#so i just have no fuckin' clue what's going on

[existennialmemes]

It's distressing how deep I have to get into a suggested video before I understand whether I'm looking at food, soap, or wax melts.

"And now we're pouring this luscious Rose Vanilla into the mold" ok but can I lick it?? Or more pertinently, am I supposed to lick it??

[orcelito]

My nails r getting kind of long. Almost to claw mode. I kinda don't wanna cut them tho bc I kinda wanna paint them for my birthday weekend

Nonzero chance of seeing my mom on mother's day. By my own choice, I guess. And I'm still not sure how I'm feeling about that. But ykno what, it'll be my birthday weekend, and I'm going to make sure to live it to the fullest..!!!

[why-the-heck-not]

hate hate hate the feeling of turning in a part of an assignment and being hella embarrased abt how it is :3 like, feeling someone’s just gonna email me like ”hey?? what the fuck ??? what are u doing here this is garbage” like yeah dude i dont know what to tell you, things did not go well this week

[watery-melon-baller]

ive been yapping forever abt switching majors but god it would be so awful and embarrassing if they just,,,, didn't accept me. id just crawl in a hole and die of shame

[trans-leek-cookie]

post. Post-posting clarity where you're like "wtf was I talking about". But also post-posting confusion where you're also like "wtf was I talking about" but it's less about your mental state While Posting and more about "okay. I've written many words. I remember. Approximately 20% of them. What the fuck are the rest of these?"

[confused-alpaca]

genuinely tho why is finding local community so fucking inaccessible. i just want to sometimes do something mildly useful for other people but. it is impossible to find whats going on!!!

[cephydeluxe]

"goddamn, i hate fe fates so fucking much", i say, knowing damn well i sunk 500+ hours into all three of the routes and spending countless hours rewriting it in my head for no reason other than my own enjoyment-

[conspiracy-crows-vent]

Sometimes everything is fantastic and wonderful except like

1 thing

But that one thing causes you enough frustration, irritation, or other bothersome emotion that it kinda ruins the fantastic for a bit.

[szasfuckingwife]

basketballer!Gojo who knew you from college. You often showed up to his games with your friend (who liked Suguru) and just, in the most uncreepy way possible , stare at him.

basketballer!Gojo who stayed in contact with you even when he went pro. The blinding lights of fame didn’t blur his deep attraction and fondness of you. Even on his least busiest day, which was still pretty busy, he made time for you.

‘Morning, my love…your smile lightens the world and my heart, love G.S’

You smile at the note that was amongst the several bouquets of red roses, your fave.

basketballer!Gojo who made sure he returned to you every night. Unlike his teammates, he wasn’t the type to go clubbing or anything similar. He was just a guy, obsessed with playing basketball and his girlfriend.

“Fuckin’ love you, Y/N…” He breathes into your ear. After a very deserved win, he made sure to let you know how much he appreciated your support. A string of whimpers left your mouth as his dick slid in and out of you. “Always so good for me, baby..”

basketballer!Gojo who, for some reason, gets a little jealous when you steal some of his spotlight. Maybe it was just an ego thing. He was fine at first when it came to you being called ‘WAG of the season’ after sporting some cute outfits. But then when magazines and publishers hit you up, something shifted.

It was no longer Satoru Gojo and his girlfriend. But now Y/N L/N and…what’s-his-face..?

basketballer!Gojo who you no longer recognised after a heated argument.

“You know, this is so predictable. I supported you since we were in college and the one time something good goes for me, you bitch and complain!”, you yell him, your index finger was firm against his chest. “It pisses me off, Gojo. I’m done.”

He scoffs, “I just think it’s too much. The red carpets and shit, I don’t get it.”

“You don’t get it because you’re used to me being just your stay at home girlfriend. Things change!” You release your own scoff to his response.

“Maybe I liked it that way because you had time for me-”

“But you never had time for me!”

basketballer!Gojo who has no comment to reporters when asked about the ‘break up rumours ‘with long term girlfriend, Y/N. But behind the scenes, he’s yearning for your forgiveness. He’s constantly at Suguru and your best friend’s house, hoping he’ll bump into you but you were never there.

it wasn’t until the season’s final where Satoru’s team were up against the undefeated (3 years in a row) champions. He was definitely shitting himself. As team captain, he was physically present, but not mentally.

But when he walked out and saw you in the crowd wearing his jersey, he suddenly felt calm. Were you attracting all the cameras? Yes. Were you dragging attention away from the game? At times, yes. But did he mind? No. For you were there for him. Even when you hated his guts.

basketballer!Gojo who fucks you like it’s his last night with you after his team won the finals. You can’t even remember how many times you’ve came but Satoru wasn’t gonna let you go.

“Toru-hnnnggghhh..! It’s too much!” You cry out real tears as he fucks up into you. He bites your shoulder, he wanted to be so close to you after so many separated nights.

“I’ve missed this body, I’ve missed you so much, baby. You have no clue…” He growls.

basketballer!Gojo who has the biggest grin on his face when paparazzi swarm him, asking about his engagement with Y/N. Truth be told, he hasn’t stopped smiling since he popped the question.

“Satoru, what’s next for you and Y/N?” A reporter asked.

“Babies. Lot’s of ‘em.” He smugly replies.

You’ll defo punish him for that comment.

[cyber333angel]

sevika making you squirt <3

a/n: sevikas kind of a bully, we dabble into watersports at the end, kind of dubcon but barely, enjoy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

she had you sat down in between her legs, spread out and flustered while she worked you up with her thick fingers and harsh lips. bullying you with every touch and word that she knows will have you crying and cumming in just a moment, all you had asked for was for sevika to help you out a little but she just had to be so mean.

her orders were simple enough, she had told you to “ keep your legs open and your hands away from your cunt or ill stop yeah?” and you nodded, pliant to whatever she needed you to do, you just wanted to cum. you didn’t think it would be so difficult until sevikas hand we’re down your panties, your quivering legs closing on instinct when ever she would rub your sensitive clit in those mind boggling circular motions.

first rule already broken. but as it’s known, sevika was wrapped around your finger and always bended the rules for you with enough begging. she gave you a warning which was enough to fix yourself and behave before she really had to be strict with you.

with a small grunt from behind you, you immediately open your legs with an apology, “m’sorry vika..!” and she doesn’t praise you in response, you know better. the gentle grip she had on your throat tightened for a moment, feeling the cold metal against your skin only added to the pleasure, her mechanical arm always had that kind of effect on you.

the abuse on your cunt was resumed as she slid her thick fingers back into your sopping hole, thrusting them in and out that pulls the most jarring cry from your throat. “so fucking wet..” and with that you feel a heaviness in chest, you unconsciously buck your hips more into the palm of sevikas hand. “jus wait se-“ your arms fumbling around for some kind of release and you can’t even finish your sentences while sevika is basically laughing at you. “such a needy little pussy.” its all too much, the chokehold she had on your throat, her fingers deep in your cunt and the vibrating murmurs of her voice behind you.

without thinking you break rule two. it was inevitable honestly, sevikas fingers were so deep and slippery inside you along with her course thumb rubbing at your clit.. your hands innocently flew over sevikas, trying to grab a hold of the overstimulation and just calm yourself down for a moment despite your girlfriends stern orders. with your hand on top of sevikas you feel no motion. she stopped, just like she said she would. “what did I tell you hm baby?” placing kisses on your forehead, this fake sweet tone was all a facade for what she was really preparing you for. sevika had told you enough times to listen and just stay still but you just had to ruin it, with a pout you look back to sevika with your please-forgive-me eyes. “m’sorry I didn’t mean to sevi! please-just keep going..” you go on and on about how you’ll be a good girl and will listen properly this time, while she just watches at you blabbering waiting for you to stop.

you get the clue and stop talking with tears in your eyes, just hoping sevika would give you another chance. “good girl. finally taking the fuckin hint.” you try to make yourself small and hide into her hold until your back is against sevikas chest, dropping your head down to listen carefully. “you know i don’t wanna be mean to you baby..ill let you cum but you’ll have to work for it hm?” you perk up with all smiles as you turn around to kiss her on the cheek, chanting “thank you!”s repeatedly.

what you were not prepared for was actually having to work for it to cum, you were so used to being spoiled all the time you didn’t think she would purposely make you do all the work. you were still in her lap as sevikas thick fingers were held still in your cunt, laying there with no movement. she was making you fuck yourself on her fingers. not only was it embarrassing but it was tiring you out already. grinding your hips up and down sevikas digits as your slick runs down her hands. your crying as she holds your waist with her other hand, kissing at your back with humiliating praises. “feels good huh pretty girl? fucking dripping all over me..” the thought of even forming a full sentence was long gone, your head was blurry from all the whining and pleading you were doing. “please! need your help vika, can’t do it like you..” you gave up. you needed her help, needed to feel the way her fingers curled into that spot she knows oh too well in your cunt.

with a few thoughtless weak thrust on sevikas fingers you rest yourself on her chest, hazy eyes struggling to stay open. sevika thought about it and yeah, she’ll give you what you want. you asked for it anyway.

next thing you know your achey legs were on the sides of sevikas thighs in her lap with her hand around your neck, fingers deep and swift in the heat of your pussy. “always fuckin complaining huh, is this good enough for you princess? hm? im making this needy pussy feel good?” you both know it’s rhetorical but god you wished you could answer, it did feel good, unbelievably good. she shakes your throat with her hand and you start to croak. legs twitching across the bed with your back arching off sevikas abs. “stay still, you needed me right? can’t help if you squirm like that baby.”

your babbling incoherent pleads weakly and the feeling of her inside you starts to feel like too much —an invigorating pressure on your bladder specifically. “think im gonna pee vi-vika its too much!” her fingers slip in and out of your sopping hole, moving so hastily that the sound of your wetness was heard all around the room. and sevika was behind you enjoying the sight as if you weren’t struggling to control yourself. “s’not funny sevika I think I’m gonna cum!” damp thighs shaking on top of her legs as you shut your eyes, reaching your hands to clasp at the back of sevikas neck for some comfort. hiccuping and moaning at her.

sevika had her fun and finally gave in to let her baby cream on her fingers, surprised but impressed when she hears the spurts of liquid come out from your cunt. whines filling the air while sevika praises you on and keeps the same pace of her fingers in your pussy, “oh that’s my fucking girl, keep going. cumming so good for me messy girl.” placing a kiss to your temples and rubbing at your sensitive bud as your stream slowed down. now your crying with quivering thighs and soaked sheets while you sit spread out and embarrassed. “attagirl, it felt that good? huh? didn’t know you loved my fingers so much.” you groan sarcastically as you struggle to get up from the woman making fun of you, falling back into her lap with her arms wrapped around your waist. “im just kidding baby.” feeling her wipe your tears away with a smile.

[goldsbitch]

monaco kiss .wav

Lando's mildly exhibitionist dreams came true. Due to genius sound engineering, the world can now listen to him and his girlfriend having sex, without a clue it's them.

the track mentioned and referenced (no need to listen to it to get the story, go and be free): French Kiss - The Original Underground Mix, Lil'Louis, The World (credit where credit is due)... 05:30 is the timestamp

word count: 7k

warning: smut, minors DNI, p in v, oral sex, voice notes, colapinto level amount of the word "mate"

PS: i rarely do, but I fuckin love this one

If there was ever a place where Lando could spend hours and hours on end, it was the blue couch at Martin Garrix's personal studio. That piece of furniture was the peak of comfy. He'd asked many times where he got it - if only Martin could remember that.

The whole studio has a cozy vibe around it. A safe space for the F1 star to escape the ever-present eyes of the public, a timeless place where he could wind down and sit passively, while his friend digged notes for hits of the future. They'd often sit for hours in silence, just winding down.

To Lando's joy, the ultimate friend chemistry he had with Martin also worked for him and his, not-so-new-anymore, girlfriend Y/N. In fact, the moment these two met, it was clear that Y/N would quickly become a frequent member of their private recording sessions.

But this time, she had to be in a different city due to work, so it was just the boys, the olden days. Back when Lando would actually dabble in DJ'ing. Those days were long gone, but...It wasn't a rare thing that Lando would help and brainstorm ideas, chord progressions or effects applied to the tracks. What the public didn't know was that he was a loud creative force behind some elements in Martin's recent tracks. Lando had almost threatened him, urging to keep this behind closed door. He wasn't gonna Leclerc this one out.

"You look beat, mate," said Martin finally after nearly two hours of staring into track nods. Lando finally looked up from his phone.

"I'm waiting for you to be done, bro," he replied simply, reffering back to their debate regarding this latest track. A pause. "You know my opinion."

Max turned around to face him, only to find a signature overplayed smirk looking back at him. "You know what, I'm a fucking renowned producer, and you have the decency to come and tell me my track is shit?"

Lando did not flinch. This as a fairly normal way they'd speak together. "Well, someone apparently has to," he shot back, challenging Martin to flip out.

"Screw you," he replied and turned back to face his three monitors. Lando waited patiently, knowing that this was his signature first reaction to criticism. He always came around eventually. Max was his friend. And he would do everything to stop him from releasing crap. "Ok," he heard the DJ say, caving in to his doubts. "I am too deep in this track anyway. Tell me what you think."

"Mate, you said you wanted to do something more experimental. You forgot to add boring," Lando deadpanned.

Martin sighed loudly and leaned back to his chair.

"Don't get me wrong, I fucking love how you go from like - what, 120bpm?-"

"135-"

"Yeah, whatever," Lando said, not happy when Martin used his i-know-music-theory-and-you-don't tone. "As I was gonna say, the come down from the fast tempo to the painfully slow one, in the middle of the track, kind of works. It's certainly nothing like I'd heard play anywhere lately. But like, there is nothing in the production that makes it stand out? Like no real build up or interesting sound."

Lando knew it was brutal from him. But he wasn't there to pat his friend on the back. Just like Martin would never fake compliment his on a bad race. To Lando, this was peak friendship.

Martin hit quick save and closed the file abruptly, startling a minor panic in his friend. Did Lando overstep?

"Come on, mate. Don't copout now."

Martin was visibly startled. "Maybe I just need to put this one down for a moment. Lando did not know what to say to that. He might be right.

"Cig break?"

//

They were standing at the small balcony connected to main entrance to the studio, cigarette smokes mixing together. Yeah, Lando did enjoy an occasional smoke break with his friend. A guilty pleasure one might say.

"So, what was the starting point of the track?" he couldn't help but ask, still not happy to see his friend aborting something he'd spend hours on.

Martin gave him an annoyed look, but did not hesitate to reply. "Remember how the conversation I had about techno tracks being awfully predictable?."

Lando eyes shot up. "Wait, that weird chick you ran into in Germany?"

Rarely would Martin blush, but today was a lucky day apparently. A mocking snort came as a reaction from his friend. "Mate, I don't remember ever seeing you so flustered because of a girl." Few weeks ago, Martin had the fortune of meeting someone who he called "the love of his life" in a random club. And that girl had the audacity to leave him on read for hours. Him, Martin Garrix. Infuriating.

"Yeah, well, fuck you. She was real cool, alternative and reminded me of why I got into music in the first place. Let's revisit how insufferable you were when you met Y/N." Lando exhaled, forever happy anytime anyone ever brought up him and Y/N meeting. If it were up to him, that would be the only thing he's talk about. Getting to know her was like the best kind of drunk one can get. Tipsy enough to make everything fun and perfect, and not too much to get lost in it.

"Fuck off, I was never as insufferable as this," he defended, deep down knowing he might have been even worse. But, he and Y/N ended up dating. Poor Martin was desperate even for a reply.

"Whatever," Martin remarked and put his cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray. This small gesture reminded Lando why he was friends with this guy, the precious safe-space he managed to create. If there was a moment to act as a friend, it was this one.

"Shut up and let's get back to the track. We just gotta let loose a bit, that's all," he said, determined to get Martin out of the rut of his own head.

//

They'd been sitting for another hour, the sun long gone from their sight, two vodka soda's mixed from personal studio bar in, dozens of old tracks analyzed.

Martin played the middle section once again. Lando's head was mindlessly nodding into the beat they'd added and it was starting to look kind of good for the track. But it was not exceptional. And if Lando was trying to help Martin get the attention of some pseudo-pretentious alternative chick, they had to step up their game.

"Can you recall any track which uses the same level of tempo slow down? We could like, I dunno, look into why it works when other people did it and maybe something will come up." Lando often drew inspiration from other artists, something Martin usually hated. But, desperate times.

The racer watched the DJ and suddenly, as it was as if the musical equivalent of the DRS just hit him, his eyes went wide and he stood up.

"Of course!" Martin exclaimed and started pacing around the room. Lando was obviously surprised and kept still, hoping for the best, really. He watched his friend, walking back and forth around the room, deep in his own thoughts and searching for something on his phone.

"Yes! That's it," he finally said happily and put a song up to their loud speakers. The excited look he gave to Lando was almost scary. "You're gonna absolutely love this one," he continued with absolute confidence.

Lando prayed for this to be good, otherwise he was going to have to start getting worried about his friend's sanity, based on the crazy eyes.

The song started with a steady, four-on-the-floor beat (or that was what Lando had assumed). It was a typical 1980's techno track, fast, repetitive with a strong bass line.

But they were almost four minutes in and nothing that would stand out in any way was coming out of this track. Lando could not help but give Martin a doubtful look, not really getting what he was excited about. But Martin was there, nodding his head to the beat, in his own world. He must have sensed Lando's so-far-unimpressed expression, so he shot him a quick smile and gestured for him to wait. Finally, something started to happen and just like in Martin's new track, the music started to slow up on the tempo, quite dramatically. It got Lando somewhat hooked. And then-

And then! He thought he was imagining things. That his mind created sounds in his own head out of boredom.

Instead of a new instrumental added a vocal component was added. The most sensual female moan started to dominate the track, as the tempo kept slowing down. Lando felt his stomach dropped and hair and the back of his neck stand. It was sensual, almost vulgar in fact. Like some sort of elegant porn track playing over the original beat. Unapologetic. And it was increasing. What started as a somewhat socially acceptable sigh, turned into a full on orgasm moan - and as the music almost stopped, the female voice was taking on the main stage, full on peak. Thank God the walls were sound proofed. Lando cock was twitching. He tried to ignore Martin, who was grinning like a school boy first time seeing a porn video. And once the voice finally reached a peak, the music started to pick up, leftover moans cutting through the beat. Only then was Lando able to look Martin in the eye and got out of the semi-trance this track got him into. Finally the tempo fully picked up and the nine minute song was over.

"Uhh..." Lando got his initial reaction out and stared into the screen. Martin was there, unable to contain his laughter.

"You look flushed, mate, you good?" he teased, obviously pleased with himself for getting Lando out of his comfort zone.

Lando was finally getting back to Earth and couldn't help but to release a girl-like giggle. "Yeah, mate...I think if you do something like that, you will break the internet almost definitely."

What Martin could not know, because they did not have that kind of a relationship, was that Lando's phone was full of noise recordings of him and Y/N having sex. She was quite a vocal person. And he was a bit of a naughty boy, asked for a permission to record a sex tape nearly dozens of times. His girlfriend was probably right in refusing to do so, given the fact that if a video got out, it would be a disaster for both of them. But, an audio? One without any names mentioned? That was something she felt comfortable. And it as this thing Lando was using to get himself off when he was traveling alone for the past few months. So yeah, Martin hit the nail on its "head" with this one.

Lando gulped, trying to get himself back in the right headspace and not thinking of all the times Y/N screamed and moaned for him while bent over a table or laying in a silky bed.

"I fuckin' love this idea, mate. I'm gonna check with the lawyer team and see if I can go and sample this or something," Martin said, his tone indicating he was happy and done for the day.

"Yeah. This would work," Lando replied, unable to tone his voice down to his usual octave.

//

It was a surreal plane trip home to Monaco. They'd wrapped at the studio and Lando was headed directly to airport. This was proving to be unfortunate, as there was no time for him to go anywhere and take care of the problem growing in his pants. He had never listened to their voice notes in public, but he could not find any sort of self-restraint not to do so that day. Shamelessly walking around the private lounge area with a ragging boner and sex noises blasting in his headphones. He prayed for no fans showing up. At one point he was debating just beating it off in the airport bathroom. A teenager he had not been for a long time now.

And like a cruel joke, a voice memo landed in his messages from Y/N precisely at the time he as about to board his flight.

A part of him hoped it was a voice note of her jerking off. Sadly, it was not.

"Hey, my love, I hope you're all good and will make the flight. I've had such a boring day and can't wait to see you," she said a tone so sweet Lando felt almost guilty for walking around with thoughts of her on all fours, begging for his cock. It brought him back to normal, which was probably for the better. "Anyway, I'll be at home, let me know when you're coming." He smiled, loving the fact they were there for each other even in the innocent sort of way. "Aaah, what a day," she ended the voice note with a moan. A fucking tired sort of sigh. Normally, it would be a very casual thing for Lando. But did it sound like something out of their sex tapes? Of course it fucking did. "Mmmm.." And with that, the voice memo ended and Lando's boner was right back on.

//

"Hi, my love."

"Hello, sweetheart."

It was something he was proud about. Teaching her to sleep naked. Sleeping in clothes is close to committing a crime when she has a body like that. Clothes were for the outdoors anyway. It was doing something to his ego to see she fully accepted that. To his luck, he found Y/N just like he wanted - bare, snuggled up in their bed under a criminal amount of duvets, but most importantly, given his current state, still somewhat awake. She was giving his the most inviting look he'd ever seen on a human.

"Are you hitting the shower?" Y/N asked, pushing the duvet closer to her neck, as if to cover herself for some reason. Lando found that more than amusing and shook his head.

They'd exchanged few pleasantries, mundane questions while we was undressing and finally crawled into the bed with her. As a natural move, she shifted, letting him to be the big spoon. He caressed her hair before stepping in. Changed his tone from casual to bedroom. Finally.

"You and me baby, just us. How it's suppose to be."

Flirting was a second language to Lando and he was not afraid to use it.

"I see you kept the bed warm for us," he said, warmed his hands by blowing his hot breath on both of them. When he was sure that his body adapted from the chilly outdoors air to their hot flat, he started tracing lines on her body and pressed his crotch to her ass, to test her reaction, and see if he got lucky and caught her in the right mood.

He wouldn't be able to see it, due to the fact he was spooning her from behind, but her eyes shot wide open as his ragging boner pressed on her and a cheeky smile crept in. She answered by moving back to him, and arching her back. Loud, horny sighs from Lando followed.

"I see you've been a good boy, am I right?" she whispered sensually.

And fucking yes, he was a good boy. She'd often reward him when he manage to obstain from jerking off when they were suppose to see each other. If he had been hard before, they would need to come up with a new name for what he was experiencing after hearing his hard work being acknowledged.

He gulped, trying to keep his some cool in his voice. "You can guess twice," he challenged and pushed his body towards her, squeezing his dick between their bodies. She giggled and turned on her back to face him. Tried to kiss him slowly, but he was having none of that. Once the door was opened, he took the lead and kissed her with all of his pent up hunger. His hands were holding her jaw in place, as if she was going to slip away - which was the exact opposite of her plans. Soon enough she kissed back with similar urgency, roaming her hands on his chest and pulling his ever-so-curly hair.

"I need you," she whispered when he reached away to take in some air.

He grinned, happy to have some sort of level of upper hand, given how down bad he actually was.

"Have you been a good girl, sweetheart?" he asked, expecting the same answer he gave her. His cheeky fingers started exploring her upper thighs.

She waited a moment. "No, I haven't," bit her lip. This took Lando as a surprise and he opened his mouth in disbelief.

"Well, would you look at that..." he said, secretly loving this side of her. Horny little angel, getting herself off. In his mind, it was like she'd been training for him. He gripped her thigh, making her gasp.

"I think you might still find some evidence on the sheets," she whispered, and it was exactly that sound that was a turning point of Lando. He flipped over to tower her and slammed his lips towards hers. He opened her legs with his hands and started exploring her core - and it was exactly as she said it. Still wet from her on fingers, as he'd imagined.

"Well then, we'll do this on my terms. You understand?" he said in a playful tone. "What are you?"

She knew what answer he was looking for. "Bad girl," she sighed as he fingered her in a way that could not be described as gentle. Soft moans started escaping her mouth and that was the main thing Lando was longing for.

"And what am I? For keeping myself full for you?" he asked, trying to keep her on the edge with his moves.

Her eyes were now shut and her arms locked around his back, same as her legs. "Good boy," she sighed.

"Exactly. So do me a favour," he said, kissing her again, "be loud for me tonight. Make my ears ring and wake up the neighbours. Otherwise I'll make sure you don't get what a good girl gets." Both of them knew there was not a single cell in Lando willing to keep his empty promise. She was going to finish multiple times and he'd work for it the whole night if he had to.

Back arched. Lando's fingers doing the God's work. "Yes," she almost choked on her breath and let out an honest and beautiful sound.

It was already getting too much for Lando, he stroked himself few times and then slid into her wet cunt, as if it was his home.

And boy, was it better than any home he'd ever know. He warm wet, almost dripping cunt welcomed him in the sweetest of ways. Lando waited few seconds for both of them to adjust before he gripped her legs and swung them over his shoulders. It was a dance they'd practiced countless times before. She knew to clench her legs and provide support for him to be able to fully start launching into her.

He gave her one more lustfilled look before he thrusted for the first time. The thing he was specifically looking forward was the way how the breath escaped her throat in almost surprised way - as if she was not expecting this to happen. Pure pleasure overruled any thoughts he was having pretty quickly. The way her walls clenched over him was a sensation very few things could compare to. It was so easy to start moving faster and harder. He lived for the sight of her, lying down beneath him, eyes closed and finally, after few more perfectly placed movements, first moans started to escape her lips. He wanted more, tonight he needed it all. Speeding up, gripping her legs tighter. And with that, he watched as her boobs were bouncing back and forth, a sight so glorious he had to put one of his hands on it. All that she was somehow trying to hide in, started to come out. Face stuck in a scream like position, hands gripping Lando's arms and the most glorious of it all - the silent moans growing into muted screams. And once he added even more speed, those turned into unhinged screaks. He didn't even notice him own mouth stuck open. Breaths were getting heavier and heavier, drops of sweet sweat were falling on her torso and slowly Lando moved his hand over to from her boobs to the crease of her neck and squeezed just a little bit, the way he knew she liked. He didn't mind that the sound she made got a little muffled - he could feel the sound coming from her throat before it left her body.

And then finally, Lando felt almost a hot liquid hit his dick and gradually bounce over to his lower stomach as he moved even quicker than before, knowing well enough that when this happened to her, the incoming orgasm was about to be glorious. He thrusted, fully focused on her expressions and loud screams.

When her release happened seconds later, he nearly came himself. By some miracle, he managed to hold it of for just few more minutes. He kept thrusting, while he felt her body collapse momentarily, complete hard shut down. More liquid came out of her and Lando wished he could fuck and lick her at the same time.

And just like that, she was back again, panting hard and finally, eyes open once again. Her fucked out face challenging him once again. She smirked and tried as much as he could to keep up his tempo. It always took her one orgasm to bounce back and become more active. Lando wished he could go on for hours, but his dick almost begged him to allow the release. He wasn't gonna deny himself pleasure tonight.

"Say my name," she said in a loud demanding tone, stern look on her face. He wanted to chuckle, always finding it amusing how she went from almost a comatose princess to a challenging boss girl in seconds. After he made her come, of course. But Lando's mind was truly getting blurry at that point. He kept saying her name as like some sort of prayer as he carried himself to the heavenly release. It was the ultimate relief, dipping in a hot water, getting charged with electricity, tasting the sweetest drink, stepping into the hottest sunshine. Whatever kind of pleasure Lando could think of, nothing would ever mount to finally releasing it into her, especially after a long, oh so long, build up.

And with that, he fell next to her. Heave panting on both sides of the bed, before either of them spoke.

"All good? Are you ok?" he asked, just like he always did after they'd slept together. The thought of her not having a good time haunted him. He was aware that it sometimes came out more anxiously than he intended to, but who has a proper working brain after a sex session.

Y/N turned at him, blissful smile on her lips. "Oh yeah, baby. Love when you come home like this."

He smirked, getting some of the blood back to his brain. "Hmm, I also love coming home."

Their fucked out minds chuckled at the stupid joke. He gathered all the remaining strenght, got up and cleaned her up.

"Oh God, I've missed you," she complained into the no quiet room, still filled with sex air.

"You have no idea, how much I did, sweetheart."

//

It had been a good few weeks before Lando found himself once again in Martin's studio. This time Y/N was able to join him on the iconic couch. They sat, her legs relaxed over his, Lando's hand stroking her shins innocently. Physical touch boy if there ever was one.

Light banter laced the evening, few sips from Martin's signature vodka sodas and general lightness of the company were bound to end up with Martin sharing his latest relationship news. The alternative girl he met in Germany? Yeah, that was over. However, the track was definitely not.

"Ok, but like, I'd never seen you this anxious about a new track before," Y/N spoke, feeling like there was something these two guys were walking around, somewhat afraid to say hat it was.

Martin and Lando shared a look. There was not a single bone in Lando's body that was afraid of Y/N reaction to this track. He way in fact dying to know what Martin has done with it in the past few weeks. Martin was not allowed by his label to send any demos, only to show them in person. Well, he was not even allowed that, but it's not like they were there with them in the room. Martin raised his brows while looking at Lando, as if to look for a permission. Lando nodded, secretly looking forward to seeing what Y/N had to say about their newest idea.

"Well, I'm actually still working on a track we tried to finish when your boyfriend was here the last time," he said reluctantly.

"Yeah mate, I'm stoked to hear what you recorded," Lando said, trying to add some entusiasm to Martin's speech.

Martin's face formed a small frown. "Well, I'm worried, mate. Listen for yourself, it might be just me hearing this track for too many times. But, I'm afraid it does not work."

This took Lando by surprise - he was full on expecting a hot, sexy banger.

Martin did not add anything and upon Y/N's plea for finally play it and with zero protests on Lando's side, he did just that.

So they listened to the almost six minute track. The instrumentals were basically in the exact same state as when Lando was there for the last time. Intrigue filled his body as the tempo slow down came - it must have been time for the moaning to start. He could not wait to see Y/N's reaction. Was there a chance she would actually be mad and consider it tacky?

He didn't let her out of his sight, no matter how much Martin tried to catch his eye. Y/N sat there, her usual focused face on, as per any other time they'd listen to a new track.

And just like that, it took Lando only few bars of the part with the moans to understand where Martin's disinterest came from. This wasn't the right vibe. There was absolutely no comparison to the original track they'd based this on. It was a weak mockery of that whole idea. Sounded cheap, almost fake and with no atmosphere whatsoever. A face of slight disgust formed on Lando's face and he temporarily forgot he was watching Y/N for her reaction. They finally exchanged a look with Martin, both knowing this was just not working. While the girl moaning into the track had a perfect pitch, something was just not right.

Only when the moans and sighs part of the track ended he noticed the look on his girlfriends face and started actually feeling embarrassed. Will she think this as his idea and that he is a pervy simpleton? That he actually likes this?

He started his defense before she'd have any time for a reaction.

"That's not good, mate," he stated the more than obvious. Martin nodded, his expression hard to decipher. "It was not meant to sound this cheap."

"Yeah, don't know what to tell you. We recorded this with like two other producers in the room, this girl is apparently a good porn actress with a perfect pitch. But it sounds just like that. Like, I wanted to create a hot track, this is just cheap and kind of sad."

Lando gulped, almost fearing Y/N's reaction.

And boy, was she staring at him. It almost caught him of guard. Definitely silenced him. If he had to describe it, it would something along the lines of shooting arrows. Lando felt very small. But then, like by some sort of miracle, the corner of her lip turned up and a cheeky smile started to form. Martin knew more than interfere in their silent conversations and turned around to leave them be. A shot of confidence went though Lando's bloodstream and he gave Y/N a questioning look. Almost wanting to challenge her to say something. She shot her eyebrows up and tried to bite her smile away. Lando played dumb and shook his head, as if he did not understand. With that, she nodded toward his phone that was lying next to his hips. Lando's eyes went wide and his heart rate went up. Is she really suggesting this?

Out of nowhere, her look still firm on Lando - who stopped blinking a long time ago - she spoke, probably more to Martin than her boyfriend.

"I love the idea, and I think it could catch on really well. But like you said. You can't fake that if it's suppose to be good. Any girl will se right through this anyway."

Was Lando about to fall in love all over again?

"So what, am I suppose to pay someone to fuck in the studio?"

The silence that followed was a heavy, awkward, hot and hilarious one. Many looks were exchanged between the three of them before, as they say, all the pennies dropped.

"Oh my God," Martin exclaimed. Neither Lando or Y/N reacted in any verbal way, however Lando did raise his eyebrows in order to stop his smile from growing. Failing at that miserably. Suddenly, he was more than aware of Y/N legs near his crotch.

Martin shook his head, as if he became prudent out of nowhere and spun on his chair few times, most likely thinking it over. Lando was about to step in to ease the tension, but Y/N was faster.

"It would be the easiest way to test if the track works, just saying," she commented and Lando tried to stay as still as possible, almost worried that if he moves to much, he might wake up.

To potentially have his girlfriends orgasm voice blasted anonymously in clubs all around the world was doing some thing to his semi-exhibicionist persona, which he had to keep buried deep down. Things he had a lot of trouble admitting to outloud.

The conversation was continuing, no matter how spaced out and horny Lando became.

"Ok, say it works. Are you ok with this staying on the track?" Martin asked Y/N only. He knew his mate well enough to figure he'd be more than fine with it.

Y/N seemed to think about it, in a serious way, for few moments. The air felt oh-so-heavy to Lando. Please, say yes. Both of you.

"As long as it stays anonymous and nobody else, not even your label ever finds out, I say we go and give it a try," she answered and turned over to her boyfriend. He knew the look she had on her face more than well. It was the same one she'd have after agreeing to press record on their personal sex voice memos. And it was doing things to him.

It looked like Martin was coming around with the idea.

"Fuck it, ok then. I guess, I'll just press the button and give you guys some space in the recording room. But like, bare in mind I only need her, not you," he hinted over to Lando, "and for the sake of our friendship, I'd really appreciate if you kept it clean in terms of dirty talk. I don't want this to be the reason I died. Also no...mess please. Ugh."

Lando downed his drink, still unable to believe this was happening, and finally spoke again. "I'm sure there is a way to make sure we get only Y/N's voice."

Images flooded their heads - for Y/N very much wanted, to perfectly contrast Martin's reaction, who was sitting on the complete opposite of the excitement spectrum.

"Ok, let's go with it before I change my mind," Martin said and began prepping the recording room.

Lando squeezed his girlfriends hand, to make sure she was really ok with it.

"I love you," he whispered, unable to hold it in.

"Me too. I'm happy you don't think of me as slutty or perverted," she replied, hint of shame for the first in a long time creeping on her face.

"I would never....We can stop whenever, if you stop feeling it, ok? Please promise you'll let me know."

There was a look on her face he couldn't put a name on. "Thank you."

Martin coughed demonstrateively. "Lando, come over. I'll tell you what to do." Lando eyebrows shot up once again. "Not like that, with the recording, you weirdo," Martin exhaled, already regretting the decision.

//

"So, the recording is on, have a good one, I guess," were Martin's last words before Y/N was about to have a series of little deaths.

And with the click of the door, they were alone. Deep dark silence. Never before has she seen Lando stare at her this much like a hunter would at his prey. His good name was on the line. Maybe not for the whole world, but he had to show his best bud he can make his girl come. And perhaps something more than that.

The room was small, light dimmed out.

"So, what do you have in mind?" she asked softy, still not quite in the same feral mood Lando was in. He crossed over the distance between them slowly to put a finger on her mouth.

"No words, remember?" he reminded himself probably more than her. His plan was never to fuck her here. She'd soon find that out.

With ease and confidence only those who kissed each other countless of times, he locked his lips with hers. His hand in the back of her hair, pulling, not gently. Her tongue rolled over his and she bit his upper lip, to return the favor perhaps. Her head bent back and he follow the train to her collarbone with pecks. With ease, he started walking her over to the chair here the recording artist would usually sit. Today, she'd be the main act and he her muse. She was regretting not wearing a skirt that day. He saw no issue when he pulled her jeans down. He was already hard and just had to squeeze himself for few times, a mindless action. No doubt in his mind that before the night calls quits that day, he'd see his own release. She noticed his moves and tried to get in on the action, only to somewhat wake him up from his own selfishness as he stopped her hands reaching his crotch. Another head shake - hopefully, this time she'd get the hint.

Her eyes were filled with hot wanderlust and with that, she gave up on trying to take the lead. He smiled and got rid of her panties as well.

Two strong hands popped her up on the round chair with no back rest. One last kiss on the lips before he knelt down. Stomach tingled with anticipation. Lando was taking his time, slowly kissing his way up her legs. The ever so blue, green and whatever colored eyes glowing with lust. He stopped at the spot where thighs and knees bend, his tongue finally out, as if for a practice run. Only recently he found out about her secret soft spot. He watched her face relax and give in, first pleasure arriving. He was the moon and her body a shore, waiting for the waves.

Long heavy breath. Lando wanted, needed more. He progressed further and further, until the only place left to go were her folds and wet core. But before that, he didn't for get to leave few bite marks on her upper thighs. Quick catch of breath and her hands buried in his curls. Watching him as if the gods had sent him to ruin her.

And they might have. Normally, he's utter few cheeky lines before dipping his tongue deep into her, but the looks were all he could use this time.

Relaxed and come for me, baby. Drip all over this chair and make them know I can make you scream.

His tongue could as well be completely dry and it would not matter. They way how he was all over her got her wet anyway. His moves were never the same, yet they always worked like magic. He twisted, pulled in and out and all over. Slight bite at her less sensitive folds. Clit suck. And then he called upon his fingers to assist. She was barely sitting on the chair, legs fully rested on his shoulders, priorities loud and clear. As were her moans she didn't notice at first. She had to support herself with her arm, squeezing the weak leather top of the chair. Her other hand was busy with pushing Lando's face towards her. First tide started to arrive. Lando drew his head back to catch some breath - and she let him, because his fingers became the main act. He made sure to hold the tempo, knowing that would work like volume increase button. Was there a more beautiful sight than watching a woman you love hit the highs of life? Lando very much doubted. Judging by the way her face clenched, she must have forgotten the why and where. Her throat served like a gateway to pleasure sounds. And she screamed, more and even more once he sucked her clit again.

They call it little deaths because it might just be the only accurate description of what washed over her. If wasn't often he'd go down on and not fuck her shortly afterwards. Since that was out of the picture, she focused fully on his moves, knowing this was the peak.

He felt her relax after a particularly loud scream. Coming down to Earth once again. She opened her eyes and he smirked. He knew, by the way she tried to steady his breath and the slight movement of her supporting hand that she considered it "job done". She nodded and head and he shook his once again. Her puzzling look quickly replaced by a lip bite as his mouth traveled back to her core.

One more round, one could say Lando's ego was becoming the main hero of this story. The thought of somebody having to go and listen to another round of him destroying his girl with pleasure was an intoxicating one.

//

Martin's track was an instant hit and minor shock to the public. Never before has he released something so explicit. Y/N's screams were out for the whole world to listen and it did a wonder to their sex life. It was something else to fuck and blast your own love soundtrack on.

There were two main versions release, one less explicit, for the DJ's to play around the radio during the day and for club goers to party to during the night.

Lando stopped counting how many times it happened that in the middle of the day he'd hear this song around the paddock radio. Whenever he did, he would send Y/N a photo with a cheeky wink, and she'd do the same when she had the luck of listening to her own voice in public like that. A nice, somewhat innocent tradition for them only to understand.

//

Keep you friends close and rivals closer. That's how Lando ended up at one of the many celebrations of Max Verstappen's title celebrations. Little did he mind, secretly loving the fact the pressure was off him for a moment. Expensive alcohol flowing freely also helped.

He found himself sitting in a VIP booth across from Max, by some stroke of luck, alone. And of course, that was the first time he slipped up. Somehow he managed to avoid a situation when someone who knew him well was around when Martin's monaco kiss came up.

"the recording is on, have a good one, I guess"

Martin decided to keep his own line in the intro, only later admitting he'd re-recorded it out of his own insecurity. Which Lando found very amusing, given the fact him and Y/N only needed one take to get it right perfectly.

His stomach dropped a bit when he heard the now iconic opening line. Shifted a bit to regain some composure. Sipping a drink might help to hide his slight panic and lack of any real light did not allow his blushed cheeks to go noticed.

Across from him, Max was nodding his feet to the beat of the track. The conversation grew stale a moment while, so Max's complimentary comment on Lando's friend's track must have been intended as an innocent ice-breaker.

"what do you have in mind"

Another line kept in from the recording. Y/N's real voice hidden under many layers of autotune to keep her identity anonymous. As per her wish and Lando's secret regret.

The tempo started to slow down. Anyone would remember the track by heart if they'd listened to it the same amount of times as Lando had. Words were lost on him and he did not find a response to Max's comment. Very unusual from Lando. He sipped his now empty drink, hoping more liquid had magically appeared. Max noticed something was off. And then the key jump, straight out the book Diet Pepsi took inspiration from. Followed by the peak moan, or maybe a scream, from his girl for everyone to hear. It was not supposed to be this arousing. Max tilted his head and after another few beats, his intense stare aimed at his rival/friends went wide.

Lando tried to stop his smirk. He really did.

Max's mouth went open and he stopped his breath before uttering a simply lovely, slightly astonished: "No way."

Lando averted his gaze to the crowd below in order to avoid Max, who chuckled and took a big gulp of his not-empty glass.

If the lights went on, everybody would be able to see a bright red Lando. He was never going to break his promise about keeping this a secret, so he did not comment. But he grinned at Max's nod of approval.

He excused himself as went to the bar. Searching for his girl.

Light brush on her waist made her turn, wonder in her eyes easing when she saw it was him. They were both in the same horny headspace.

He leaned in and whispered, as much as one can whisper in a club, the last few beats of their track playing. "You sound so hot, baby. I'm so down bad for you."

Tipsy, she shot him a wide smile and mouthed a silent "i love you".

[logans-whore]

I can't stop thinking of Logan. With a reader who has no/very little experience with dating

I’m talking no relationship other than the one “boyfriend” you have when you’re twelve that you dump in a week because boys are gross. 

And this is absolutely me projecting, but when you go so long without having anyone attracted, or interested in you, it fucks with your brain. You start wondering what’s wrong with you, why no one seems to want you, you try everything but still. And you watch everyone around you have their teenage love stories, and can’t help but feel like you’re missing out on that, and can't help but blame yourself. Because there must be something wrong with you if no one wants you

So when Logan seems to be interested in you, you don’t think it can be real. Don’t think a guy as handsome, and sexy, and brave and strong and wonderful as he is can be interested in you.

(And this next bit is specifically for my chubby readers) You look at the other girls on the team, and yeah you’ve been told multiple times that you’re gorgeous, and stunning and pretty by your friends, but you look at their flat stomachs and thigh gaps and the way they fill out their costumes perfectly, and you wonder why on Earth Logan would ever want someone like you when he could have someone like them. And conclude it's a joke of some kind.

And maybe you talk too much, rambling about something only to stop in the middle when you realize not a single person is listening to you.

Logan on the other hand? Has no fucking clue how someone hasnt snatched you up yet. Because to him you are absolutely fucking incredible. You’re kind, sweet and gentle. You’re clever and talented and absolutely stunning. He loves looking at you, at how soft and beautiful you are, loves listening to you talk, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love. 

So when you first whirl on him, telling him to stop flirting with you, it isn’t a funny joke anymore, nearly in tears, he’s genuinely dumbfounded.

And let's get one thing straight. This man is not oblivious. He looks at more than he seems to. Notices the way you stare longingly at Jean and Scott, or Rogue and Gambit, at couples in public. See the way you suck in your tummy when around the team in costume, or the way you crop yourself out of pictures in uniform. Notices the way your face falls when you’re talking (And he’s listening, of course he's listening, he loves hearing you talk), and everyone just ignores and talks over you. He notices, and he hates it. 

So when you explain, pouring out all your doubts and insecurities and fears, he listens patiently, before gently saying. 

“Most people are fuckin idiots. You think I give a shit about if you have a tummy or if you talk too much or if you haven't done this before? You’re fucking stunning to me, prettiest thing in the world. I want you, darlin’. And nothings ever gonna change that”

And how can you not kiss him after that? 

Long story short, Logan might be your first boyfriend, but he's also going to be your first husband.

[ghostickle]

I’m impatient and dying (<- has had literal years to get these tattoos done and just procrastinated finding a good tattoo shop)

[boygirlctommy]

oh god i was redrawing my first (unfinished) animatic and now its 1:30 am. uhm. goodnight <3

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝔾��𝕠𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝

𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: dom!rafe, possessive!rafe, softbf!rafe, pet names, swearing, dirty talk, icky “boy talk” at the beginning (not by rafe), protective rafe, boys tease the reader when she's not there, they see a picture of her in lingerie, they start a video of rafe and the reader having sex but rafe takes it from them, ownership kink, kissing, unprotected public p in v, butt plug, praise, cum tasting, wet and messy, squirting, cockwarming

All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! After a few drinks at a hockey party, Rafe gets teased about what a good girl you are, but Rafe knows the truth 💋

Masterlist

Reader's POV:

The basement of the hockey house is alive, post-game with a rowdy crowd. Cheap keg beer spills from red SOLO cups, the packed basement wall to wall with a mix of jerseys and ugly sweaters.

Rafe kicks his feet up, relaxing on the oversized couch with the boys, half-watching some hockey game as they shoot the shit. “Damn,” Alex groans, his wicked smirk glowing in the light of his phone. He zooms in on the screen, smiles, and tosses his head back.

“Jesus Christ,” Kemper hums as he looks at the message Alex got, lifting his phone to “snap” a picture of his—just givin’ Alex hell. “Get outta here,” he shoves him away with a laugh.

“She looks better in that jersey than you,” Kemper shoots back.

“No shit,” Alex pulls it up again, adjusting himself a second later. “She stole my jersey yesterday… Sent me that pic as a congratulations, I guess,” he smiles proudly.

“Where’s Max?” Kemper asks, eyes scanning your group before looking over the back of the couch into the crowd.

“Left about five minutes ago with Lexi,” Rafe adds. “He’s gone for the night.”

“Lucky bitch,” Kemper mumbles against the lip of his can before draining his beer.

“You that desperate, Kemp?” Rafe taunts, lifting an eyebrow in his direction, half-hiding his smirk with his drink.

“Fuck you, Cameron,” he clips as he crumples up his can, tossing the empty drink at JJ. “It’s his fuckin’ fault,” he gestures to Maybank, giving him the finger. “He stole her.”

“Stole her my ass. She wanted me. Not my fault either. You're a goalie, man. Maybe you could switch positions and get pussy from time to time-”

“I get pussy!” Kemper cuts JJ off, cracking another beer open.

“Sure you do,” Rafe taunts, just stoking the fire. Attention naturally falls back to him, the boys ramping up to knock him down a peg. He stretches his big arms along the back of the couch, just waiting for the shit-talking to start.

“Yo, Rafe,” Alex calls out, and Rafe snorts out a laugh, rolling his eyes at the predictability.

“Yeah, man. Get on with it,” Rafe chuckles between sips of beer.

“What about your girl? How long has it been… three, four, five months?” Alex slurs.

“Since what, bud?”

“Since what?” He barbs, mocking Rafe like he knows the first thing about you. “Since you got your dick wet. What do you mean, ‘since what’?

The group erupts in laughter, Rafe's lips curling into an amused smile. He doesn't bat an eye— not hurrying to respond, either.

"She's perfect; that's all you need to know," he replies smoothly. He takes off his cap and runs his fingers through his hair before turning it to the back.

"Come on, man," another chimes in, clearly not letting it go. "That’s it… That’s all we’re gettin’? Is it that fuckin’ bad?”

“M’sorry, Rafey,” Kemper chuckles, shooting him a crooked look.

The teasing continues, but Rafe just leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares them down, the picture of calm confidence. “You guys have no clue what you’re talkin’ about,” he speaks, his voice calm and smug.

“Sure we don’t,” Kemper laughs. “You tuck her in after the game or what?”

“She’s around here somewhere,” Rafe smiles, glancing at his phone again before setting it on the counter. He smiles to himself, recalling how you sucked his dick on the car ride home from the game; the man fucking you five inches from your life in the shower when you got back.

As much as you loved the side he showed you when no one was watching—soft and sweet. He loved the side of you that no one else got to see as well… filthy and insatiable, your sex drive giving Rafe a run for his money. Rafe didn't need to defend you—or himself. He knows the truth.

“What are you thinkin’ about, Cameron?” JJ asks, catching Rafe smilin—your boyfriend shrugging before he takes a swig of beer.

“None of your fuckin’ business, Maybank,” Rafe laughs.

The conversation drifts back to the topic of conquests, JJ bragging about the girl he snuck on the bus on the last away game, the two fuckin’ in the backseat all the way home.

Rafe’s phone lights up, buzzing on the coffee table. The screen with your name plastered on the front of it shines like a beacon.

"Uh oh,” Kemper pipes, “lover boy's got a text?”

Rafe unlocks the screen and smiles, spreading a little wider. “What the fuck?” He clips as Alex picks the phone out of his hand.

"Let's see what kind of cute little texts your girl sends, huh?” His voice trails away as he looks at the screen, wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open as he catches you in nothing but black lace.

"What?" The others clamor, pushing towards Alex to get a better look.

”C’mon,” Alex whines as JJ plucks the phone off his hands, taking it for himself.

“Goddamn,” Maybank groans as he zooms in.

“Enough, man. What the fuck,” Rafe scoffs as he reaches for it. JJ quickly slides his finger across Rafe’s screen, skimming through the camera roll to find more.

Before Rafe can grab it, JJ lofts it to the next boy, slightly out of Rafe’s reach. Kemper flicks his fingers as well, his eyes doubling when he finds something new.

"Fuckkk, there's a video!" He responds excitedly, one hand gripping the phone, the other extended, fighting Rafe off as he tries to get the device back.

Your sweet moan rips through the phone’s speakers, sending the boys into a frenzy. Rafe's easygoing expression changes in an instant. His smile remains in place, but a razor-sharp edge of possession colors his movements as he stands up, snatching the phone back before they could play any more than a few seconds.

“You like that?” You breathe—your soft, sultry voice echoing faintly through the device before Rafe locks his phone.

The group falls silent, eating their words, struck dumb and speechless as they see a side of you they didn’t imagine existed.

"Like I said," Rafe drawls as he pops another beer, "you've got no idea what you're talkin’ about."

Before the boys can recover, a voice breaks through the haze. “Hey, baby,” you hum. All eyes shifting to you.

The group turns together, watching you step toward the party; your beautiful eyes lock on Rafe’s. He shifts slightly, extending a hand, quickly pulling you onto his lap with a smile. You drape your arm around his neck, Rafe’s arms dressing around your waist, his eyes matching yours, making your stomach flutter.

"Ready to go, baby?" You ask playfully, your intentions for the rest of the night clear in your tone.

“Always,” Rafe smiles as he wets his lip, leaning in for a kiss.

He doesn't hesitate, following you through the crowded hallway, his hand resting on the small of your back to keep you close. The two of you climb the stairs, ducking under tacky Christmas decorations and weaving around people playing beer games at the kitchen table.

Rafe grabs two Coors, popping open one for you and one for him. He sets it down and grabs you by your waist, lifting you onto the counter, moving between your thighs, tilting closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. You know that?” He asks, his voice low and sweet.

“So are you, baby.” You lean in, pressing a tender kiss against his lips.

“Would you kill me if I told you they saw that picture you sent me?” He asks.

“Rafey…” You laugh gently against his lips, pecking at them again. “You’re givin’ away all my secrets, baby.”

“M’sorry-”

“ I don’t care,” you smile, gently brushing your lips against his. “Let ‘em know what a slut I am for you…”

“You are, aren’t you, princess?”

“Mhmm,” you hum against his lips before sucking off the bottom, making him groan against your lips.

“… You still wearin’ it, baby?” He drawls.

“You told me to be a good girl and keep it in... What do you think?” You flirt.

“Fuckin’ love you,” he hums.

Rafe wraps his arm around you, lifting you off the counter, pulling you through the packed living room: bodies upon bodies, wall to wall, the air thick with heat and booze—music blares from the speakers, pulsing in your chest.

Rafe crashes down on his favorite chair, the two of you snuggling up in the dark corner. His big hands slide up your thighs immediately, gripping your hips as your lips meet.

“I’m the luckiest man here,” he hums as his hands shift your ass, squeezing tight. One of his hands falls lower before rising again, drifting under your skirt.

Rafe rubs his fingers over your pussy, teasing your entrance over your lace panties, soaking them thoroughly. His rough hands trace up your ass, pressing against the plug, making you whimper against his lips.

“Mmm… Good girl,” he breathes. Rafe draws back enough to meet your gaze, making chills run down your spine. "You got no clue what you do to me,” he hums.

Your fingers scratch into the hair at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you should show me.”

His eyes fall to your lips—his lusty smile spreading, matching your own. Rafe moves closer, burying himself in your neck, kissing higher and higher. His heavy breathing hits your ear, making your pussy throb. “Right here…” Rafe mumbles. “Let me put my cock in, princess.”

“You’re gonna fuck me right here?” You giggle dizzily, making him chuckle as well, pulling you in tighter.

“You gonna let me?”

“You know I will…” You coo.

“Thought so… Fuckin’ though? Maybe that's a little risky, even for us. You're just gonna keep me warm for a while…” He lies.

“That’s it?” You ask teasingly as you slip your hand between the two of you, cupping his stiff bulge, making him moan in your ear.

“What—you want more?” He taunts, giving it right back to you.

“I always want more,” you whisper. You slip out of his lap, turning around, facing the crowd, the lot lost in their own worlds. Rafe grabs your chin and turns your face, claiming your lips as he adjusts, pulling his pants down enough to release his aching cock.

His thick dick slaps against his shirt. You reach behind your back, wrapping your hand around him, stroking slowly. Rafe throws his head back on the chair, letting you work him in your fist, thumb skimming over his fat tip. You look over your shoulder, meeting his gaze as you put it between your plump lips, sucking it clean.

Rafe lifts your skirt slightly, pushing your panties to the side. You rise slightly as Rafe seizes his dick in his big hand, swirling around your soaked hole. You claw at the armrests, listening to Rafe hiss out a breath as you sink on his long cock inch by inch.

“Shit,” you whimper as you release your hands, fully sat, adjusting your skirt, feeling Rafe throb inside you.

He moves closer, wrapping strong his arms around your body, tucking himself in your neck. “Pussy’s just made for me, baby,” he breathes, hot against your neck.

You look out into the crowd, but no one is the wiser. Rafe turns your face again, pushing his lips against yours. Your clench around his cock, and he moans against your lips. His hands shift along your body, brushing over your tits, moving down your stomach, slipping just under your shirt.

He presses down on your stomach, making your thigh draw in. “M’so fuckin’ deep,” he whispers as he pushes again, making you gasp against his lips as he feels his own cock.

Rafe’s other hand moves lower, his two long fingers finding your clit over your clothes. Your eyes scan the crowd; the two of you are still in the clear as Rafe starts spiraling his fingers on your sex.

You know you should stay still, not wanting to give yourselves away, but you can help but circle your hips ever so slightly, grinding your wet cunt on Rafe’s lap with his cock buried so deep.

Rafe grabs your hips, his biceps, and forearms, flexing as he pulls you down as hard as he can, making your nails drive into his skin to keep from crying out as he splits you apart. Your head falls forward from the pressure between your thighs.

Your wetness drools from your tight hole, wetting the place between the two of you, making you both a sticky mess. He lifts your hips slightly, fucking up into your slick center, making your eyes roll back.

Rafe belts his arms around your waist, pulling you into him again as you feel your pleasure about to erupt; pussy tightening around him.

“Me too, baby. Me too,” he pants. “Do that thing you were doin’, huh? Grind f’me. Make a fuckin’ mess,” he mumbles. You roll your hips into him, panting against his lips, not caring who sees at this point, more concerned with your pleasure and his.

Your movements start to get sloppy as you lose control. Rafe grabs your hips, coaxing you to the edge. You gush around his cock, creaming and cumming with him, swallowing each other's moans between deep kisses.

The two of you breathe rapidly against each other's lips, little whimpers falling from yours in sensitivity as you feel his pulsing cock move deep in your guts, his cum and the plug making you feel incredibly full.

Rafe pulls you back on his chest, the two of you exchanging sweet kisses as you come down from your bliss. You giggle against his lips, and he smiles against yours at what the two of you just did. You’re shameless display of affection doing nothing but bringing you closer.

He helps you off his cock, buttoning up his pants before guiding you to stand. Before you can step away, he binds his arm around you, pulling you in, lips finding your neck. A sharp gasp and a throaty moan leave your mouth as you feel a loss.

“Why don’t we say goodnight to the boys and head to bed, yeah?” He asks as he tucks the butt plug in his back pocket. You feel the sensation of his warm cum slipping out of your puffy hole and your ass, dripping down your inner thigh. “I wanna be leakin’ out of you when we do, princess.”

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Word Count: 4.7 k

Warnings:

“Get back ‘ere,” Lt. Simon Riley’s deep voice bellows angrily at the back of your quickly fleeing head as you storm clench fisted out of his private quarters before it disappears from his sight for a moment as you slam his door behind you so hard that it bounces off the frame and swings back open. He has no clue where you’re off to, but by the direction you’re headed, it looks like you’re going straight towards the parking lot. 

God dammit, this isn’t how this is supposed to go. He curses himself for the way his emotions get the best of him sometimes and especially right now.

A mess of heavy breaths and barred teeth, you try to ignore the boot steps barreling towards you from behind. Nothing and no one is going to stop you from getting out of here and away from him, so you keep your face down, eyes staring at the long shadow of your body splaying out in front of you as the sun slips down further to the horizon. When you do finally look up your car is close and getting closer; good. You need to get off this fucking base to calm down before you explode in rage and do something stupid…like put your fist through a wall.

Again the lieutenant calls out your name to your fading figure with no luck and watches as you reach your vehicle without even acknowledging him anymore. It’s no use, you’re gonna take off no matter what he does, so finally he gives up with a loudly growled “fuckin’ hell” in agitation just as you reach out for the handle, storming back into the room with another loud bang as the door shuts and stays closed this time. 

The noise makes the tension in your chest ease as you get in the driver’s seat and buckle up; at least he’s decided to actually leave you alone for now. Risking a quick glance back at the bare front of his closed door one more time you harshly turn the key in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot, screeching wheels and a flurry of gravel the only sign of your exit. 

“God dammit,” you mutter to yourself under your breath, your knuckles gripping into the steering wheel until they are white as you make your way up to the security booth to get cleared to leave. “What the fuck was that? Christ, he was angry. Has he lost his goddamn mind? Why does he think I have to put up with his shit?”

The guards at the stand can see the fury in your eyes as you roll up to the gate and they are quick to guide you through, not wanting to be on the receiving end of whatever has got you in a mood. They share a look between them after you drive off as somehow it feels like they’ve dodged a bullet, but that relief is short lived as not even ten minutes later the next person to come up to their gate has the same sour expression, except this one is partially shielded inside a jet black motorcycle helmet and black balaclava. 

Those eyes though…if looks could kill, the guards know they would have already dropped dead.

“Lieutenant,” one of them nods briskly as the motorcycle comes to a stop and the visor on the helmet is aggressively opened to reveal its occupant, “y-your good to go.”

Simon flips the visor back down with a single flick from his hand and revs the engine on his bike to peel away from the booth like a rocket towards the setting sun, headed in the same direction you had just gone minutes before. Faster and faster he pushes the engine; thank fuck there’s only one way you can go and if he makes sure to speed, he’s confident that he’ll catch up to you quick enough.

And then what? Simon’s anger is still blinding and he hasn’t thought that far ahead. All he knows is that he can’t just leave it like this and until you listen, he isn’t going to give up.

Your eyes are locked on the road, but it feels like you’re driving more by instinct rather than by sight as the only thing you can see right now is red. Simon’s harsh accusations swirl about in your head on repeat; not a good soundtrack to quiet your anger. This is not how you thought this day was going to end.

He had caught you headed back to your barracks and asked to speak. If you knew it was going to be an ambush for him to unload on you about something that was none of his business, you would have done everything to get out of letting him lead you inside his room. He didn’t even give you the chance to get a word in, to defend yourself, just kept spewing his heated thoughts about what he believed you were doing until finally you were able to get out.

If only he knew the truth… whatever, it didn’t matter now. You wouldn’t be kept on a short leash by someone who didn’t care.

You aren’t sure how many miles you’ve gone before you notice a motorcycle driving right behind you. They seem to be glued onto your bumper, keeping pace with you as you switch lanes, and when you make a sudden right and another directly after, they are still behind you and now you’re sure; you know that bike and its rider. 

How the fuck did he get behind you so fast? 

Simon flashes his lights at you before throwing on his blinker to indicate that he wants you to pull over, but you aren’t on base and don’t feel like following his orders right now. Let him chase after you for a little while more, that’s what he deserves. Who knows, maybe he’ll realize that this is a fucking stupid idea and he should really head back. Wishful thinking; you know him too well to even pretend that he’ll give up when he has his mind set on something. 

A few more miles and again he hits his lights; he’s not going to stop following you until you give him what he wants. He knows he came at you too strong before, but he isn’t done with the conversation. He is compelled to put a stop to this before it gets any more out of hand, he has to. One more time, he flashes his lights.

“Really, Simon? I don’t want to fucking do this,” you curse him in a mumble with a scoff. Looking into your rearview mirror, you throw up your hands in defeat to silently indicate you’re ready to get this over with, wherever he decides to take this. It’s almost dark now anyway; you can get this done and then immediately head down to the bar to grab a much needed drink.

Up ahead is the abandoned parking lot of an old grocery store that looks like it has been closed for some time. Simon speeds up to get ahead of you to act as a guide and you throw your blinker on and turn in. He leads you towards the back of the store and away from the street and the traffic; more privacy for you to ‘talk’. 

Great, more yelling, you think as you put the car in park before coming to a full stop. You scramble out in a huff and slam the door shut so hard that the windows vibrate.

“What?” you say between gritted teeth, leaning up against your car as you wait for him to get off his bike; you’re gonna make him come to you. 

He removes his helmet, setting it carefully on the handlebars before stalking over to where you stand. “I said I wasn’t going to talk about this anymore,” you continue on in the same heated tone, “so why are you following me? What the fuck do you want now?”

“That’s really how you’re gonna talk ta me?” he questions, matching your energy. “I’m still your fuckin’ lieutenant.” 

“That’s how I talk to assholes so stick their fucking noses where they don’t belong and then get mad when they don’t like what they find,” you return, crossing your arms across your chest to hide how labored your breathing is from your anger. You don’t want him to know just how much he’s gotten under your skin, even though you know your face is probably giving it all away anyway. 

He told himself to stay calm, but there is no helping the emotional reaction he has that causes him to immediately match your energy and the fight picks right back up as if it never stopped. “Oh, is that right?” he growls. “I’m tha asshole? And what the fuck does that make ya, princess?”

“Don’t turn this back on me,” you press the matter. “I didn’t do anything; you’re the one that has the problem. I just don’t understand why you can’t let it go. Do you not have anything better to do than get in my personal life?” 

Simon licks his lips behind his mask to keep him from losing the shred of composure he has left. “Better watch it, luv.”

You’re done with him, his attitude, and this conversation. “I will say it again, so maybe you’ll finally get it through your thick skull. What I do in my free time is my business. You have no right to confront me about anything.”

“I think I do,” he returns.

“Why? Because we hooked up a couple of times? That doesn’t give you the right to act like we’re a couple,” you say heatedly. “We agreed that it was we needed at the time to let off some steam, that the couple times it happened meant nothing. Now you’re acting like a fucking child just because I enjoy having company?”

Your blood is boiling now because he’s doing all this without having the facts. This supposed company you are entertaining isn’t even real, it is all a rumor started by a rejected private with nothing better to do, but you aren’t about to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know because it shouldn’t matter; you’re not together, never were, and he has no right to any knowledge about what you do behind closed doors. 

This is the type of arrangement he wanted after all, no strings attached. His idea, not yours, so why the possessiveness all of a sudden? After all you had done to make sure your feelings on the matter never got out it only makes you more irate to feel like a caged animal; damned if you do, damned if you don’t. 

Because what you really want is standing right in front of you and you can’t have it.

“Ya couldn’t even tell me ya were screwin’ around?” he says, stepping up in intimidation. “Ya don’t think that makes it sound like ya knew it was a problem?”

His entitlement feels like an attack and you won’t stand for it. “You can’t keep me on a leash like this when you don’t even have a claim,” you bark, getting in his face. “You might be my lieutenant, but what I’m doing or not doing outside of military business isn’t for you to worry about. And once again, we aren’t together. Stop acting jealous.”

He stares you down, menacing glare locked to your eyes as his chest heaves up and down exasperatedly. “Neva said I was fuckin’ jealous,” he starts, but you promptly cut him off.

“Yeah, right,” the accusation spills out like acid, finger poking into the middle of his chest. “And the fact you can’t fucking drop it is because you’re concerned, right? Bullshit. But you know what? I don’t care. I promise you, this is the last we will ever speak about it. You hear me? Just leave me the fuck alone.”

You shove past Simon as he stands there silently fuming to walk off somewhere along the building, clearly hoping that he will turn back for the base. His heart is beating out of his chest as he stares daggers into the back of your head…because you actually guessed right. He is jealous and it is eating away at him. 

Blinded by his overwhelming emotions, he moves without thinking about the repercussions of his actions. Taking fast steps, he catches up to you as you walk along by the brick wall of the store and takes you by surprise. He reaches out with his large, strong hand and wraps tightly around the back of your neck to pull you backward to him, turn you around, and pin you against the brick by your throat.

Simon blocks your body with the bulk of his, trapping you so you can’t get away again. His grip is firm, but not painful and you look up into his masked face as if trying to read his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, the residual anger pumping through your veins so it’s still in your voice.

There is a pause, more silence, before he speaks. “Handlin’ something,” he says with a growl.

“You clearly can’t handle anything, Simon,” you comment with an agitated chuckle. 

“Shut it,” he demands in a harsh bark. “Ya think ya know every fuckin’ thing, don’t ya?” He shakes his head, jaw visibly clenching even behind the mask. “Ya can’t even see what’s right in front ‘a your face.”

Your brow furrows; what the hell is he talking about? His remark catches you off-guard and you stand silently in confusion as you contemplate what the hell he’s trying to say, but he’s gone completely silent, just breathing heavy breaths into your face. Enough, he needs to just spit out so this can end. 

“Since I’m so fucking stupid, why don’t you spell it out for me. Stop playing these fucking games with me, Simon.”

Fine, no more games. His skin tingles with the heat from the adrenaline flooding his limbs and all at once everything happens in a flash. Only inches remain between you and in that moment they suddenly feel as wide as the ocean; it makes him ache and the urge to close the distance overwhelms every sense. Reaching towards his face with his free hand his mask is wrenched above his lips before he pulls your head forward by your throat and leans in to catch your mouth with his. The kiss is so full of aggression that it knocks the air out of your lungs. 

There is nowhere for you to go, nothing you can do, but hold on as he takes what he wants from your mouth. He steals kiss after frantic kiss as if he has been starved for them, not evening pausing to give you a second to come up for breath.  

All that anger that had just been bubbling inside you is redirected and suddenly instead of wanting to push him away you want him as close as possible. Your fingers claw into his shoulders through his leather riding jacket as you try to pull him into you, but they are immediately ripped off as he grabs them and pins the wrists to the wall above your head. Between the breaks in your mouth’s connection, he gasps out the words he should have said back in his room. 

“Ya need ta understand. Can’t just have ya a few fuckin’ times and tha’s it. Can’t get enough a ya. Was a goddamn fool not ta speak up sooner. Want ya for myself an’ I don’t share what’s mine. An’ you’re mine, luv,” he gasps into your parted lips, giving your neck a squeeze for emphasis. “Ya hear that? Mine.”

He nips at your bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the plump flesh to make you moan at the delicious harshness. God, your desperate sounds are like a drug; he can’t get enough and the more needy you become, the better they get. Pulling back just as you try to go in for more, he stares into your eyes, his gaze darkening within the confines of his mask still clinging to the top half of his face. “Can’t ‘ave anyone else tryin’ to get at what’s mine. Any prick that tries ta take ya away from me, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill ‘im.”

Admission finished Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he dives right back into your lips, this time shoving his tongue into your mouth, parting through your lips as he forces his way in until the muscle has filled you full. It plays against the roof of your mouth and over your tongue, tasting you, devouring all he can like a beast ravenous to take all that it can get. 

All that pent up desire being released onto you.

His bulky muscles against your chest crush your body into the wall and you can barely breathe, but you would gladly suffocate if it meant your curves could stay molded into each other like this for longer. Then you feel it, that bulge straining against the zipper of his jeans, and the walls of your pussy involuntarily clench. Suddenly you need it inside you. 

As if he has read your mind, Simon wrenches himself from your lips. “Unless ya want me ta fuck ya on the side ‘a this buildin’, get to tha car,” he growls, his voice husky. “Now.”

It only takes  a few seconds before you’re both jostling into the back of your car and slamming the doors shut, Simon’s jacket discarded on the ground right outside the door. His massive size takes up most of the cramped interior of the vehicle, but still he manages to maneuver onto his knees over top of you as he lays your back down against the seat. With one hand he undoes your pants, clasp first and then zipper, and pulls them down just under the curve of your ass and forcefully rips them off your legs as he rips his shirt off over his head with the other. The mask is taken with it and all the clothes get tossed somewhere into the floor of the car as he hikes one of your legs up to rest on his broad shoulder.

“Need it,” he says, feverishly kissing down the length to your thigh. “Need ta be inside ya right this second.”

“Yes, Simon,” you whimper as he undoes his jeans and pulls out his cock. It bobs up and down with the beats of his heart and he moans at the sensitivity as he takes it into his hand.

“Ya said I didn’t ‘ave a claim, well I’m ‘ere to claim ya now. But I need ta say it, sweetheart,” he returns as his fingertips hook into the crotch of your panties to pull them to the side before he angles himself against your pussy and starts slipping himself through your petals with agonizingly slow thrusts of his hips. “Say you’re mine.”

You swallow to coat the dryness in your throat. “I’m yours Simon,” you say, but the measured nature of his strokes don’t stop.

“Again.”

The tip of his cock prods against your clit and you whimper at how swollen it is and how much you need something to take the edge off. “I’m all yours Simon!” you whimper so pathetically as the throbbing intensifies the more he repeats the same. 

His hand digs harder into your hip as he leans in closer to your face. “I. Said. Again.” 

You close your eyes tight, clenching as you pant and gather the strength to reply with everything you have. “Simon, baby, please. I fucking need you so bad. I can’t fucking take it. I swear that I am only yours; there won’t ever be anyone else.”

The heat of his lips near yours makes you shiver. “Look who can’t handle things now,” he says with a smugness that makes goosebumps raise over your skin. “ Now, arch ya back a little more for me.” His command is direct and you follow without hesitation, presenting yourself to him like you are in heat, begging to be filled.  

“Fuck sweetheart, jus’ tha thought of ya with anyone else gets me so god damned riled up,” he says with a grunt as he positions himself at your entrance, your panties nearly ripping still laced in his fingers. “No one can ‘ave ya like this ‘cept me. Understand?”

You give him a vigorous nod, praying that soon the agony will end. “No one.” Your repeated words are a plea.

Simon’s heart races at how you say it. “You’re neva’ gonna stray, are ya?”

“No,” you whine.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” 

With that he shoves in just the tip through the threshold, instantly feeling the stretch of your core by the girth of it, groaning through a chuckle as you mewl taking him in. He doesn’t give you time to adjust and snaps his hips to thrust all the way down to the base of his shaft. The wind gets knocked out of you, but again he doesn’t pause and the axle of the car creaks as his desperate strokes overwhelm everything from you to the vehicle with the force.

“Ya think anyone else can make ya feel like this?” he asks through gritted teeth as he pounds into you hard and rough over and over again in rhythm. “Some manky bastard gonna make ya moan like this?”

There’s no way you can answer him with how full your mouth is with moans, how numb your mind is as everything in you focuses on the sensation of his thrusts reaching deeper and deeper inside. It only gets worse when he decides that one leg on his shoulder isn’t enough; it needs its twin on the opposite one. From here you swear you can feel him in your stomach with how deep he penetrates.

“Ya think he would even know what ya like? How to play with your clit, how to suck on your tits till you’re vibratin’ and your toes curl?”

How the fuck did he remember all that? You’ve only been together a few times and yet it’s obvious that he’s paid so much attention to detail that he’s memorized everything of those intimate details that make you a mess. As if right on cue his hand slips down between your bodies and parts through your petals to massage the nub at the top of your pussy.

“Ya think I wouldn’t care ta know what ya like?” he asks, the gravel in his voice delicious and yet menacing as you throw your head back and release a loud moan. “How else am I gonna make sure ya belong ta me? I need ta fuckin’ ruin this sweet little pussy so no one else can compare. I wanna be the only fuckin’ thing in that pretty head ‘a yours.”

As if you’d ever have the strength after this to even think of another man that isn’t him. The fictional man that got you into this predicament didn’t even exist and yet somehow you still feel guilty about him. There is only Simon, your Simon, that you can’t get enough of; no one else can ever come close. 

The lights in the parking lot kick on just as the last bit of daylight slips under the horizon and you can see now just how fogged up the windows are as Simon rips up your shirt and bra together, stuffing the clothing up around your neck and popping both breasts out of their cage before letting your legs slips from his shoulders to fall and wrap around his hips.

“Can’t forget about these beauties,” he growls before diving in face first and catching one with his mouth. 

Hot lips latch on as he braces a hand against the steam-covered window to hold himself steady so that he can continue to pump in and out of your tight hole and play with your clit as his tongue teases the nipple until it’s stiff and you can feel the pleasurable sensation down between your thighs. The moans filling the car come faster and faster as the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach grows. Simon doesn’t even come up for air, just switches sides to play with the other nipple until it too is hard; he wants a matching set before you come and he is gonna get what he wants. 

Your thighs squeeze down on his hips as that heat violently gathering in the pit of your stomach starts to come to a head and a devilish idea floods your thoughts. It won’t be long now and your orgasm will be coursing through you, but that’s not enough. If he wants to claim you, he is going to claim all of you…and fill you full. 

“Don’t pull out,” you stammer out and he falters in his thrusts. 

Simon quickly releases your breast from his mouth.“What did ya say?” 

You lock your ankles together tightly behind his back so he can’t escape. “Don’t you dare pull out,” you repeat and he nearly comes right then and there just from how the request makes his heartbeat pound. “God, I’m so close, baby. Please, I need you to come in me.”

Fuck, what a request. How the hell could he possibly refuse? He made a declaration after all and he intends to keep it; he is going to ruin you and he is more than willing to breed you to do it. His hands move to your hips and he buries his fingers in the muscles. 

“Then you’re gonna get what ya fuckin’ want, sweetheart,” he says as he strikes up into you with a newfound vigor that makes your body bounce. “You’re gonna take every last goddamn ounce.”

“Right there,” you moan, the pressure euphoric, “stay right there.”

He grunts. “Come for me. Come on my cock. Let me feel that fuckin’ clench.”

He struggles to repeat the same exact movements, his own release about to pop off at any second, but with a bit of effort his hard work pays off and that heat reaches its peak. The tension snaps harshly and tears through you until your body is jerking as you ride out wave after wave of ecstasy.

God, the way your walls are fluttering around him as you let go is heaven and he loses himself in the sensation. All that tight, wet, heat sends tingles through his cock and he can no longer remain sane. 

“My pretty girl…” he murmurs, his thrusts slowly getting more sloppy… “mine…” he repeats,  nearly there, preparing to make sure you take every ounce of his cum and coat your walls… “all fuckin’ mine.”

That’s it, he can’t take another thrust and with an open-mouthed moan he comes hard. Cum shoots up inside you as he milks himself with your body until he has nothing left to give and kneels there resting inside you. You watch the muscles along his abdomen contract and release as he slowly comes back down from that high. 

Such a masterpiece of flesh.

Minutes pass until he feels like he can pull out and he spends that time peppering your lips with tender kisses. Finally he carefully removes your legs from around him and sets them down on either side of his thighs, holding them open so that he can lean back and watch his cum and your slick dribble out of your cunt onto the cushion beneath you. What a beautiful mess he’s made; he can’t stop staring at it as if he’s in a trance. 

A visual sign that his claim is finally complete.

“Tha’s a sight that could do me in,” he breathes. “Ya did so good for me, sweetheart.”

He releases your panties so that they fall back into place and you can feel everything starting to gather in the crotch. You sit up and he pulls your face in for one last kiss; you’ve been here long enough that if you don’t get out of here soon it’s gonna draw unwanted attention. 

“Now get your ass back ta base and make it quick,” he says as he pulls slowly from your lips, “I want ya in my room, in tha shower; ya got exactly 20 minutes so ya best not stop. I’m not done with ya just yet.”