped your lips as you made your way to the upstairs bathroom.
        As you washed up, you heard faint screaming. You gasped and shut the light off, your heart beating faster. Loud thumps echoed from the staircase, causing you to whimper. Tears rolled down your cheeks as the loud thumping stopped right in front of the bathroom door. You hurried into the tub, holding yourself as you shook. This was not how you wanted to die. You cried as the door slammed open,
"BOO!"
"KYAAA!" You screamed, covering your ears. You heard loud laughter and raised your head to your coworkers,
"Ah man! Did you get that on video!?" One of them yelled.
        You stormed out of the bathroom, sobbing past everyone as they laughed at you. You made your way to the backyard since the front entrance was blocked off. You sat on the steps, crying your eyes out. They only invited you to make fun of you since you were so scared of Ghostface. You were just a quiet coworker, what did you do to deserve this? Upon hearing another scream, you whimpered in response. Were they trying to scare you again?
"I'll just stay here for a bit. They have to unblock the door soon," You whispered.
----------
        Miguel had watched the whole thing. His anger had reached a new boiling point. Fixing his mask, Miguel's grip on his knife tighten as he made his way inside. He was the one who blocked the door. Standing in the corner, Miguel watched you ran outside crying. Perfect. He was going to start with the stragglers downstairs. It was a big house and not too many people. The job needed to get new employees anyway. These guys were just dead weight.
        Miguel approached each person a little louder than he wanted. He was so fueled with anger that he couldn't focus. He just wanted everyone to pay for what they did. After his first kill, Miguel inhaled deeply. The smell of metallic blood filling his nostrils. He was not going to get now. He had taken out his anger during this month. It was the only time he could. Slowly making his way over to his next victim, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he thought of you.
        You were going to be his perfect little wife. Miguel was going to make sure you stay in the dark about his secret. He just wanted to keep you safe. He wanted to keep you protected and loved. When you first arrived at Alchemax, Miguel thought he saw an angel. A shy little angel who entered his life just for him. Miguel had hunted every single asshole who dared tried to flirt with you, or even scared you. Miguel was going to be your dark protector.
"AHHHHHH!" 
        There it was. The first scream of the night and not from a scare, but because of the dead bodies that laid under Miguel. Smiling through the mask, Miguel watched the girl run to warn the others. Ah yes, that was the start. Miguel inhaled deeply, getting enjoyment from true horror. He was going to enjoy his last few kills of the night. It was going to be another year until Miguel could kill again.
----------
        After calming down, you decided to leave. You rubbed your eyes once more before entering the house. It was quiet aside from the sound of thumping from upstairs. They were probably enjoying themselves. Honestly, you were mad at your cruel coworkers. You stopped at the front door, seeing that it was still blocked. Why were they doing this to you? The couch was far too heavy for you to move on your own. Looking for another way out, you gasped as you stepped in something.
"My shoe," You whimpered, looking at the red puddle.
        Following the puddle, you gasped sharply as you saw one of you coworkers dead. Your heart started to race again as screams came from upstairs. You hurried to the kitchen, wondering if there was a door there and froze as another dead body laid before you. This was bad. Ghostface was here and he was killing everyone. Tears began to roll down your cheeks again as you hurried to find somewhere to escape. Maybe there was a gate in the backyard?
"Please! Don't kill me!" One of your coworkers screamed as another ran down the stairs,
"(Y/N)?! You're still here?!" He yelled and gasped as Ghostface started to walk down the stairs, "Fuck it, I ain't dying here!"
        You yelped as your coworker grabbed you harshly and threw you in front of the staircase. You eyes widen as you nearly froze in fear as Ghostface stood directly before you. You couldn't move. His knife was stained with blood. You shook and closed your eyes, crying as you waited for the worst.
"No! Stay back!"
        You shuddered a gasp as you heard Ghostface leave to your coworker first. Quickly, you found a closet and hid in there until it was safe. You were frighten and scared. Covering your ears, you tried to stay quiet as you waited. Waited for Ghostface to leave.
"(Y/N)? Are you here?" That voice. You knew it all too well.
"M-Miguel! R-Run!" You cried out.
----------
        Miguel whispered some cusses towards your coworkers as he stabbed him. Now that everyone was dead, it was time for you. He knew that you ran to the living room, but where were you hiding? He stopped to clean his knife in the kitchen sink, washing all the blood off. Once that was done, he attached the knife to his thigh strap under his pants. He then took his mask off, putting it inside one of his cloak pockets that was big enough.
"(Y/N)? Are you here?" He called out, wanting to bring you out of hiding.
"M-Miguel! R-Run!" Those cries weren't meant for you.
"It's okay, I'm here now. I saw Ghostface head upstairs, quickly close your eyes and come out. I'll get you out of here."
        You were such a good girl for him. You crawled out of the closet with your eyes closed, your breathing still heavy. Miguel just smiled towards your shaken form, knowing that you were going to be in his arms in a second. With ease, he picked you up, holding you close. He could feel your heart beat. You were sobbing and holding onto him for dear life. You had no reason to cry now. Miguel was going to take care of you.
"Shh, it's okay. I'm here," Miguel whispered as he stroked your head. You just cried into his shoulder,
"M-Miguel, I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"You have nothing to apologize for. I'll take good care of you,"
"T-They're all dead. I-I thought...I was next...Miguel...I love you. I love you. I'm sorry, I'm a scaredy cat and shy and nervous...I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner," You kept babbling, crying your heart out since you thought you were going to die.
"Dios mío, no me esperaba esto. Voy a follarte bien esta noche para que te olvides de todo esto. (My god, I wasn't expecting this. I'm going to fuck you go good tonight that you're going to forget all about this.)" He groaned lowly.
"M-Miguel?"
"It's okay, (Y/n), I love you too. I'll take good care of you."
-----------
        You sniffled as you stepped out of Miguel's shower, rubbing your arms as you wore some of his spare clothes. Miguel was kind enough to take you to his home, wanting to comfort you for the night. You were nervous as you stepped into his living room. It was quiet. Miguel was taking a shower in his other bathroom. Who would have thought that Miguel was rich? You explored his place, still surprised by the turn of events.
        You ended up in the kitchen, noticing a knife in the sink. It looked so much like the knife Ghostface had. Shaking the thought out of your head, you made your way back to the living room. You wanted to forget about what happened tonight. You tried to at least. You knew you were going to have trouble sleeping again. Tomorrow was going to be harsher because everyone was going to be asking about the others. Asking why you were the only one left alive.
"W-What if they think I killed them?" You stuttered at the thought. Miguel approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist,
"Then they would be fools," He kissed the back of your neck.
        You shuddered at the affection Miguel gave you. Turning around, you pulled him into a tight hug. Miguel chuckled as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom. Your cheeks burned up as he placed you on his bed. Miguel stroked your cheek, calming you down again. His smile instantly making you fold for him.
"Do you trust me?" Miguel asked you as he slowly climbed over you. You just nodded, "Good, there's something you need to know,"
        You whimpered as Miguel kissed your neck. His hands stroked your sides under the shirt you wore. He let out a low groan since you looked so good in his clothes. You let out a breathless moan as he cupped you breasts. Miguel was going to wait until you were completely in his grasp before telling you. After all, you couldn't say no. You were going to be his good girl forever.
"M-Miguel?" You whined softly as he took your shirt off, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. 
"You're not going back to work," Miguel whispered as he started to grind his bulge against your cunt, "You're going to stay here. Make it look like you died with the others."
"W-What?!" You asked, but flung your head back as Miguel sucked on your breasts.
        You moaned softly as Miguel spread you legs, allowing him to rut into you rougher. You felt yourself getting wetter. The boxers he let you wear were too thin and easy for him to grind against. You tried to ask him what he meant, but you were being overwhelmed with pleasure. Miguel's hands were now resting against the boxers, rubbing your clit against the fabric. You body leaned into his touch, desperate for more. His tongue swirled around your nipple, making his way back up to your neck.
"You're going to stay here, baby." He whispered again, his fingers dipping under the boxers and circling your clit, "My beautiful angel. I can't let anyone have you. I can't let anyone harm you. You were always mine."
"Mhm~ M-Miguel~"
"(Y/N), don't be afraid of me. I will never harm you." Miguel watched as you bit you lower lip, moving your hips with his hand, "Así es. Déjame convertirte en la esposa perfecta. Déjame manchar tu hermosa inocencia. (That's right. Let me fuck you into the perfect wife. Let me taint your beautiful innocence." He groaned lowly.
        You whimpered a moan as you felt a knot tighten inside you. Miguel moved his fingers faster against your clit, causing that knot to tighten. You tried to rub your legs together, but Miguel kept them spread. He sucked against your neck, groaning as you cam from just him playing with your clit. His fingers dipped lower, two digits entering your tight, soaked cunt. You moaned again, your cunt squeezing his fingers as he pumped inside you.
"Ah, my sweet innocent little angel. Watching you break because of me is so delicious." Miguel groaned as you squirmed and moved your hips to his touch, "You're going to stay here. I'll make sure no one will ever hurt you again, understood?"
"Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried out as his fingers feverishly fucked your tight gummy walls.
        You whined as Miguel raised your legs over his shoulders. Your pussy clenched his fingers as he started to curl against your sweet spot. You flung your head back as he started to wiggle his fingers inside you. His thumb rubbed against your clit again, bringing you over to the edge. Miguel wasn't making any sense, but his words were making you wetter. Honestly, with how tonight went, you wouldn't mind being stuck in Miguel's home forever. He was your protector.
"M-MIG-" You screamed out as you reached another orgasm. Miguel pulled his fingers out, licking them,
"You even taste sweet," He hummed, holding his erection towards your twitching folds, "You have no idea the amount of men I had to get rid of to make sure you stayed innocent, just for me. Seré tu primero en todo... y tu último. (I will be your first for everything...and your last.)" He groaned.
        You whimpered as you felt Miguel's dick stretch you out painfully. His cock was so thick and long. Your pussy was convulsing around him, sucking him in while drool rolled down your lips. He was making you feel so full. You wanted to question him on what he meant by getting rid of people, but you started to get drunk off his cock. Another whimper escaped your lips as Miguel groaned, fitting his whole length inside you. You swore that he was pressing against your cervix, but you weren't sure. This was a first for you.
"Un ajuste perfecto. Fuiste hecho para mí, cariño. Voy a grabar la forma de mi polla en tu memoria. (A perfect fit. You were made for me, darling. I'm going to fuck the shape of my dick into your memory.)" He groaned, slowly pulling out of you, "Killing all those people made this worth it."
"H-Huh?"
        You moaned loudly as Miguel thrusted his dick back inside you, hitting your cervix with each thrust. You cried out as Miguel started to bully your cunt, causing you to turn into putty under him. You could barely feel your legs as the slapping sounds between you grew louder. His dick forming a perfect space inside your pussy. You trembled as you started to reach another orgasm, unable to take the pleasure that he was filling you with.
"Look at you, so fucked out on my cock. How does it feel to get fucked by Ghostface, baby? Does my dick feel that good?" Miguel moaned as you tighten around him, "Yes, it does, doesn't it. Why else would you be squeezing me this tight?"
"H-Hah~ Ah~ Y-You're....ah~ mhpm...G-Ghost...f-face?" You whimpered lowly. Miguel fasten his pace, enjoying the white ring that formed around his dick,
"Yes. I'm the scary Ghostface that killed those asshole coworkers of ours," He chuckled, stopping to fill you with his seed, "I told you that you'd be okay. I will never, ever hurt you. Only love you."
        You wanted to be scared. You truly did, but both your brain and your heart were only thinking about Miguel's dick pounding you still. His hot semen filling your womb as he kept fucking you dumb. You body twitched from overstimulation as Miguel started to rub your clit again. He leaned down to kiss you, biting you lower lip as you moaned for him. His grip tighten against your hips, rutting into you furiously. He wanted to make sure you knew that you were his.
"Awe? Tired already? I think I need to show you how many people I've killed for you. Here's the second victim." Miguel groaned as he cummed inside you again. 
"Mhm~" You muffled lowly, growing exhausted. Miguel chuckled as he pulled you to his lap,
"Tienes razón cariño. Vas a ser la esposa de Ghostface. Siempre puedo mostrarte mi amor en cualquier momento. (You're right darling. You're going to be Ghostface's wife. I can always show you my love anytime.)
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        When you woke up, Miguel was by your side with water, vitamins and breakfast. He had bathed you and put on a fresh pair of clothes. You recalled his confession from last night and grew slightly nervous. Miguel, the man you longed for, was the murderous Ghostface. He killed your coworkers and faked your death. You now belonged to Miguel. You wanted to be scared, but Miguel had proved to you that he was never going to hurt you.
        Maybe it was your blind faith or actually being fucked dumb, but you willingly agreed to stay with Miguel. You stayed in his place as his house wife, greeting him with love everyday. Miguel rewarded your love with his brutal sex, reminding you that you belonged to him. By next Halloween, Miguel returned to his Ghostface persona, needing to release some steam. You became his accomplish, making sure that he returned home safe and sound.
"How was my good girl tonight?" Miguel hummed as he slapped his dick into your soaked pussy. You whined into the bedsheets,
"D-Distracted t-the...ah~ police...s-sending em...mhm~ opposite side of...of....ah~ t-town~!" You cried out. Miguel groaned happily, harshly shoving his dick deeper into you to fill,
"That's my perfect angel. Well done."
"T-Thank you!" You moaned against him, shaking from the pleasure. Miguel hummed happily as he kept thrusting inside you,
"I think you deserve a reward. Why don't we try making a little Ghostface jr?"
"Yes! Yes!"
        Your vision blurred as you moved in rhythm to Miguel's thrusts. Your mind started to fill with lust as you became tainted by Miguel. You were just as bad as him now, but you didn't care anymore. As long as Miguel was there to love you and protect you, you were okay. You moaned loudly as you cam against his dick, burying your head into the pillow again. You were happy with you life now. You were going to protect and live with Miguel forever.
Forever as Ghostface's wife.
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sturniologals · 4 months
Text
Mine. {M.S}
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
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☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆
warnings: smut/p in v (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy)/ slightly angry sex
Summary: Y/n and Matt are roommates. Your parents are all close and you were moving to go to college in new york, so of course Matt’s mom forced him to let you stay with him in the new and strange environment. This would be fine if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s always been extremely over protective and tries to control your social life in every aspect, so what happens when Matt finds your one night stand shuffling out his penthouse?
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The sound of my feet pattering against the cold floor of the kitchen is the only sound that can be heard in aydens desolate penthouse.
I walk towards the fridge to get some water but before i can make it there, i hear a loud snore. I quickly whip my head around to see my one night stand passed out on the couch.
“fuck! shit! fuck!” i whisper shout to myself under my breath as i run over to the couch and start shaking the man awake. i don’t even know his name, i met him at a club last night.
“Hey! wakey wakey buddy!” i shout at the man as i continue to shake his shoulders.
I have to get him out of here before matt gets back.
The man starts to groan and shift his body as he stirs awake. “why are you still here?!” i shout.
He woke me up when he left my room at around 4:30 this morning and i assumed he was leaving.
The man sits up and brushes his slightly greased black hair back. “s-sorry- i fell asleep in here when i was putting my shoes on i think.”
“yeah, okay time to go.” i say as i rush him as he slips on his sweatshirt and stumbles as he walks towards the door.
“jesus! okay! okay!” He says in a whiny voice as i shove him towards the front door.
He opens the front door and i’m met with Matt, standing in doorway.
“shit.” i mumble to myself, seeing his face instantly turn angry as my hookup awkwardly smiles at Matt and shuffles past him in the doorway. Matt’s not moving and holding intimidating eye contact as the man slides past.
The man walks past Matt but before he can get even a foot away, Matt grabs him by the collar of his shirt and jerks him back towards him.
“Don’t ever fucking speak to y/n again.” Matt gruffs out harshly as he looks down at the man, towering over him.
“Matt-“ I say, but i’m ignored in the moment.
The man says nothing but just runs off as Matt lets go of him.
Matt turns back to look at me, a look of desperation and anger in his eyes as he walks in through the door past me. I slowly turn behind him, shutting the door behind us.
I have to talk to him and address the problem because i’m not doing this shit again with him. The last time this happened, he was an asshole for a month.
“Matt, what the fuck?” I retort as ayden opens the fridge up and gets a bottle of water out.
“Hm? what’s the matter y/n?” He asks, faking a look of confusion as he takes a sip from his water bottle, his full lips glowing with a shimmer of wetness as he pulls the bottle away.
“Don’t act fucking clueless. I’m tired of you getting so mad when i hookup with someone. I’m not even dating him for Christs sake! It was just a fuck!” I yell, obviously getting bothered. I can physically feel my face heating up and getting red.
“y/n, don’t shout.” Matt says quietly and eerily calm, trying to put on a facade of being not bothered by the conversation.
“Matt, listen to me.” I say as i let out a deep breath. “I’m not doing this shit with you again. The last time i even talked about hanging out with a guy, you threw a fucking fit and was an asshole to me for a fucking week! i’m not doing it again. I’m 20 years old- i’m allowed to have a hookup or hell- a boyfriend if i want.”
I finish off breathlessly, relieved to have finally said the words that have been brewing in my mind for almost a year.
Matt’s face remains stoic as he places his glass cup down on the counter before rolling the sleeves of his white button up, up to his elbows and slowly walking over to me.
“why don’t you have a boyfriend then, hm? why just hookups?” He says quietly, the words rolling off of his lips so smoothly as he looks down at me.
“Because- you- you’d get mad and i just don’t want to deal with your attitude-“ I stutter my words out, my voice faltering as Matt continues to close the space between us.
“I don’t think that’s true sweetheart, you do whatever you want anyways. You always have. That’s what drives me so fucking crazy.” Matt says as his hand comes up to the side of my face. I can do nothing but stare up at him as his thumb runs over my bottom lip. I close my eyes and let out a huff of a breath that i didn’t know i was even holding in.
“I don’t want another man in this penthouse alone with you that isn’t me.” Matt says quietly as his eyes continue to scan over my face.
“Matt-“ I begin to grow angry and displeased with his words but he cuts me off by leaning down a few inches to my ear before i can finish my sentence.
“I want it to be me, y/n. You’re already mine anyways, just let me- let me be here for you.” he whispers seductively into my ears, sending a shiver through my body as he leans back up to look at me with desperate and pleading eyes.
“Matt, this will never work.” I say with hesitation. Deep down, i know it could work because now that i’m thinking about it, Matt is obsessed with me. Almost everything he does revolves around me, so i know he’d make it work.
“yes it will, y/n. I love you. I’ll make it work sweetheart. Please-“ He says as his eyes scan all over my face, looking for any of my emotions to read. I’ve never seen Matt like this. I’ve never seen him so- desperate…so vulnerable.
Before he can plead with me again, i throw my arms around his neck and place my lips on his quickly and passionately. He quickly reciprocates the kiss and his hands go straight to my hips as he lifts me up and places me on the kitchen island, i groan into his lips as the cold countertop hits my ass.
“My god-“ He groans out lowly before sliding his tongue into my mouth. My legs tighten around his waist and i can feel his hard erection pressing into my thigh.
When Matt feels my legs tighten around him, he lets out a low whimper that makes me audibly moan his name. He looks at me with swollen lips and dazed eyes.
“I want you- please.” I say with exasperation evident in my voice.
Matt groans into my shoulder before quickly pulling his belt through the loops as he grabs me by my waist and pulls me down off of the counter. I have no time to breathe or ask questions before he turns me over so my stomachs half way onto the counter and pushes my face against the cold granite countertop.
“Yeah?” Matt says with a lustful voice.
“Yes Matt.” I groan as he presses himself against my ass.
“Mm, can i?” he asks lowly as he fiddles with the waistband of my shorts.
“Yes- please.” I quickly give him my consent and he wastes no time as he jerks my shorts down along with my underwear. He immediately shoved himself into me without warning, making me yell out loudly as my pussy stretches, trying to accommodate his size.
“Matt! fuck!” I moan loudly as he bottoms out.
“So- so tight. You feel so good y/n.” He says with a hoarse voice as he slowly starts moving inside of me.
After a few moments, im starting to get used to his size as he slowly pulls out before shoving back inside again, this time he relentlessly increases his speed as i shout moans of his name. He grabs onto my scalp, getting a fistful of hair as he pulls my head up as he continues to ram into me.
“Did you make up your mind? are you ever gonna let another man fuck you like this?” He says loudly, having to almost yell over the erotic sounds poring from my mouth.
“Nobody ever again! I’m yours Matt, all yours.” I moan, my mouth gapes open when Matt hears my words and speeds up his pace even more somehow.
“I’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’re gonna take every fucking drop.” He says sternly as his movements become sloppier.
“Matt please-“ I moan loudly as we both finish at the same time.
After a few moments of heavy breathing, ayden slowly pulls out while rubbing my back soothingly.
“I’ve thought about doing that to you for so fucking long.” Matt says with a small chuckle. I’m not even able to say anything, my body still trying to come down from my high.
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calumfmu · 5 months
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i could send you a million requests!
having an affair with your divorce lawyer steve 😏
HIII HUNNNN. Thank you for your patience love <3 Here it is in all its glory, smut, smut, smut oooo Divorce Lawyer!Steve x Reader (2.3k+ words of pure smut) cw: 18+, mdni, smut, riding, unprotected sex, p in v, cream pie, dirty talk, ugh, all Steve goodness, set in NY, famous!reader,
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Three drinks down, adrenaline pumping through your veins, you only had one thing on your mind. Freedom. It was seven months into this divorce--if you could even call it that. A messy separation, public legal dispute that was plaguing the city's newspapers, headlines screaming about the famous ex-ball player's divorce with New York's once most eligible bachelorette.
Hitting the town three days in a row seemed like a good idea in retrospect, but it was really starting to get to you and your reputation. But as you chased that sixth tequila shot with lime, it was the last thing on your mind.
"Hey, isn't that..." your friend's voice trailed off as she pointed her beer towards someone across the bar. You followed the point of the bottle, gaze focusing on a tall man--Steve.
A Cheshire grin spread across your face, eyes widening as you recognized him, his mole dotted face, thin wire glasses framing his face as he laughed with a group of other suits, those you knew as his colleagues.
"Oh my God," you whined, immediately downing the shot that was supposed to be for her. She protested, hands throwing up around her as she watched you finish it with a grimace. "What is he doing here?"
She shrugged, swigging out of the glass as she eyed him down. Her bobbed hair swung in the air as she tilted her head down to fully drink him in.
"You know if I was straight I'd be all over that," she replied, turning around to face the bar. Your eyes remained on the older guy, tongue darting out to lick at the corner of your mouth.
"Robin!" You squealed, swatting at her arm. She giggled in response, arm waving to capture the attention of the bartender.
"I'm just saying," her tone was suggestive, eyebrows wiggling with her words. "You should just get after it, I mean... see what Harrington & Partner really has to offer."
You considered her point, your own head tilting down to observe him as his head tilted back with laughter. From across the bar, you could see the stretch of his neck, the expanse of skin being exposed to show more moles, disappearing behind the fitted collar of his dress shirt. The dark bar lighting did wonders for him, highlighting the amber high lights of his hair, showing off the small gray wisps that poked out at his hairline, a testament to how men age like fine wine.
"I've already seen what it has to offer," you said under your breath, grabbing her beer out of her hand. She whined again as you finished it off, slamming it on the counter behind you. "And I want more."
Her jaw dropped, eyes widening as she took in your words.
"What do you mean you've already seen it?"
Laughing, you took a step away from her, bag fitted over your shoulder as you adjusted the dress you wore. "Long story. Late night. Tedious divorce papers. Did I say that out loud?"
She reached a hand out to you, but you dodged it, backing away from her as you made your way over to his group. Her eye roll was enough for you to know you were making a bad decision, but you couldn't care. Your mind was set on one thing only.
"Steve!" You cheered, waving at him as he looked at you confused. Immediately, his gaze dipped across your figure, dress hugging your curves in all the right places.
He covered it up with a cough, eyes widening as he suddenly realized he was in the presence of those he worked with. The sound of your name rolled off of his lips, a surprised cackle of speech.
"What are you doing here?" It was less of a question and more accusatory.
Your mouth dropped open in a wide smile as you held your arms out. "Celebrating my separation, freedom."
Realization crossed his features as your words slurred, the intoxication becoming clear as you lingered a little too close for comfort. The men he surrounded himself with eyed you as well, eyes flickering over you as you teetered on the heels in your feet.
"Ah," he muttered, tongue smacking against his teeth as he took a step back. His hand came up to adjust the tie that was fitted around his neck. "I see. Just a few months away from that."
The suits laughed, deep chuckles of laughter that screamed money. Old money, New York money, jurisprudence, whatever you wanted to call it. Rolling your eyes, you felt all the confidence of the tequila shots you took, pressing a hand to his arm. His eyes dropped to it, slowly dragging away to peer down at you over his wire frames.
"Excuse me," he said to the group, placing a hand to your lower back to drag you away from them. He lead you through the crowd, pressing you into a dark corner of the swanky bar. On the way, you had seen Robin, her thumbs up thrown in your direction.
"What are you doing?" He whispered again, backing you into a wall. He towered over you, immediately, you were weak in the knees, this interaction normally being behind the closed doors of his 30th story office.
Your hand found his arm again, trailing up the expanse of it as you craned your head back, a soft bump against the wall.
"Having fun," you sighed, biting your lip as he took a step closer to you. His scent overwhelmed you, warmth beginning to pool into the pit of your stomach as you rested a foot up against the wall.
"This is a bad look," he suddenly grew professional, straightening up as your hand left his arm and began to trail down his abdomen.
You rolled your eyes, dragging out a groan that bordered childish.
"You're a bad look," you retorted, reaching up to grab the lapels of his suit. Tugging him closer to you, you pressed your lips to the side of his neck. "You're wearing too many clothes."
He pulled away from you again, clearing his throat as he urged you from the wall. Fast in his movements, his hand was at the small of your back, pulling you towards a back exit, one you were unaware that was even there.
A black Lincoln sat in an alleyway, the door opening as he threw you in the backseat. You rolled your eyes as you sat up, pulling down your skirt as he slid in behind you. He muttered something to a driver, the car already moving as the world began to spin around you.
"You can't have people seeing you like this," he muttered, shaking his head as he pressed the back of his hand to your forehead. Leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttered shut.
"Relax, nobody saw."
"Hmm," he was annoyed, the tone of his voice short. "You don't know that for sure. There's too much at stake right now, especially with the way his side is going."
You groaned, leaning fully into him as you began to trail a hand over his body. Touching any skin you could get was the only thing you were focused on, hastily unbuttoning his shirt as the car began to make turns throughout the city. He didn't oppose, only settled into the back seat of the vehicle even further.
"I don't want to talk about him."
You climbed into his lap, squeezing in the small space as you pressed your lips to his. His hands found your ass, squeezing as he ground you down into him. The stubble on his face scratched at yours, your jaw rubbed raw as the two of you made out, tongues fighting against each other.
"I think you're," he muttered in between kisses, his hands beginning to lift your skirt as your hands found his belt buckle. "The worst client I've ever had."
"Mmmm," you groaned, pulling his belt buckle loose. It clanked in the air, followed by the sound of the driver sliding the separation window closed. "Talk dirty to me, Harrington."
He laughed into the kiss, lips slotting into yours perfectly as you freed him from his pants. His cock was angry red, swollen through its length as you briefly looked down to grip at him. The girth of it alone had you watering at the mouth, wishing you had the freedom to sink to your knees.
You pulled away from him, pressing him back down into the cushion of the seat as he chased your mouth, leaning up as he wanted more. He groaned at your touch, his head leaning back against the headrests.
"Need you to fuck me," you whispered, adjusting so the cave of your pussy sat right over him. A pant escaped him as he felt your wetness, encasing him as you grinded down on him.
"You're gonna get me fired, hun," he moaned, teeth digging into his lip as you lifted off of him, angling him so his head pressed at your entrance. The small stretch of his tip had you mewling, the intoxication of the alcohol leaving your body as you got drunk off of a new feeling.
"We've barely left Manhattan," the grunt of words only worsened as you pressed lower, his length stretching you wide. His hands found your hips, guiding you lower.
Your knees sat on the sides of his hips, locking him in as you stopped half way, hovering above him. With your head tilted back, staring up at the ceiling of the car, your eyes watered, the heat of the moment making you so caught up that you cursed at your previous idea of skipping the foreplay.
"You talk too much," you whispered, pressing all the way down. Stretched down to the hilt, the both of you sat in silent groans, his hand finding the back of your neck to press his forehead into yours.
From this angle, you could see the chocolate brown of his eyes, sunken with desire, his lids hooded in pleasure.
"fuck." The hand that never left your hip raised you, a soft squelch filling the back seat as your wetness dripped around him.
As you began to bounce on his cock, his moans began to grow louder, fingers digging marks into your hip. The press of his cock deep inside made you feel weak, that spongy spot not being granted mercy as he drove into you.
"Steve," you groaned, swirling your hips as he mouthed at your neck, deep colored marks being left in his wake. The heat of his touch added to the fire pooling in your belly, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.
Look at my dirty girl.
His words could've gotten you right then and there, if it were not for the alcohol in your system prolonging your orgasm. You loved it when he called you names like that, claiming you as his even when you both knew you weren't.
Such a bad girl.
That one had you squeezing your eyes even tighter, your hands resting on the tops of his shoulders as you rode him, bouncing in a frenzy that he had yet to see. The scratch of his suit pants against your ass was oddly soothing, distracting you from the white hot feeling building faster and faster.
"Need you to fuck me harder," you whimpered, reaching a hand up to tug at his hair. The sounds he made to the yank on his scalp had you pulling closer to your orgasm, legs shaking as he began to match you half way, hips lifting off of the seat.
A ring of white began to form at the base of his cock, wetness from your pussy building into a thick cream, your release teetering on the edge. He was close to his own release, his breath coming short as he fucked you, hips moving into an uneven pattern.
"Gonna cum all in you i-if you keep talking like that," he tried being strong in his words, but his voice failed him, cracking in the middle.
A small smile ghosted your lips, knowing exactly what it would take to get him to paint you white, release deep inside of you.
"Cum inside me," you whined, sinking lower as you pressed your lips to the shell of his ear. Your voice was low, scratchy from the frequent moans, borderline shouts he drew out of you.
"Make me yours, Steve."
He groaned, hands locking behind your hips as he began to drive into you, slapping sounds filling the air. Your hand snaked down to circle at your clit, tight circles around the nub that had your eyes rolling back.
"Show everyone who's pussy this really is."
With a low groan, he came inside you, fucking you through it as you found your release quickly after. It was the loudest one you had experienced, legs shaking as explosions tingled up your spine. His hips never slowed, riding out both of your highs.
You pushed off of him, collapsing into the empty leather next to him, legs sprawled wide open. Your chest heaved with exhaustion, yet adrenaline still coursed through you, tequila urging another round already.
"How soon do you think is too soon for me to marry my divorce lawyer?"
He laughed at your words, tucking himself away as he peered out the window. The city lights were far in the background, familiar streets nearing his home coming up in the distance.
"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, dear," he shook his head, leaning down onto you to press a kiss to your forehead anyways. You beamed at the press of his lips, tilting your head closer to him.
The look in his eyes that he gave you was sweet, something that you had once yearned for from your now-ex. You knew it was wrong, to be this smitten over your divorce lawyer, but God, was he beautiful.
Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3
also--not proofread, but should be in the next week or so :)
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