#so if there's anything i need to know then please let me know i can't be bothered to watch it

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kisses against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work .”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[m1ngyuism]

subby mingyu?

GRRAAHH SUBBY MINGYU MENTIONED 🗣️🗣️ WHAT THE HELL IS SANITY 🔥🔥

sub!mingyu who will literally do anything you say, both in and out of the bedroom.

sub!mingyu who goes from the extroverted and friendly guy to your whimpering desperate mess behind closed doors.

sub!mingyu who loves it when you have your way with him, the idea of him being absolutely weak and vulnerable in your hands driving him wild and his dick rock hard.

sub!mingyu who is more sensitive than you think, easily crumbling when you slowly trace your fingers over his toned chest.

sub!mingyu whose head spins as you leave hickeys across his neck and his chest, the idea of people seeing them and knowing that he's yours making his dick twitch.

sub!mingyu who makes the prettiest noises ever, cute babbles of 'please touch me, i've been a good boy,' and 'i need you so bad' echoing in your bedroom.

sub!mingyu who stays so obedient and well-behaved even after you tease him over and over again.

sub!mingyu who absolutely shuts down the moment you slide his dick into you, only able to grasp desperately on to your hips and whine as you ride him.

sub!mingyu who can't help but moan loudly, the pleasure you give to him throwing his sanity and self-respect right out the window.

sub!mingyu who chants desperate pleas over and over again, begging you to let him cum - in you, on you, on himself, anywhere you'll let him. he's not a picky person.

sub!mingyu who's eyes are glazed over as he eats you out like a starved man, not a single thought going through his head as he gets drunk on how sweet and how good you taste.

sub!mingyu who desperately needs to know he's doing good, sensitive cock rutting into the bed which each praise you shower him in and with each tug of his hair.

sub!mingyu who's absolutely spent by the time you're done with him, cum, sweat, drool, and hickeys decorating his gorgeous body as he falls asleep with you in his arms.

© m1ngyuism, 2024.

[thesacrificialdove]

THE BITCHING PROJECT

[ patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms ]

— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader

His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.

"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"

Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.

He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.

Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.

A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."

There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.

You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?

"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."

And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.

"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"

He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."

Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.

"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"

There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.

"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.

He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."

Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.

"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."

"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"

He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."

You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.

“God, that’s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.

He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”

The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.

“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”

With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”

He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.

You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”

“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”

Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.

Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.

He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.

“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”

The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.

You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.

“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.

There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.

In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.

You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.

With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.

“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”

Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley

@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.

[torturedlexdepartment]

Church

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Author's note: I remember I wrote this for @sugarcoatedstarkey a few years ago 🙈 can't believe we forgot about this one 😵‍💫🫠 wish Rafe would take ME to church 🙃

Warnings: SMUT, reader is Ward's personal assistant, oral (fem and male receiving), sex in the workplace

Summary: sparks fly when you and Rafe stay after hours in the office to work on a project

You had worked at Cameron Development for over six months. You worked as Ward Cameron’s personal assistant. His son, Rafe also worked closely alongside you. You guys spent a lot of time together. He was very sweet to you and it seemed like he was being flirty sometimes. But you didn’t want to just assume the boss’s son was hitting on you, so you never pursued anything.

It was a Friday afternoon and Ward had sent everyone else home early. He instructed Rafe and you to stay behind and finish up a very important business proposal. You were a little excited to hear it because you had never been left completely alone in the building with just Rafe. You guys worked quickly and things were almost done. You just needed to get everything printed off and ready to present.

“I’m gonna go wait on all this stuff to print.” You let him know and he nodded as you headed to the copy room. You were standing over the printer waiting patiently for it to be done. It was an older machine and took forever to do anything. You didn’t understand why the office didn’t buy a new one. You knew the Cameron’s were loaded. You popped your head up quickly when you heard Rafe come into the room.

“You’re gonna hate me but I accidentally printed everything out of order.” You jokingly groaned at him. You knew that meant that you guys were going to have to shuffle through the huge stack of papers erupting from the printer and put it all back together the right way. Rafe started grabbing what was complete and laid it out on the table behind you.

You went back and forth between helping him scramble things back together and grabbing stuff as it came off the machine. You accidentally bumped into him a couple of times as you were both trying to go as fast as possible so you could go home for the weekend. You guys laughed and brushed it off until your hand grazed his when you both went to grab the same page. You saw something change in his eyes.

He quickly reached out to grab your face and bring you in for a kiss. You could feel the neediness in the kiss, you could sense that he wanted to do this for a long time. His lips were soft and you were intoxicated with the smell of his cologne. You pulled away for a second, questioning the situation.

“Rafe..” You looked up at him with a concerned look on your face. “Your dad will fire me.” He laughed and closed the gap in between you.

“What my dad doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He smirked and you smiled as he reattached his lips back to yours. His hands immediately went to cup your ass, rolling your hips into him earning a whine from you. You had dreamed of this countless times but now that it was actually happening, it was like fireworks were going off in your mind. He gripped the back of your hair tightly as he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip, begging for access. You let him have it.

After a while of teasing each other with your tongues, you let your hand trail down the front of his body until it met the hem of his pants. Your hand started dancing around the outline of his cock through his pants and he bit your lip when you finally made contact with it. He was hard as a rock already and you were highly pleased with yourself. You pulled away from his kiss and slid down until you were on your knees.

“I’ve thought about this a lot.” You said to him as you undid his buttons and slowly slid his pants down until his cock slapped up to his stomach. Holy shit, you thought to yourself. He looked down smirking at your reaction, you were definitely fueling his already huge ego. He was huge. This was going to be a challenge but you were up for it.

“Me too Y/N, I’ve wanted to-” He gasped the second your tongue made contact with his head. You swirled it around the tip to tease him before hollowing out your cheeks, taking him all the way in your mouth. “My fucking god.” He used his hands to grip all of your hair, making sure it was out of your way as you went to work on him. You traced every vein on his cock as you bobbed your head up and down. It was almost too much for you to take when you felt him hit the back of your throat but you powered through. The sounds he was making made you soak your panties. You always got off on pleasing others. “I’m gonna cum.” He groaned as you felt him twitch in your mouth. And then his spurts of hot wet cum spilled straight down your throat. You sucked him dry before releasing him from the grips of your mouth.

He reached down quickly pulling you back up before picking you up and setting you on the printer, which was still working. He kissed you once before moving his attention to your neck. The fire between your legs burning hotter and hotter.

“Rafe, just fuck me already.” His hand went up under your skirt to grab your underwear and start tearing them down your legs.

“Absolutely not baby girl. Not before I return the favor.” You sighed heavily as he slid down your body and pushed your legs apart. You benched your impatience when you felt his hot breath over your aching pussy. You almost fell off the printer when he sucked on your clit. He used both of his hands to steady you where you were sitting while he ate you like you were his favorite dessert. Your hands tugged at his hair as you felt your orgasm bubbling in your lower stomach.

“It feels so good Rafe, don’t stop.” He moaned into your pussy and flicked your clit even faster, not something you thought was even possible. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let yourself release, your slick coating his beautiful face. Your whole body was vibrating as you came down from your high. His tongue finally left your heat and he left tender kisses on the inside of your thighs before coming back up to face you.

You pulled him by his collar to kiss him deeply. The sweet taste of yourself still very prominent on his lips. He broke away from the kiss, pulled you off the machine, and spun you around so that you were facing it. He pulled your skirt up out of the way just enough so he had access. He wrapped his left hand around your throat as he pulled you into his chest. He used his free hand to shove himself inside of you. You both moaned simultaneously.

He started thrusting into you at a slow pace at first, his hand still tightening around your throat as you begged for more. He placed a kiss on the side of your head before moving his hand and shoving your body down onto the printer. He gripped your hair as he started pounding into you harder.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby, I’m not gonna last.” He groaned out as he slid in and out of you with ease. He was stretching you out so good, this was so much better than all the fantasies you played out in your head about him. The tip of his cock had found that special part inside of you that had you a whimpering mess underneath him. You gripped the sides of the printer like your life depended on it.

You two hadn’t even noticed that in the chaos of you fucking, you knocked all the freshly printed papers on the ground. A mess you would have to deal with later. You started to feel yourself clench around him and he started to slow down, trying to savor the moment. He was close too, his thrusts were becoming sloppy.

“Rafe, fuck I’m gonna cum.”

“It’s okay baby, I’m right behind you.” He thrusted into you a couple more times before you were pulsating around him, causing him to shoot his cum deep inside of you. He leaned over you for a few moments, trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck Y/N, why haven’t we done this sooner?” He pulled himself out of you, pulling his pants back up before finding your panties for you.

“Because I was waiting for you to make a move.” You turned to face him with a cheeky grin.

“Well next time I won’t keep you waiting beautiful.” He leaned down, kissing you gently.

“Next time?” You asked.

“I mean if you want to. I personally can’t wait to fuck you in every square inch of this office.” He winked at you and you playfully shoved him away.

“We’ll see Cameron.” You teased as you both went to work cleaning up the mess all over the floor.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Missing Sneak Peak (SUBJECT TO CHANGE)

The truth is out about Marinette's predicament, and to everyone's surprise, Chloe calls Ladybug:

"I need a favor."

It was a standoff.

Ladybug had faced down akumas, false heroes, monsters of man and magic, and even Hawk Moth himself. And not once had she ever backed down or given up.

But Chloe Bourgeois was nothing if not stubborn. She was long used to getting what she wanted.

And she wasn't going to let something as simple as facing an opponent with a mask and superpowers deter her.

“Look, I worked with you before. That has to mean something, right? I helped you before! Against my Dad and against Hawk Moth on Heroes Day! You…you owe me.”

Ladybug looked unimpressed. “The Miraculous do not entitle you to anything, Chloe.”

“No, hear met out!” Chloe insisted. “You trusted me to help you. And I did! I put my life on the line as your teammate. So…so that warrants something, doesn’t it? I deserve something! A wish. An ask. Just one request.”

The hero frowned. But Chloe was undeterred.

“So look, just…bring her back already. Bring back Marinette Dupain-Cheng and every stupidly good and positive thing she brings with her, and I’ll…I don’t know. I’ll find some way to return the favor.”

Ladybug simply stared at her. Blank. Unfeeling.

“I can pay you! Even superheroes need money, right?”

“Chloe….”

“I’ll be better! No more akumas, I promise!”

“Chloe.”

“I’ll be nicer! I’ll stop bugging my Dad for things and stop causing problems!”

“That's not—h”

“I'll donate my wardrobe to charity!”

“I can't just—"

“I’ll stop making comments to my classmates! I’ll just shut up completely! I’ll get voice surgery if I have to!”

“Chloe, that’s not how it works—”

“NO! It HAS to work!” She shouted, cutting her off. Because she refused—she refused to accept any other answer. “You’re Ladybug! You always make it work! So you can just make this work, too!”

Silence.

“Please.” Chloe begged. “This is the one good thing I have. I don’t want to—I can’t give it up!”

Ladybug simply looked at her, almost pityingly.

“Please." Chloe repeated. "Just this one thing. That's all.”

Ladybug simply shook her head, leaving Chloe feeling hollow.

And without even a word, Ladybug turned away.

Chloe just stared after her in shock.

Because Ladybug was Ladybug. A hero. THE hero. Always there. Always helpful. Always caring.

So why…?

Why didn’t she care now?

Then…

…it hit her.

And Chloe laughed.

How could she not?

“Of course.“ She laughed mournfully. “Of course she had gotten to you too.”

Because of course even Ladybug would be different.

Because of course if anyone could have helped make a Ladybug into the great hero she was today, it would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

----------------------------------------

“Chloe?" Adrien called out as he entered her room, worried and unsure. "Is everything okay? You were crying on the phone and…”

He froze, seeing Chloe curled up next to her Bee signal.

“Chloe?”

She didn’t move or answer immediately. He was worried she didn’t even realize he was there, given how blankly she seemed to be staring into nothing.

“Chloe?” He asked as he approached.

Silence.

Unsure of what else to do, he sat next to her and waited.

Chloe had gotten like this before. A long, long time ago.

She would have these times where she'd get quiet and small. And he would sit next to her, just barely touching. Close enough that she'd know he was there and could decide from there if she wanted to lean on him or push away. He always left it up to her. Always waited. Because Chloe never pushed him away. And with enough time, she would voice her feelings, just loud enough that he could hear.

...and sure enough...

“My Mom forgot my name today.” She whispered.

Adrien paused.

He knew how much that had to hurt her. Chloe’s Mother was everything to her. Everything she idolized and admired. Everything she wanted and wanted to be. He’d never seen her happier than when her Mom settled back in Paris and returned to her life.

It had meant everything to her. And to lose it again…

“I’m sorry, Chloe.” He said, leaning closer to her. “I thought things were better.”

“They were.” She sniffed, trying to hold back the hurt. “They were better. And do you know why?”

She laughed, startling him with how bitter it sounded.

“Chloe?”

“It was because of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Because of course it was!" She started off lowly, but her tone grew angrier the more she spoke. "Because of course she is! Because of. Freaking. COURSE if ANYONE was to get my Mom to do better and treat me like I’m actually family and just be a mom, it would be stupid perfect Marinette!”

She curled in on herself with a sob.

“Not…not me.”

Despite her efforts, the tears began to flow.

“And…and now—”

She hiccuped, forcing herself to speak.

“I heard it, you know. They're saying that Marinette got hit by that akuma and now not only did she disappear, but everything—everything connected to her is disappearing, too. Like…how? How does that even work? How does one person affect that much? She was just…just a little nobody! She didn’t matter!” Chloe lowered her head. “At least, she didn’t use to.”

Adrien frowned, wanting to argue, but forced himself to not speak.

Chloe filled the silence instead.

“And it was scary learning she was fading, because that could happen to you or me or anyone, but it was like no big deal, right? Because  yeah, she’s done some things and helped some people but it's not like she did that much, right? So her being gone wouldn't matter that much. Surely she didn’t impact me.” Her eyes clenched shut. “But she did, and now it’s hitting me in the face just how much of what I had was because of her and…and…”

She tried to wipe at her eye, only for more tears to trail.

“And now just like that! It’s all gone! Just back to how it was before. Like—like it never happened! Mom caring about me? Loving me? Yeah right! When did that ever happen? It wasn't me being awesome or a good daughter or following in her footsteps that got my Mom's attention!" She smiled falsely, tears falling from her eyes in a sad show of her true feelings.

"Nope! It wasn't anything about me! It wasn't even about Mom realizing she loves me! Everything we got to have was all only because of Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” She exclaimed with a wild waving of her hands. "Isn't that lovely? Isn't that awesome? Isn't it great how she just fixed everything and brought us together into the happy little family I'd been wanting for years?"

“Chloe…”

She shook her head, showing a bitter smile.

“And now because of stupid akumas and stupid magic, Marinette isn’t here. And because she isn’t here, she wasn’t there. And because she wasn’t there, it didn’t happen. And because it didn’t happen, everything’s just…poof! Gone! Just like that! Just like magic!”

She clenched her fists, her smile falling. “And now I know it never would have happened on its own. Not with just me. Not without her. It was only because of her that I had my Mom back at all. And now that she’s gone, I’m gonna lose that too and…and…”

She sobbed.

“It’s not fair.”

It wasn’t, he agreed internally because what could he actually say?

He understood her feelings about her Mom. It was hold he felt with his own Dad. Never feeling enough. And to have someone else come in and fix that…he wasn’t sure whether he would be grateful or hurt. He was even less sure how he would respond.

…he would feel sad. He knew that much.

“And the worst part? Ladybug is just the same. Harsh sometimes, but not like that. Never like that.”

Silence.

A breath.

“What does that say?” Chloe asked. “When her being gone makes that big of a difference? With my hero AND with my Mom. Not me. Not anyone. No. It's because of Her.”

Adrien stared in surprise. He'd known Ladybug was off, but even Chloe had noticed a difference? It was jarring.

“Ladybug is?”

Chloe wiped her tears. “She's different. You've noticed, haven't you?” She paused, before shrugging. “Though maybe you haven't been around her enough to. But she's different, too. Everyone is different without her. Ladybug. My Mom...I get why. I remember what happened to start it, but still...”

He had as Chat, but he couldn't tell her that.

“And I hate it!” She suddenly exclaimed, anger rushing through her. “I hate it because it means it was nothing about me that made it even happen or made me worth it in the first place but it was everything about her and I hate that but I’m so selfish because—yeah okay, I hate it but I’ll still take it if it means I get to have this and it’s still better than not having Mom at all even if I only got it this way but now I can’t even have that much anymore and soon I never will have had it at all and it'll be like it never happened and it’s not fair!” She ended up shouting, slamming her fist into the ground.

“Chloe!”

“I’m not good, but it’s not fair!”

He hesitated for a moment.

But it was only a moment before he drew her into his arms and let her cry.

He wanted to speak and reassure her. Insist that she was wrong and she was more than enough. It was the right thing to say. The kind thing.

But he was still learning and growing and still so very scared of saying the wrong thing.

Nino had helped him. Listened to him. Helping him without even saying a thing.

Because it was what he needed…because sometimes people needed to make their voices heard more than they needed kind words.

And Adrien could do that much.

So he sat by her, waiting in solidarity and support. The friend and listener she needed as she cried.

[tinylilacbun]

I just had a thought for your new series.

Everyone in the obx kinda knows how Luke is but noone says anything. Maybe JJ shows up to babysit and he had a bruise/black eye or cut basically an obvious injury and toddler readers parents recognise what it's from and invite him to spend a few nights in their guest room under the guise of babysitting because they know he won't accept help

Feel free to completely ignore this, I literally just woke up and had the thought so I thought I'd share- :3

-a very shy mutual lol 😅

Omg hi my sweet moot!! Hope you like this :3

You're sitting on the living room sofa, wriggling your feet as you watch Bluey on the tv while eating your snack, occasionally seeing your parents pass by.

They're getting ready for their date and instead of whining and crying for them to stay you're giddy with excitement and can't wait for JJ finally to arrive.

You gasp when you hear the doorbell ring, jumping off the couch to run towards the front door barely reaching the handle you open it quickly, squealing at the sight of JJ.

JJ chuckles, your adorable face distracting him from the throbbing pain from the lingering bruises and cuts on his face that you luckily haven't noticed yet as you hug his legs.

"Oh, JJ, honey good you're here. We're almost ready to go. She already had dinner but still needs her bath before going to sleep." Your mother tells him as she puts on her coat while your father puts on his shoes.

"No problem, we'll manage this, huh?" He grins down at you.

She turns to face him, her smile fading at the state the teenager is in. Obviously your parents know about his father and the probably bad environment JJ is living in, your mother's heart aching at the sight before him.

JJ has a forming bruise on his cheek and cuts on his eyebrow and his bottom lip, but still smiling down at the little princess that's clinging to his legs. Your parents share a look, already figuring what must have happened.

"Hey, buddy, um we really got a lot on our plate the next few days and wanted to ask if you would maybe sleep here in our guest room for the rest of the week? It would really take some pressure from our shoulders knowing our baby is taken care of." Your father asks him, grabbing the car keys from their designed bowl.

"Uh, yea...sure." He says, not noticing the true intent of the request but agrees nonetheless, he could never say no to spending time with you. "You heard that, cupcake? We're gonna have a sleepover."

"Yay! C'mon Jay! I gots to show you m'new critter family!" You squeak, pulling at his hand to drag him to your room.

As soon as you both disappear from their sight your mother sighs. "I'm worried about him."

Your father nods, grabbing her hand and kissing the back of it. "Me too. But we can't do much since he won't accept it. I'm glad he agreed to stay, tho. Now, come on, let's give him some time to relax here."

You're happily showing him your new calico critter set that you got after your dentist appointment. Introducing each critter to him, you both sitting on the fluffy carpet of your room.

"And dis S'Jay 'cause he reminds me of you!" You smile, handing him the tiny figure, looking up at his face for his reaction you furrow your brows in confusion.

Without thinking you reach up to touch his cheek and JJ winces, gently taking your wrist and pulling it away from his face. "Don't touch it please, um...it-"

"Hurts? You got boo-boos?" You ask curiously and he nods, a small smile on his face at your innocent question.

"Yeah, but it's fine." He says, watching how you rush out of your room.

He gets up from the ground and follows after you, seeing you just as you're about to enter the bathroom and as he's about to enter you rush back out and bump into his legs, JJ grabbing your shoulders to keep you steady with a chuckle. "Careful there. Watcha got there?"

You motion for him to come closer and he leans down, not expecting you to suddenly place a bandaid on his cheek, grabbing another one from the colorful package that you place over the cut on his eyebrow.

JJ's face softens at the action, picking you up when it seems you were done with nursing his wounds. "Thank you..."

You smile at him brightly, leaning closer to press a kiss on each bandaid. "Kisses make me feels better."

His heart almost explodes at your cute gesture, letting you tuck your face in his neck as you wrap your arms around it he could feel a single tear slip down his cheek, grateful for having someone who doesn't question him or tells him that he should get help and do something about his dad.

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu @mylettterstoyou @sunf1ower16

For JJ:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva

[th3e-m4ng0]

Hello ! Thanks for bearing with me , I am a Palestinian educator from Gaza whose life is dire and gruesome. Nothing has left for my family except the hope you can support and help us. After 9 months of war we became exhausted, hopeless , desperate , and displaced. Houses and livelihood sources have been lost and gone with the wind. Things are driving us insane and made. The least level of life can't be attained. Healthy water and food have become a dream we need to realize. What worsens our life more is the constant bombings and killings. That is why I am asking in this post to help us survive this unbearable circumstances , moving from hell to safety and peace. Your support can help us be safe and alive so friends you can support us either by directly donating whatever you can or by sharing my campaign links so that generous people can know about our tragedy and pain. Remember your small contribution can make a big difference for the lives of many children whose heath gets worse and worse everyday. Let their life change and let them feel happy through your kind contribution.

https://gofund.me/9b764ae7

⬆️⬆️please consider sharing and donating to this fundraiser !!! anything helps !! ⬆️⬆️

[astrasng]

thinking about…

bf!junghoon texting you every morning with a poem, something unique and sweet to make you smile early in the morning.

bf!junghoon who always pats the top of your head while hugging you, pulling you even closer so he can feel you heartbeat against his.

bf!junghoon who often can't say the words he wants to because he's shy, so instead he writes them down on a little paper and hands them to you.

bf!junghoon who on a random day got you necklace with matching earrings, saying that you deserve presents every day.

bf!junghoon who will forever protect you from anything, standing infront of you proud and tall so you're not scared.

bf!junghoon is the type of boyfriend who will say, "I know you don't need my help, but let me." and will help you out even if you say you can do it alone.

bf!junghoon who hates to see you cry, so he does everything to make you smile, even if it means embarrassing himself so he can make you laugh. he would give up his pride just for you.

bf!junghoon who makes you feel like home. unconsciously, you feel like he's your home now, and wherever you go without him, it just doesn't feel familiar like him.

bf!junghoon whose smile gives you butterflies alone. always squishing his cheeks together in cute aggression, making him groan out from your lovey dovey acts. "Come on, babe. In front of the guys, seriously?" he would say, but then he gives you a quick kiss and doesn't care about the boys anymore.

bf!junghoon who takes you to different dates. is the type who does a date bucketlist which is in alphabetical order and nags you to on the next date on the calendar. "We need to go there, I know you would love it!"

bf!junghoon who bakes with you cakes for holidays, and then randomly mumbles out that, "Hey, so my mum wants you to come over for Chuseok. Is that okay with you?" making you immedietly hit him on the shoulders because Chuseok is in a day and you didn't prepare any gifts for them. He just laughs heartedly, hugging you tightly. "Don't worry about that, you're the gift they asked for all their lives for me."

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ : i'm so sorry for the delay, it's been a good few days since my last bf!xikers scenerio, no excuses. I was thinking a little bit more about writing a slight nsfw content for junghoon and as much as I miss him and want to write more for him, I don't think I would be able to. I hope everyone understands! ♡

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

[aziraphales-library]

Hey there! Do you have any refs for fics involving a road trip (extra points if its aziracrow as Angel/demon and not an au altho aus are lovely too!!)

Hi! We have some road trip fics here, and I've got more now...

leave you faithless by midnightbotany (T)

As Aziraphale struggles with the demands of his new role as Supreme Archangel, a heartbroken Crowley embarks on a journey around the world hoping to stop Armageddon. Again.

Where The Furniture Used To Be by Magpie_BKK (T)

The Bentley has mysteriously brought Crowley back to central London, just as an old friend turns up at the bookshop. But not everything is as it appears, and Crowley finds himself on the run with an amnesiac angel, trying to unlock his memories along the way.

The Lost Apostle by miraworos (G)

After a long hiatus, Crowley badgers Aziraphale to go on a road trip with him. But it's more a quest than a road trip, and both Crowley and Aziraphale may be getting into more than they bargained for. Bentley POV.

Waterfall by duustbunny (E)

Two years after Aziraphale accepts the Metatron’s offer, Crowley is captured as he attempts to infiltrate Heaven and Aziraphale is tasked with executing public punishment. Instead, he lets the demon lead him on a quest to recover a lost item that can help them stop the end of the world once more. Because Heaven is not the boss of him anymore, and preventing the Apocalypse will never stop being his and Crowley’s job.

The Journey by ElderlySardine (M)

“Anthony J Crowley… Mayfair, London… Next of kin: Mr A Z Fell…” Crowley nodded. It wasn’t as if he had anyone else. “Emergency contact: also Mr Fell…” Crowley had almost stopped listening. “Relationship to applicant: husband…” “Husband?!” Crowley and Mrs Lowry spoke together as one, for the first and almost certainly the last time in their lives. “Husband.” Crowley recovered first, and fixed Mrs Lowry with a hard stare into which he infused just a little bit of demonic energy. “Is that a problem?” It was a problem. It was Aziraphale's harebrained plan, and it was clearly doomed to failure, as well as embarrassment and ignominy. But since when had Crowley been able to say no to the angel? It was only two weeks, and 3,850 miles. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

hurry back, please bring it back home to me by Percyjacksonfan3 (T)

“Why should I?” The demon interrupts cuttingly. “You’ve made it perfectly clear where your priorities lie and anything I say won’t make a bit of difference.” “That’s not true at all.” Aziraphale replies after a long hurt moment. “And you know it. Besides, you’re being stubborn. You’ll help me eventually.” Rage flashes over Crowley’s face. “You think so, do you?” Aziraphale juts his chin up stubbornly, ignoring the unpleasant feelings Crowley’s expression stirs in him. “Yes.” Aziraphale needs Crowley's help in saving humanity from the Second Coming and despite what happened between them he's determined to get it. After all, it's not only that he needs Crowley, but his plan also includes their car. As for the other matters between the two of them... well there's no reason those can't be sorted out along the way as well, is there? Or, a possible take on Series 3 that includes the Bentley, a resurrected Jesus Christ set on bringing about the End of Days, and an angel and a demon who are stupidly in love with each other but are both suffering from a lack of experience on how to actually deal with said emotions. Emphasis on the stupidly.

- Mod D

[blue-willow-tree]

Dearest darling 🩵

My word, you’ve been such an exceedingly good girl today. You’re always so good for me, truthfully, but today I’m just so pleased with you, bunny. Letting mommy pose you like my little doll and going above and beyond all my requests. You’re absolutely perfect. 💙

I want to give you a reward, bunny. Ask for anything you like and mommy will give it to you. It can be an audio, a photo, for me to say a certain thing you’ve been wanting to hear… anything.

Tell mommy what you want, bunny. I want to give it to you. My one condition is that you make this ask and your reply public.

I want everyone to know what a good girl you’ve been and see exactly what request you make of me. Don’t be shy, bunny. 🩵

- 🌙

I'm so happy <33 As I said, I'd have been good for you even without the gift of a reward, but I can't even explain how much this made me smile x My sailor, my Mistress, my big bad wolf, you treat your bunny so well 🩵

You know one of our favourite things in this world is to pose for one another, and of course I felt the effect hit me very hard tonight. I wanted to be your living doll, and I simply had to follow your instructions has best as I could to take the most perfect photos and videos for you. I hope you have fun with them after work x

I want an audio, please, mommy <3 I want you to use that vibrator of yours! Please x I want you to use it on yourself, and I want it to be strapped down somehow, maybe stick it under your tights or underwear or use ribbon or rope to keep it down. I want you to put your fluffy handcuffs on, and I want you to record an audio, close your eyes, and imagine I'm the one that has you like that. I wouldn't be in a dominant position, no no, I'd be humping your thigh and whimpering into your neck while you're like that. I just.. I know I want to hear you beg for me, I love hearing you beg for me. I want you to call me bunny and beg for me to take the vibrator out but I wouldn't be able to. No no no I wouldn't be able to, I'd still need to cum on your thigh from hearing you beg and I want to be your good girl and make you proud! I want to please you. Please, record this for me, yes? I want this to be so vivid in your head, and I want to hear every moan and plead so I can hump myself on my pillow once again to your voice 🩵

I'll respond to my other asks tomorrow, loves x

[xxhisgirlxx]

JJs Girl

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, protected sex, tit play, established relationship, fluffy

“you coming fishing?” John B asks JJ, slapping him on the shoulder, not even waiting for an answer before he begins pulling him along.

“baby-” JJ looks to you, and you quickly fix your face, a smile spreading over your features. 

“go ahead.” you encourage him. “ive got some cleaning to do around the house anyways.” you shrug

JJ frowns. you should have known better than to attempt to hide your emotions from him, he sees so easily through you. “sorry, JB.” he steps out of his friends hold. “im staying home with y/n.”

John B sighs dramatically, tipping his head back. “fine!” he leaves the patio, grumbling something about all of his friends having girlfriends and leaving him behind.

“you can go, i don't mind.” you say softly as JJ sits down on the sofa next to you.

“nope.” he shakes his head. “need some alone time with my pretty girl.” 

you feel your cheeks heat up as he pulls you into his side, kisses being pressed against your head. despite dating for almost a year now, JJ never fails to make you blush.

“i missed you.” you coo out, snuggling into his chest.

“yeah?” he smirks down at you. “even though it was literally less than 24 hours since i saw you last?”

“ugh, still too long.” you roll your eyes, even though you're happy JJ got to spend some time with his friends, a boys night only at the chalet.

“so what cleaning do you have to do? i can help.”

“baby, i was just making something up so you wouldn't feel bad.” you giggle. “i mean, i do have laundry to put away but…”

“but you'd rather do something else?” JJ questions.

“mhm…” you stand up slowly, hand squeezing around JJ as you pull him inside, walking him towards your room.

“so this is what you meant by missing me?” JJ laughs, shutting and locking the door behind you even though no one is home.

“hey.” you pout. “i missed you and i missed you.”

“aw, babygirl.” JJ laughs gently, cupping your cheeks and pulling you into a kiss. you're instantly lost in his lips, not even realizing that JJ had moved you further into the room until he's laying you down onto your bed.

“JJ…” you whisper. “please.”

“i got you, baby.” he keeps his voice soft and soothing as he kisses you again, allowing you to focus on the kiss as his hands trail over your body, running his fingertips down your arms and cupping your waist, anything to touch you.

“will you-” you begin before suddenly feeling shy when JJ looks down at you.

“will i what?” a smile spreads across his face. he loves when you ask him specifically for what you want, instead of just letting him take the lead and do whatever he pleases, having to guess what feels best for you.

“um…” you cover your face with your hands, only getting the confidence to say anything when you don't have to look JJ in the eye. “play with my chest.”

you can't get the actual words out. breasts, boobs, tits, whatever you want to call them, and you have to settle for chest as it's the least embarrassing

“hell yeah.” JJ let's his excitement slip before calming himself, knowing how much his energy effects you.

JJs large hands cup over your chest, rubbing at your breasts through your tank top and bra. JJ kisses you again, but keeps them light so you can really pay attention to his palms rubbing against your nipples.

“can i take this off?” JJ asks, hands moving down your stomach and disappearing underneath the hem of your shirt.

“yeah.” you nod, sitting up to allow him to pull the fabric away, leaving you in just a bra. JJ has seen you naked many times before, but every time feels new and intimate with how gentle and caring he is...on occasion.

JJ reaches behind your back and unclips your bra after struggling with the clasp for a second, but he doesn't instantly pull it away.

He starts with the straps, slowly guiding them down your shoulders as his mouth follows with kisses, spreading goosebumps along your arms.

“JJ.” you whimper out, a plea for more.

“mhm.” he hums, understanding what you're asking for as he pulls the cups down, revealing your already hard nipples.

he doesn't even wait to get your bra all the way off before his mouth latches onto your skin, tongue briefly flicking over your nipple before his plush lips wrap around the bud with a soft suck.

your hands come to his messy dirty blonde hair, scrunching it between your fingers as he plays with your chest using his mouth, switching back and forth to give each side equal attention.

“does that feel good?” he asks, a smile on his face. it's a rhetorical question, if the moans didn't tell him, then the blissed out look on your face would.

JJs goes back to sucking on your nipple, one of his hands cupping your other breast, thumb swiping over your nipple as his other hand skirts down your stomach.

you feel your breath suck in before you even realize as he passes over the button on your shorts and delves right between your legs, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

“oh, god!” you squeal out. “JJ!”

you can feel his smile against your chest as he rubs his fingers into you, pushing your already wet underwear against your cunt, focusing in on where he knows your clit is, having memorized your entire body from head to toe.

“i need you.” you whine. “come on, please.”

JJ looks up at you, his gaze heated as his hand continues to rub against your core. “need me where?”

“need you…” you whisper out. “need you to fuck me.”

“that's my girl.” JJ leans in and gives you a kiss. he always tries to encourage you when you manage to use your words.

JJ moves so he's kneeling between your spread thighs. the first thing he does is rip his shirt off, and you ignore the urge to reach up and rub your hands against his defined muscles.

“my handsome man.” you smile up at him, love so evident in your eyes, echoing the words he always says to you.

“love you.” JJ knows his cock is straining against his shorts, and you are beyond desperate for him, but he still pauses to lean down and give you yet another kiss.

“love you too.” you coo back. it hasn't been all that long since you've made that declaration to each other, so the words still feel exciting every time they're said.

JJs hands focus in on the zipper and buttons of your shorts, quickly undoing them to slide the jeans off your legs as he tosses them away. 

you smile shyly as he begins to focus on getting himself the rest of the way undressed as you slip your underwear off and let them fall off the bed as you splay out.

“look at you.” JJ coos, making sure to get the condom out of his pocket. despite you being on birth control, you're always extra cautious, way too young and responsible to get pregnant.

"come on.” you giggle, impatient, as he takes the condom and rips the foil, spreading the rubber over his length.

“kay, ready.” JJ gets himself into position, holding himself up over top of you as he lines his cock up with your entrance.

you take a deep breath to relax your body as he pushes inside, making sure to go extra slow to allow you to adjust.

“f-fuck.” you whine, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pulling him further into you as JJs hips press all the way forward, cock buried inside of you.

“give me a minute.” you hum, shifting your hips from side to side. JJ distracts himself with kissing along your jaw and neck until you give him a nod, a signal that it's alright to move.

“mmm.” you hum out, unable to actually form words in response.

“feel so good baby.” JJ groans out, keeping his thrusts slow and steady at first.

JJ back arches as he ducks his head to wrap his mouth around your nipple again, sucking as his hips slowly increase in pace.

you moan out, arms pressing him closer into your chest, encouragement to continue as he pumps into you, knowing neither of you can last that long.

“so warm and wet for me baby.” JJ praises you, switching to the other side of your chest as the wet squelching sound spreads over the room with every movement of his cock.

“only for you.” you smile softly, glad when JJ lifts his head to press a kiss against your lips. 

“love you, love you, love you.” JJ says, forever the soft and sweet boyfriend that you fell so deeply for.

“cum for me.” he urges you, shifting his weight to one arm to allow his other hand to drop, rubbing circles over your clit.

“oh my god!” you squeal out, head tilting back, pressing into the pillow as his fingertips work against your bud, having figured out just what you like and what touches get you there fastest.

“fuck, can feel you clenching around me.” JJ gasps, hips moving faster, fucking into you with a fury that you know means he's going to cum soon.

“i-i-” you try to warn JJ, but the words dissolve into moans as your orgasm hits you, high washing over your body as your legs shake, the tightening of your pussy causing pope to cum as well, pushing his hips forward to cum as deeply inside of you as possible, even if he is sheathed with a condom.

“fuck! baby!” JJ shouts out, a few final thrusts before he pulls out, collapsing against the bed next to you.

“oh my god.” you giggle, legs snapping closed to cover the mess between your thighs as your hands come to your face, hiding your bright red cheeks from JJ.

“you're so cute.” JJ kisses over top of your hands before standing up and heading to the bathroom to discard his condom, coming back with a warm wet washcloth.

you keep your face covered as he cleans you up, always feeling a little shy right after sex.

"hey.” JJ pokes you.

You put your hands down, a soft smile on your face as he hands you your clothes to put back on. despite knowing no one will be home for many more hours, you don't like to risk getting caught by hanging around naked.

you both get dressed quickly before you wrap your arms around JJs shoulders, tucking your head into his neck.

“thank you.” you whisper. “that was really, really, really, good.”

“always happy to help.” JJ laughs, reaching down to pick you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you through the house, back towards the patio to continue relaxing.

“ah, so that's why you didn't go fishing.”

“John B!” you squeal, jumping out of JJs arms.

“what? Pope was busy with Cleo so I came back here. y'all are loud by the way.” John B shrugs.

"dude, im going to kill you.” JJ says, rushing after John B as your laughter spreads throughout the backyard, watching your boyfriend chase his friend through the grass

[thriftyshark530]

Whump Dialogue

Whumper:

"Come here, whumpee. There you go, good boy"

"Oh don't worry, I'm not going to kill you, but you're probably going to wish I did"

"Caretaker? You really think they can save you now? Look around, I call the shots here, you arent getting out unless I say so"

"No, no caretaker, you got it all wrong. I'm not going to hurt you..... Whumpee on the other hand..." (Whumpee and caretaker can swap places in this one)

"I want you to know, caretaker. Whumpee struggled, held out as long as he could, waiting for you to save him. Too bad that day never came, did it?"

"Don't worry caretaker, I haven't been hurting our whumpee too bad. He only lost a fraction of his blood, not enough to be fatal."

"Hm, y'know the bruises on your face really bring out the bright color of your eyes. Oh how pretty you look when I'm done with you, isn't that right, whumpee?"

"Caretaker doesn't love you, whumpee. Nobody does, only I do"

"Look, caretaker, look at all you failed to prevent" (whumper showing caretaker what they've done to whumpee)

Whumpee:

"Fuck you, I'll never give into yo- GAAAGH"

"Caretaker.....hurts"

"Caretaker, whumper, he's behind you"

"I thought you wouldn't come"

"Why did you help me"

"Caretaker will find me, and more importantly, find you. And when they do, what you've done to me will look like a tea party in comparison"

"You shouldn't have come, caretaker."

"MOVE, ITS A TRAP" (said by whumpee when caretaker enters their cell)

"GET DOWN" (said by whumpee before taking an attack that was meant for teammate)

"Please......" (Said by a shaking and bloody whumpee, staring at the weapon in whumpers hand)

"Wait, caretaker, I never told you....thank you, for everything. I owe you my life"

"You don't have to monitor me, caretaker, I'm fine. You should get some rest"

Caretaker:

"Whumpee.....oh my god, what did they do to you"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you, but I am now"

"Please, please don't hurt them" (said by caretaker with a tear falling down their cheek, only able to plead with whumper to not hurt whumpee)

"STOP, NO STOP, HURT ME, PLEASE" (said by caretaker as whumper begins to stalk towards a defenseless whumpee)

"YOU SON OF A BITCH, IM GONNA KILL YOU" (screamed by caretaker as they're forced to watch whumper attack whumpee)

"WHUMPEE, RUN" (screamed by caretaker towards whumpee, as they both get attacked)

"Of course I came for you, no way I'd leave you behind"

"You aren't leaving my sight until you recover, understand?"

"It's my fault, whumpee, I'm so sorry"

"Whumpee, get some rest. That's an order"

"Don't you dare fucking hurt them"

Whumpee x caretaker:

C: "whumpee it's ok, it's ok. I'm here, darling, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

C: "do you need anything else, love?"

W: "um, a kiss, maybe?"

C: "hm, of course, dear"

C: "whumpee, I was so scared. I couldn't .. I can't lose you too."

W: "you didn't, I'm still here. I'm sorry I scared you, love."

C: "it's ok, dear, it's ok. I got you, I'm not letting go, ever"

W: "funny, I thought you hated me. Y'know earlier when you said you didn't want to see me again, and now here we are. Me bleeding on your couch, and you helping me"

C: "would you shut up, I'm trying to work here."

W: "yeah, no pressure, but my life is on the line here"

C: "you stupid idiot, why did you do that?"

W: "I.... I couldn't let them hurt you, caretaker."

C: "w...why?"

W: "because I love you, you idiot"

I'm thinking of making another one of these but idk if I should.

[weepingwillowwonder]

Gonna mix it up a bit here:

This prompt I did for Alastor a few days ago, but this time it’s with Angel Dust:

“Hazbin x reader where: You're a huge flirt, talking big game about what you'd do if they gave you a chance, but when given the opportunity you can't "put your money where your mouth is" and they give you exactly what you asked for…”

~PLUS~

 A request: “Angel dust x afab reader, with reader being very affected by him saying ‘good boy’ , maybe with some overstim...”

CW: Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Groping, GN but Reader does get called baby boy & good boy exactly one time

[NSFW 18+ ONLY]

~~~

“Angel baby, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” A lopsided grin spreads on your face when you make your way over to the bar. Angel Dust turns in your direction as you take a seat next to him. 

“Lookin’ for little ol’ me?” He fakes a surprised gasp with his hand on his chest. You giggle in response and lean in close with your tongue sticking out.

“I was looking for you…thought you were off today?” You ask, accepting the drink Husk gives you with appreciation. Watching Angel Dust take a sip of his beverage, you tilt your head in question when he takes a moment to respond. 

“Ah well, I was off but Val called, said he needed me for an emergency shoot. You know how it is…” His fingers absentmindedly circle the rim of his glass while his elbow rested on the counter, his fist tucked under his chin. You nod following along as he speaks.

“Well…how was the shoot? Was it a good time at least?” While you were genuinely asking how he felt about the events that occurred earlier in the day, you couldn’t help but be a little curious about what kinds of acts his videos entailed. It was no secret Angel Dust was hot, you had eyes of course, but you wanted his attention more than anything. You wished it were you performing with him, not some random sinner. He let out a sigh as his bottom lip slipped out in a pout. 

“The shoot itself went well, as it always does with my work. It’s just…” He pauses as an almost shy smile makes its way across his face as he lowers his voice. “Heh, the scene Val wanted us to do really got me goin’ , ya know? More so than usual. And the guy I was fuckin’ just didn’t cut it, that’s all.”

Your cheeks warm as you pick up on his implication. It wasn’t unusual that Angel was open to discussing the details of his work. In fact, he was very comfortable venting to you (and anyone else who would listen), which you were thankful for as his friend. There was a part of you though that was pleased the conversation seemed to work out in your favor.

“I meannn, I bet I could do a better job.” You mumble, casually shrugging before taking a sip of your drink. In your peripheral, you see Angel lean back in his chair and cross a set of his arms. 

“Oh yeah?” He eggs you on with a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk. “Some pretty big words, toots, claimin’ you’re better than a pornstar.” 

“Mhm, I’d say I’m pretty confident in my skills.” Your fingers pinch the tiny straws in your drink and bring them to your lips. Forcing away the smile that threatens to show on your face, you make a show out of dragging your lips along the straws. A small drop of liquid falls along the corner of your mouth and you stick your tongue out to lick it up. You don’t miss the way Angel’s own tongue comes out to lick his lips, eyes trained on your very obvious display.

“You’re just askin’ for trouble, dollface.” He lets out a breathless laugh and looks at you with half lidded eyes as he finishes his drink. Angel looks down when you gently set a hand on his knee, then back up at you in surprise when you lean in closer to him.

“Maybe...But I don’t see you doing anything about it.” Your fingers squeeze his knee with a wink before you down your drink and get up from your seat. “Anyway I’m heading to bed. See ya around, dollface.” 

A wide grin makes its way across your lips as you mimic the pet name and blow him a kiss, purposefully sauntering your way to your room. Turning into the quiet solitude of the hallway, you make your way to your room and unlock the door. As you push it open, you’re startled by a voice behind you.

“Let’s see it then.” Angel says, bent over and a bit out of breath from running after you. With his chest still heaving slightly, he straightens himself with a hand on his hip and looks down at you with an excited look. Suddenly hearing voices coming towards you both in the hallway, he gently nudges you in the room and shuts the door. 

“H-huh?” You look up at him, confused for a moment before your eyes widen in genuine surprise. You didn’t actually think you’d get this far and now Angel was standing in your bedroom offering himself to you. 

“I said,” He leans back against the door with a set of his arms crossed, the other at his hips. “Let’s see it then.”

“I um…” You look everywhere but at him, finally settling your gaze on the floor. “Heh, uh…I just-, I didn’t know that....” Your fingers fiddle together as you try to gather your words.

“Oh, that’s real cute. You shy now?” He quickly leans forward to grab the front of your shirt and tugs you closer to him. A gasp leaves you when you're pressed against his chest, two of his hands moving to your hips and another cupping your cheek. 

“You gonna show me what this can do?” He asks, leaning in with a teasing smirk and slowly drawing his finger along your bottom lip. “...Or is it only good for running your mouth?” Your breath picks up as he bends down to hover his lips above yours. “Tell me to stop and I'll leave right now…” The tension builds between you two as neither of you move, taking in the feeling of the your breaths on each other's faces. 

“Please...” You squeak out softly, attempting to press closer to him as your hands grip the fabric of his jacket. Angel takes no time to press his lips to yours, heat fueling the pressure of the kiss. Your lips part easily for him and he coaxes a moan from you as he takes his time exploring your mouth. Keeping his hold on you, he pushes himself off the wall and walks you backwards to your bed, holding you steady as you stumble along with him. He only pulls away from the kiss to flip you both around and sits back on the bed, grabbing onto your shirt again to pull you into his lap. 

His fingers dig into the skin of your hips to pull you almost impossibly closer and his own slowly roll against you as the growing bulge in his pants makes itself known. Biting your lip, you maintain his eye contact as you reluctantly pull away to slowly drop to your knees in front of him. He immediately lifts your chin to kiss you again, deepening it when your hands reach to settle on his thighs. 

“You want it?” He breathes out when he pulls away, his gaze heatedly scanning your body. You give him a nod, but he only grins. “Yeah? Use your words baby, tell me whatcha want~” He purrs before reaching to tug down his shorts. You answer him, however you become distracted momentarily and your eyebrows knit together as something catches your eye.

“Do you always walk around commando?” He lets out a genuine laugh at your question before slowly stroking his cock. At that point, he has your full attention, your eyes flitting back and forth between his hand and his face.

“Gotta stay ready, ya know? Never know when a cutie is gonna offer to take good care of me...” Angel responds playfully before his bottom lip slips between his teeth. “Fuck...” he whispers softly as you take a hold of his member, mimicking his earlier motions. You scoot a bit closer to him and his legs spread wider to give you more room.

Leaning down, you start mouthing at his cock, not quite taking him inside, but sliding your lips and tongue along his length. When you do take the tip into your mouth, you’re rewarded by a hiss, then his hand coming to rest on the top of your head. You get lost in the feeling of him in your mouth, taking more and more of him, your own arousal apparent as his groans of pleasure grow louder. 

“That’s it baby boy…” He coos watching you with hooded eyes. “Gooood boy~” Your eyes flutter at his words and a loud whine comes from you as a hand grips into your hair. His hips slowly roll up to grind himself in your mouth and your eyes finally slip closed as he uses your mouth as he pleases. When he suddenly yanks you off his cock, you look up at him in surprise. “So dirty~” He notes, watching the spit that connects you both dribble down your chin and his length. Angel pulls you back up to make you stand between his legs and pulls you into a deep kiss tasting himself on your lips. 

The messines of his mouth on yours has you groaning into him and your hands scramble to get him to take off his upper layers. He assists you in doing so, only breaking away from the kiss to pull his shirt over his head. Soon after, he reaches to slide down your pants and underwear and begins palming between your legs. You can’t help but rut against his hand, panting softly against his lips and for a moment he lets you, watching your reactions carefully with a grin on his face.

“Suckin’ a little dick gets you worked up, huh?” He sees right through you, giggling as the snarky remark dies on your tongue. “Such a slut gettin’ off like this…”  His fingers press into you harder, focusing on sliding his fingers along the growing wetness. “Should I make you cum like this…?”

Your head rolls forward and you hold on to his wrist as you grow closer and closer to your orgasm. Angel starts stroking his length at your eagerness, allowing himself to focus on reaching his own release as well. He suddenly removes his hand from you and wraps it around your midsection, reaching around you. When he slides his fingers between your legs again from behind, he finds the edge of your entrance and presses gently along the rim. You don’t have time to react before he brings his mouth to your front and drags his tongue along where you’re most sensitive. 

The action has him groaning against you as you jerk in his hold, your hands quickly finding his shoulders as your legs grow weak. He doesn't let you pull away and holds onto you tighter, stimulating you from both ends even as you cry out his name. The slurping sounds of his tongue lapping between your legs and the slapping of him stroking his cock fills your ears as your orgasm hit you suddenly.

The tip of his finger presses into your tight hole and he continues quick flicks of his tongue against you as you cum. As you start to come down from your high, His lips wrap around your sensitive sex and sucks harshly as his hand speeds up on himself. He doesn't give you a moment of rest and continues onward as you almost fold over onto him. He groans against you and grips your ass with his free hand, exposing your hole and pulling you even closer to him.

“‘M so close baby, doin’ so good for me…” Angel murmurs against you as his hips jump into his hand. Before you know it, you’re calling out to him again as a second orgasm crashes through you, sobbing as his mouth continues against you, sucking up the arousal that leaks from you.

Only when he reaches his release does he pull away from you, resting his cheek on your tummy as he milks himself to completion. When he's finished he falls backward onto the bed and brings you with him, holding you close when your arms wrap around his neck. You both stay like that for a while before you break the silence.

“So…think I’m as good as a porn star?”

—

[annaphoenix1994]

Everlasting Lover

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

The drive back to Kiera's house was quiet. Lawson was the only one sober enough to get us back safely. If it were up to me, I would've driven, but I wasn't confident in getting everyone back in one piece as I truly had no idea where the fuck I'd be going. 

Roughly a half-hour later, the truck began rumbling as it transitioned onto the gravel driveway leading to the ranch, the lights from the main lodge catching my attention. I still yet waited to meet her parents, but that was a terrifying thought to me because by what Kiera had told me, her father was a hard man to please. 

Lawson parked the truck outside Kiera's house, tossing the keys to me as we helped Kiera get out of the passenger seat. She slung her purse over her shoulder as it was clear she was tipsy, but still aware of her surroundings. "Thanks, kid," she said to Lawson, taking the keys from me and putting them in her purse. "I may need to head out somewhere." She said to him, referring to making a sudden trip. 

"Not tonight, you're not." 

"Sun-fucker!" 

"What?" 

"You heard what I said." 

"You're right, I heard what you said, but I don't understand what the fuck that means." 

"Fun-sucker," She corrected, removing her vape pen from her Carhartt shirt pocket, taking a long drag. "That's what I meant to say." 

I shook my head with a smirk at her slurring speech, "Fucking hell, let's get you inside." 

"I know where I'm going." She said, nearly stumbling on one of the larger gravels in her driveway. 

"You sure about that?" I chuckled. "You're about to fall over, love." 

"Nope. Got two feet under me." 

"Two left feet." 

Both Lawson and Frankie began laughing, "Well, just make sure she doesn't kill herself. We're gonna head back down to the bunkhouse." 

"I can hear you, asshat." Kiera scoffed at her cousin, taking another long drag from the vape pen, embracing the feeling of an incoming nicotine high. It wasn't a good combination: liquor, beer, an empty stomach, and nicotine with an ounce of adrenaline. "I'm sorry, Simon. I just have a headache. I drank too much." 

"You're not telling me anything new," I smirked. "I'm sure it took the edge off. Now you can sleep it off." 

"Aye, Captain." 

"Lieutenant." 

"Right, sorry. I guess you're still in military mode." 

"I never come out of it, Officer." I replied, knowing she didn't like to be acknowledged as an officer unless she was on duty, just like I didn't like to be called anything other than Lieutenant when it came to titles. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, pulling out her keys from her purse to unlock the front door, snickering as she felt along the wall for the light switch as the faint blue light from her vape pen engaging with another puff gave her enough light to see where she was putting her hand. "Okay, I'm going to bed." 

"I was hoping you would," I shook my head. "Do you need anything?" 

"A million fuckin' bucks and another vape." 

"Give me that," I said, watching her take another drag from it. "That's the fifth time in two minutes you've taken a drag off of that bloody thing. Give it a rest." 

"You referred to it as a pacifier," She scoffed, frowning as I took it from her grasp. "I need it."

"What you need is to go to bed. Sleep off all that liquor that you clearly can't take." I poked, loving her reaction, especially when she arched her brows at me as if I offended her. Fuck, she was so cute. 

"I beg your damn pardon?" 

"You heard that, didn't you?" 

"Loud and fucking clear, Lieutenant. I can handle my liquor." 

"Yeah, it shows." 

"I can't with you." 

"No, you can't, that's why you're going to bed." 

"Oh, I can, I'll go get more right now if it means proving a point." 

"I'll pour it out." 

"You wouldn't dare." 

I raised his brows at her. In truth, I didn't know where she kept the whiskey, but I knew I could easily toy with her in this state, and I was taking advantage of it. I liked winding her up. It was a release for me as I couldn't recall thinking about anything military-wise while poking at her. "You clearly don't know me, then." 

"And you clearly don't know me." 

"You're right, I don't, but what I do know is that you can't handle your liquor. What happened to Adderall when I asked you back at the base why you could drink a lot and not seem drunk?"

She scoffed, "Such a jackass. And I'm out." 

"You're going to take the biscuit, love." 

"Who the fuck started talking about biscuits?" She furrowed her brows and opened her arms. 

"It means you're starting to push your luck, darling." 

"Well, now I'm hungry for biscuits." 

"Go to bed," I breathed a laugh. "I'll go get you a water." 

"Aren't you a gentleman." 

"Don't get used to it." I poked, although I was lying. I wanted her to get used to me taking care of her, because I could see myself tending to her for the rest of my life. I wanted this, yet I felt stupid because I was thinking about these things way too early. 

How does that saying go? When you know, you know? Or something like that?

I watched her walk towards her bedroom, leaving the door open as she set down her purse before turning the corner that led to her bathroom. I then searched the kitchen for a bottle of water, finding one in the fridge before hearing gagging sounds. Bloody fucking hell. 

I walked into her bedroom, which was definitely uncharted territory for me, but I didn't care. She sat on the wood floor of her bathroom, hunched over the toilet as the night's activities took their toll on her. "Least you waited until you got home." I commented, daring to step in and take a seat on the side of her bathtub. 

"Yeah, I'm just trained to throw up on command." She scoffed, and I could see that she was fighting the urge to throw up again. The smell was sour and mostly liquid - looking more like stomach bile. 

"Rough combination, love, but I'll have to give it to you - you took it like a bloke."

"Simon, speak fucking English." She sighed. 

I chuckled, shaking my head, "Sorry, let me translate for you: you took it like a champ. That better?" I asked, standing up to then get a cloth from the closet before dampening it in the sink and offering it to her.

"No, because I hate feeling like this." 

"Then don't try to have a drink-off with some stranger at a bar with whiskey after you've already had four glasses and a cocktail. It'll fuck you up every time." 

"If anyone took it like a champ, it's you. You haven't shown one sign of being drunk." 

"Because I know when to stop myself." I replied, making the move to pull her hair behind her shoulders, holding it for her before she regurgitated again, seeing it coming far before she even felt it.

"You don't have to be here at my whim. It's my fault. I don't want you to see me like this-"

"Let it all out. You'll feel better." I said, ignoring her statement. 

I wanted to be there. 

She relaxed after the next round of unmerciful bile, sitting down completely on the floor as she reached up to flush the empty remains of her stomach. I moved to sit on the edge of the bathtub, watching her skin flush to white. I then handed her another cloth, watching her press it against her forehead. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it. Here," I added, picking up the water bottle from the floor. "Don't drink it too fast or you'll be here all night." 

"Thanks for the tip." 

I breathed a chuckle, keeping my gaze on her as she looked to be searching for something. "What're you looking for?" 

"My nic-stick." 

"What in the bloody hell is that?" 

"You'd call it a Ciggie." She retorted, using my British slang against me by mocking a British accent.

I then patted the pocket of my jeans, "I don't think so. You're cut off." 

She scoffed, "It's mine. I paid for it." 

"You sure are paying the price for it right now, huh?" 

"God, I can't stand you." 

"You can't. That's why you're sitting." 

"Simon, I swear to God, if you don't shut up, I'll hit you right where it hurts." She warned, shaking her head as she noticed that I was sitting with my knees apart as it was a comfortable position for me. Manspreading, is the common term for it, but it was just comfortable. 

"Big words," I mocked, standing to my feet and offering my hand to her. She hesitated before grabbing it. "Let's go to bed." 

She tilted her head, "Wait, are-are you insinuating on going to bed with...me?" 

"I meant it as in getting you to bed."  

"Oh, well, I mean, if you wanted to, I got a nice King-sized bed in there..." She trailed off in a goofy tone, looking around playfully as if she were asking, but not asking directly. 

"I'll keep you up." I replied, not giving her a direct answer, hoping my warning of keeping her awake was enough. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my body around hers, to hold her throughout the night while I was her primary source of warmth while resting my nose against her head. God, I wanted that so bad. 

"I doubt that. I sleep like a rock." 

"Rocks don't sleep?" 

"It's a metaphor, Simon. Christ." 

"You still didn't answer my question." She cocked her head at me. 

"I don't know. I- you'll be awake all night." 

"Yes or no, Simon. Thought you were simpler than that." 

Take your fucking shot, Simon. Take it. Embrace her and protect her from her dreams. All you'll be doing is sleeping. There's no harm in that.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" 

A brief pause. 

"Yes." 

"I'll meet you there." I said, ensuring she made it back into the bedroom before I did, watching her sit on the bed as I walked by, sure that the smell of my cologne lingering in the room. 

When I returned in a change of clothes, she played on her phone, the TikTok app being her kryptonite as it distracted her from her brief sickness. She giggled at one of the many funny videos, watching me walk around the bed and sit on the edge. "Now you're hyper." I commented. 

"No. I feel better, though, but my head hurts. Now's the time to hand me back my nic-stick."

"Not a chance. You're cut off."

She rolled her eyes playfully before setting her phone aside and turning off the lamp, leaving us in complete darkness. "Good-damn-night." 

The bed rumbled from the chuckle that was stuck in my throat. I hoped that she was seeing that I was beginning to open up to her, and I hoped that she saw that I was only poking and prodding at her just to get a reaction, not to piss her off. 

I lay as stiff as a board on the bed, one arm draped over my stomach and the other folded behind my bed, my body laying over the comforter, listening to her steady breathing as she was slowly falling asleep. I knew I wouldn't fall asleep any time soon, and I was glad that I managed to bring her iPod along with me to drown out the silence. I looked over at her, reassuring myself that she was comfortable and breathing before sifting through her playlists. Living on the Sand by Colter Wall playing through the headphones I had found in the drawer of my loaned room. I then looked up at the ceiling, listening to each lyric as I imagined the song was about me. 

♪Keep that gun locked away, locked away, boy; Well, you know you're an angry young man; Going in town with six rounds you're sure to be Hell-bound; That house you've got is built on the sand...♪

I then began to wonder where Kiera's mind would go when she listened to this type of music, wondering how her energy matched with the genre. Perhaps it was the heavy strums of Colter's guitar, or Tyler Childers' raspy Appalachian voice, or Whiskey Myers' guttural lyrics - I liked it all, but it all held a darkness to it that held a lot of meaning and emotion. 

As the song ended, I kept his gaze on the rotating ceiling fan as a soft strum of a guitar played on the next song - Everlasting Lover by 49 Winchester began playing. I haven't heard the song before, but I certainly was going to listen to it. 

It enticed me as much as she did. 

♪Everlasting lover; Oh, how I owe you my gratitude; You were the first to make me feel like I ain't just some dude; Everlasting lover, baby, you've got the kindest eyes; And when mine are red and I look half dead you can't even realize; When I get stoned and feel rejected; weary from the road and half beaten down; you come off of your throne and I feel protected; Oh, and even from the bottom of the bottle I know you won't let me drown...♪

[nombre-va-aqui]

Have a chamomile, my dear. (Chamomile Cookie x F! bullied Y/N Cookie)

As Y/N Cookie closed the door of her home, she went to the living room and lay down on the couch, her face stuffed against the cushions. Then she let out a groan, emptying her lungs as a muffled scream came out of her mouth.

??: Is that you, dear?

A gentle voice spoke from the kitchen. Then Chamomile Cookie came into the living room, holding a cup of warm chamomile on her hands. She took a sit on a chair right next to the couch and patted Y/N's head gently.

Chamomile: Did you had a rough day again?

Y/N did not speak, but she nodded her head.

Chamomile: Do you wanna talk about it?

Once again, Y/N communicated nonverbally, this time saying no with her head.

Chamomile: Oh, it was one of those days, huh?

Chamomile placed her cup on the table. Then she sat next to Y/N and caressed her back as gently as possible.

Y/N Cookie didn't have it easy. She was born into a family with great magic potential, throught the generations each of the family's descendants made great and amazing achievements.

...

Everyone but her.

No matter how hard she tried, there was an unkown something that blocked her magic potential. She practiced, and practiced, and practiced, but with no progress.

Her family was disappointed in her, they soon turned their back on her and replaced her with her younger sister.

Of course, she wasn't safe in school either.

Bully 1: Come on Y/N Cookie! Do some magic! Oh, wait, you can't!

Bully 2: Pffft! She's crying! Hahah! She's so pathetic!

Y/N: *sobs* A-and then, th-they said the only ma-magic I can do i-is disappear, th-the only thing I can do right...

Chamomile: There, there. Don't listen to them, my dear. You have a great potential, you just haven't reached it yet, but I know you will soon.

Chamomile held Y/N tight on her arms, hugging her and kissing her to reassure her.

Four months ago

Y/N had locked herself inside her house, no one heard about her in a whole month now. She had enough of everyone bullying her and treating her like trash, so she decided she would never leave her house ever again.

Knock knock

Or so was her plan.

Chamomile: Hello? Is anyone home?

Y/N didn't take interest at first. But then the knock sounded again.

Chamomile: Excuse me, does Y/N Cookie live here? My name is Chamomile Cookie, I would like to meet her if it's possible.

The voice belonged to someone she didn't know and was soft and gentle, so Y/N decided to give it a chance. She opened the door slightly, so only one of her eyes could be seen.

Y/N: What is it?

Chamomile: Hello, Y/N Cookie. My name is Chamomile Cookie. Could I come in, please?

Y/N: Why? What do you want?

Chamomile: I noticed you didn't leave your home for a whole month now, and I became worried. I'm a therapist, maybe I could help you? I'll be glad to listen to anything you need to say.

Y/N: ...

The door closed... But, a second later, it opened again. Y/N had a tired expression, and the inside of her house was all messed up.

Y/N: Come in.

So, both girls talked for a few hours. Y/N opened up her feelings and emotions and shared her worries and pain, and Chamomile listened to every single word she said. It took a long session, but Chamomile convinced Y/N to give it another try. From that day on, they both had sessions together, Chamomile helped Y/N little by little but efficiently.

Now

Chamomile: Are you feeling better now, my dear?

Y/N: Yes... Thank you for listening to me...

Chamomile: No need to thank me, my love.

Chamomile kissed Y/N's cheek gently. Y/N didn't have an easy life, but Chamomile made it a bit easier.

Y/N: You are too good to be real... I don't deserve you...

Chamomile: Hush now, don't say such things. I love you with all my heart, and I promise I'll be there for you for as long as you need me.

Y/N: Thank you... I love you too...

Yeah, Y/N Cookie's life was not easy... But there was Chamomile Cookie, her ray of light in the darkness. She was insecure and felt like she didn't deserve such a wonderful girlfriend, but she was glad to have her. Chamomile Cookie was the only reason Y/N Cookie didn't give up yet, she would be fine as long as she had her by her side.

[mybworlds]

Chapter 5

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… hey there, how you doing? I need some time to write about this chapter, it was pretty hard for me. If you want to let me know what you think about the story or chapter, I'd appreciate. If you don't like, 'm sorry guys.

I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

You are very nervous, you feel a strange sensation of fear mixed with anxiety invade you and run through your body. You have never done anything like this, pretending to be someone you are not. Or rather, when you did it you weren't completely alone. You knew there was someone nearby, Peña will surely be around, but he won't be able to intervene, he won't be able to do anything. So, you will be alone.

You look at yourself in the mirror and feel the heat invade your cheeks and run down your body, you fix your hair as best you can, you try to add a little more eye shadow and you adjust the black top and red skirt you're wearing. Your shoulders feel stiff with tension, your neck is straight, stiff with concern, you're very nervous and anyone can tell. At this moment you look like anything but an escort.

Peña looks at you with a worried expression, his big dark eyes scrutinizing you carefully as if he wanted to read inside you and almost want to make his own the fear that is devouring every little part of you. The man sits at the foot of the bed bent over with his elbows planted on his thighs and does nothing but watch your every move. In other circumstances you’d have thrown a piece of clothing at him or said something to make him stop looking at you that way, but not now.

You open and close your lips several times and take deep breaths in a still futile attempt to relax. You've even dusted off some relaxation exercises, but it's all useless at the moment.

“I think, it's fine,” you say, your voice barely a whisper and filled with an ever-increasing nervousness. You clench your hands convulsively, swallowing and keeping your head down, “I should be believable,” you add, looking back at yourself in the mirror, noticing how your expression shows anything but sensuality.

“Hey, hey, hey” Javier says to you as he gets up from the bed and reaches you, you look at him through the reflection in the mirror “I'll try to get in too, maybe I can..." you lower your gaze, breathing in and out deeply “look at me.” he asks you “Please, look at me.” You look up and then turn to the man who is looking at you with barely concealed concern. “You're beautiful.” he tells you placing an index finger under your chin so that your eyes meet, reflecting each other's fear “be careful, please. If something happens to you...” the words get stuck in his throat, you watch his Adam's apple go up and down while he lays his eyes on you.

“Javi...” you say, but the truth is that you don't even know what to say. Your thoughts and emotions are like one in contrast with the other, one detached from the other. In the last few hours your relationship seems to have changed, even if you don't even know how or when this change actually happened. The fact is that you can't think of Javier Peña as a thorn in your side, as that hateful colleague with whom you started this mission.

He smiles at you, it's a sweet smile that curves his lips upwards and involves - even if only minimally - his beautiful hazel eyes. He caresses your chin with his fingertip in a gesture of unusual sweetness that smacks of a strange and new complicity that has quickly been created between you, almost as if deep down it had always been there, hidden, but perhaps already hovering among you.

“You’re gonna be fine.” he tries to calm you down without taking his eyes off yours and, if you weren't so worried about what you have to do, maybe you’d have even felt captivated by his sweet and irresistible gaze, maybe you’d have even allowed yourself to give in to some of his possible comments, but not now.

“¡Juro por Dios que si te hacen algo…!” (“I swear to God, if they do anything to you...!”) his tone of voice is a low whisper, almost a promise to you — or perhaps to himself! — that whatever happens, he will step in and come for you.

You don't even know why, but you almost feel for a second that the anxiety and fear towards El Diablo is waning to be replaced by something you don't even know how to define at the moment. Perhaps it’s the solid and reassuring presence of your colleague, his measured but vibrant tone of voice, his eyes so sweet at this moment, that small touch that almost makes you feel anchored to someone you've always openly said you didn't like, but whose absence now seems unacceptable.

The fear of not making it’s becoming so unbearable that you are forced to close your eyes and give in to this vulnerability that you have always kept to yourself and that especially up until today you had kept it hidden from Javier himself.

“Now listen, tesoro, if it’s too much for you. Okay. I’m not kidding you, I swear. Let’s talk to Diáz and let it go.” his tone of voice seems so sincere and understanding that you almost wonder what happened to the man who used to call you frigid and bitch.

Tesoro, he had never used that nickname. At least not with you. And if you hadn't been focused on something else, you’d have even felt flattered to hear that.

Even though you feel awkward about this undercover mission, you don't want all of this to have been for nothing, “No, I can do this,” you say, nodding and trying to smile, but it’s a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

He caresses your chin in a sweet gesture that makes your heart flutter, you find yourself swallowing without being able to take your eyes off his, but without being able to do anything but look at his well-defined face, his beautiful eyes, his angular nose, his well-defined mustache, his plushy pink lips. He's beautiful and it feels like you're only really looking at him now.

Suddenly you wonder when the boundaries between you broke down, bringing you to this unknown degree of intimacy, this silent feeling of well-being between you, almost as if you liked each other from the beginning. When did it begin? When did he save you from the waves of the sea? When did you walk close together on a deserted beach? When did you share a bed? When?

“I better go,” you say as if you want to put a safe distance between you and him again rather than out of any real sense of duty in carrying out this mission.

He nods, slowly moving his fingers away from your chin, but never leaving your eyes. These eyes that used to just irritate you, now seem like the only place you never want to leave.

“What do I look like?” you ask him, still looking at him with a little panic in your eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, stroking your hair in a gesture of unusual intimacy and sweetness. He runs his gaze along your body and you feel like an unknown adrenaline runs through your body. Yet you’ve had his gaze on you on more than one occasion, but you've never felt this way before.

“Maybe, it’s better to take this one off.” he tells you, focusing on a detail, and that’s when you remember that you didn’t take off the wedding ring. That ring that in a certain sense doesn’t bother you like it used to. Even though you know it's a fake wedding ring.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Yeah.” you say, slipping it off your ring finger and going to put it on the nightstand, but Javier surprises you again, making you hesitate even more if that's possible. He opens the palm of his hand as if he wanted to hold that symbol of your mission and of that strange relationship that is being established between you.

“Thank you.” you say simply inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Oh, wait. Put this on.” he says, passing you a microphone that looks like a simple button. You look at him as if to ask if it's dangerous, but he reassures you by saying “It won’t ring under metal detectors or cause any strange interference, with this on, I’ll hear you.” he says looking you in the eyes with great intensity “I mean, me and the other agents. We’ll intervene.”

You nod, before tucking it into a small pocket in your skirt. You nod as if to say goodbye, the air is becoming decidedly strange, beautiful, but strange.

“You better go now,” he tells you. The words should be a push to finally get the operation underway, but his tone of voice is anything but a push to get you out of your room.

If the moment hadn't been so dangerous and dramatic, you’d have even allowed yourself to concentrate on those small, great, sweet gestures of his towards you, you’d have noticed even more the worried and dramatic expression in his eyes, his tense features, but now you have to come back to yourself.

You simply nod at his statement and then walk out of the room. You don't know what awaits you, you're scared. Every step feels difficult, every breath feels like it's stuck in your throat, and a deep sense of nausea begins to grip the pit of your stomach.

You've practically arrived at the place which is now very crowded, there are young people, adults of all ages and you make your way with difficulty. The rhythmic music hammers your ears almost mirroring the dull beat of your heart gone mad with fear of having put yourself in a situation much bigger than you.

You force yourself not to give in completely because you know that giving in to your fear wouldn't do anyone any good. You started it all and you will finish it. Now it's all in your hands and your decisions.

You walk over to the bar and grab a beer in an attempt to loosen up a bit and appear less stiff than you feel. The sensation of modest acidity and of bitterness invade your mouth and your taste buds.

It's good. You sip it, squinting as the glass begins to finish. Your arms are less stiff than before, they almost feel soft. Your legs are light, almost as if they didn't even touch the ground. You feel like you're made of jelly.

Someone approaches you, when you turn to the one who touched your back, you realize that it’s one of El Diablo's henchmen. You can do nothing but follow the man.

The man moves aside a large dark cloth, making room for you too, who follow him a couple of steps behind. You continue along a corridor lit by green and blue neon lights, go down a long staircase that almost seems to want to swallow you.

The music that used to pierce your ears is now a distant echo that barely echoes down there. For a split second there’s a dull eerie silence, then more music reaches your ears. It's less loud than before, but still loud. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you can't help but wonder what's next.

You are so scared. Even if you don't say it out loud, Javier can see it and feel it. Your eyes are so expressive that they’re enough to let him know what you are feeling right now.

He never thought he’d care so much about you, so much that he’d feel a sensation similar to the horror of losing an important part of himself.

You're fighting fear and he notices, but you're also fighting to avoid being pushed by Javier to give up and have someone else take your place. You don't want to. Javier in a fit of fear for you and great concern, hands you a small microphone so he can hear you, he will come for you. He will certainly warn the others right away, but above all he will go after you. It doesn't matter that it’s a dangerous mission to himself, he's afraid for you. You don't know what you're getting into. He remembers very well what happened to one of his informants, he doesn't want history to repeat itself.

He doesn't know what to do, or rather he knows he can't follow you right away or it would ruin everything and that's exactly what he doesn't want. He knows you wouldn't forgive him, even if it was to save your life.

He immediately contacts Diáz who immediately alerts the CIA department. He hopes with all his heart that you are okay and that your cover holds until they intervene. Peña is impatient as the agents decide how to intervene, studying the access points to the place where El Diablo and you are.

He has an ever-increasing anxiety for you, he doesn't know what you're doing, if you're okay, if that demon is touching you or forcing you to do something against your will. He couldn't stand knowing that that man is touching you with his filthy hands, that he might be kissing you or worse, that he’s forcing you to take drugs just to submit you and bend to his will.

He hears you through the microphone he gave you, you're speaking in a tone that may seem calm, but which he has now learned to recognize as just a facade. You're doing well, but he can't be calm. Just one movement, a look or a word and everything goes haywire.

He paces back and forth, hearing the plans in the meantime to surround the building. It takes time, but you don't have hours. Time is running out.

When he’s thinking of acting alone, the go-ahead comes and he’s there in the front line running.

He doesn't know what you’re doing, if you are well, if you are sick. If you are fighting for your life or if you are simply sitting next to that little man. The truth is, he's terrified. He's terrified that you're there with him and he's not.

He can't hear you anymore, he only hears a rustling sound.

He's been on a lot of operations, he's come face to face with a lot of criminals, sending someone else - someone he cares about - on a mission is different. His biggest worry is arriving too late. He’d never forgive himself.

He’s on the front lines, they move fast with guns drawn. They are all ready for anything. They quickly enter the club full of people, the music is at full blast. They scatter among the dancers, Javier - already knowing where you entered, remembering where he saw you enter the night before - heads towards the dark curtain that hides the entrance to what he imagines is a private room.

He moves the curtain and immediately the same man he had seen the night before appears in front of him. Javier instinctively points the gun at his chest pushing him against a wall to his left and the other man, taken by surprise, raises his hands in sign of surrender.

“Where’s she?” The henchman's lips curl upwards and Javier's stomach tightens painfully causing him to suddenly feel nauseous, “Where.is.she?” he hisses, pressing the gun against him removing the trigger.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” he says chuckling and looking at him mockingly.

“No me mientas, hijo de puta. (Don't bullshit me, you son of bitch.)”

“I knew she was an undercover whore, your slut friend.” Javier is about to lunge at him, but another colleague holds him back just in time before taking the henchman into custody.

Javier is feeling like throwing up, your cover is blown and anything could have happened to you.

“Fuck.” He sighs before taking a deep breath and using a flashlight to light his way down a dark staircase barely lit by green and blue neon lights.

Down there, music echoes, the officers see many rooms in which there are men of all sorts, the drugs still in strips on the tables ready to be inhaled, some of those men have probably escorts on their lap.

“Hands up,” CIA agents shout as they encounter people they know and don’t know.

Javier continues, where are you? Where? Please, where are you?

A sudden blow to his heart comes when he remembers Helena, what she suffered in order to be free. His stomach hurts so much from the tension he feels.

Then a sinking feeling when he finds the microphone he had given you on the ground completely destroyed. Javier increases his pace and the fear of not finding you or finding you in a different state than he left you in, causes him a sharp pain almost as if he were receiving a stab in the stomach and heart.

Please, please, please, make sure you're okay, please!

He opens a lot of doors, moves the drapes used for storage, when the anxiety is taking over, he sees an emergency exit wide open, he runs out and that's when he sees a black SUV in which someone is dragging you away, while you thrash and kick to break free from his grip.

Javi runs as fast as he can, screaming for you to let go, and that's when the person dragging you away turns around and points the gun at him. Javier barely has time to hide behind a car when a projectile explodes and fortunately only hits the asphalt.

“It’s over! Let her go!” he shouts again, moving slightly to the side and making to look towards the two of you.

El Diablo holds you tightly by the neck, alternating between pointing the gun between your temple and Javier.

“I’ll kill her,” he hisses, and when Javier hears the trigger being pulled, he steps out into the open and points the gun at the man.

“It’s over.” he repeats, advancing cautiously towards you “Let her go.”

El Diablo points the gun at Javier and when he’s about to shoot, another shot is heard, paralyzing both you and Peña. The air seems to have become frozen and crystallized because neither you nor he know whether the shot fired hit one or the other.

What you do know is that each kept their eyes on the other, terrified that the other might have been hit and injured, or worse. Then, you realize that the shot was fired in the air by another agent who came up behind your almost-kidnapper.

What happens next is very confusing, you just know that Peña comes closer to you hugging you tightly to him enveloping you completely in his arms and that he feels you trembling as you abandon yourself against him.

His embrace is so strong that it almost seems like he wants to make you part of him. Peña narrows his eyes, almost relaxing against you. You're safe.

“Estás aquí, cariño. Usted está aquí. Estás a salvo, cariño.” (You're here, baby. You're here. You're safe, baby.) His words flow from his heart with such naturalness and passion that your eyes fill with tears.

He feels you relax against him and then wrap your arms around his neck, “Javi,” you murmur with such tenderness that he almost feels his heart explode with the strong emotion, “please, take me away.” you whisper this plea in his ear resting your head against his shoulder.

“I’m holding you, I’m not leaving you,” he says, putting an arm around your waist and holding you close.

In other circumstances perhaps you’d have rejected him with revulsion condemning that gesture as something excessive, but not now, thinks Javier as he takes you away from there seeing lines of cars loading people from that monster's circle. Javier in other circumstances would have thrown some of them in himself, but now you are the priority. His priority.

When you get back to your room, the only thing you can do is rush to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You look in the mirror and see how this undercover mission has reduced you: your makeup is completely smudged, the top you were hiding the microphone in is half open, your skirt is torn in one corner. You rush to the sink and wash yourself frantically as if you wanted to erase everything that was the undercover mission. You open the sink and put your hands in the basin, the water completely wets your hands and you can't move a muscle, you're like paralyzed.

It’s you who insisted on having an active role in this mission, it’s you who proposed yourself and now look at where this obstinacy of yours has led you and how it has reduced you.

You felt like a piece of flesh without a will, as if you were not even a person, but an object in the hands of a madman. All of this makes you feel suddenly useless, as if you don't even have the right to feel everything you're feeling right now.

“If you need me, I’m out here.” You hear Javier’s voice far away, as if he wasn’t even really outside the door.

Your head is spinning and your stomach is in knots. You go back to staring at your reflection in the mirror, as if you couldn’t reconcile how you feel and what you see.

You feel broken, violated, and shattered. Your throat burns as if something has burned and scraped your throat.

It hurts. Everything hurts.

You place a hand on your throat, rivulets of water running down your neck ending up in the crease between your breasts. Your eyes fill with tears at the mere memory and as if in an attempt to escape that memory, you run out of the bathroom and open the door.

Javier is right behind the door and so as you leave you throw yourself, albeit involuntarily, against his chest. His arms immediately close around you and then places a hand behind your neck.

“You're safe now." He whispers softly in your ear, almost cradling you in his arms.

“Javi…” You moan as you let go and burst into tears, clutching his shirt tightly in your fist. You rub your face against his shirt, completely forgetting about your already smudged makeup.

“I am here, pequeño,” he whispers softly, as you sob, holding onto him even tighter. He gently caresses your wet cheek and places a kiss on your head, “Why don’t you change? You’ll take off these clothes, take a hot shower and then lie down for a bit.” he offers you without malice in his voice and you appreciate his attention towards you so much.

“Thanks, but I can't.” You say, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling more tears flying and wetting the cuff of his shirt.

Javi strokes your jawline, then places his thumb where there was a tear, wiping it away. He repeats the same gesture over and over again until you calm down and you can finally look him in the eye.

He doesn't say anything and you don't say anything. You stare at each other as if you're trying to talk with just your eyes. His eyes in this light seem to be almost black and it's as if they want to swallow you, you find yourself swallowing hard but unable to stop staring into his eyes and occasionally looking at his lips that seem so soft.

“Shall we sit down? It’s been a tough night for both of us.” You sniff, then nod and look down.

You and Javier sit on the bed. You are sitting on the tip as if you are going to run away at any moment, “Baby,” he calls making you look up at him again “now, you'll be fine." He caresses your cheek so gently that you almost dive into his arms again. It's not that bad to be close to him, even though you've always felt disgusted by the mere idea of being intimate with him.

“Javi,” you barely murmur his name “I was stupid for thinking I could do this. I’m stupid. Maybe I should turn in my badge, maybe…” you start babbling nonsensically.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop! Don't even say that.” he says, taking your face in his hands and caressing your cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re shocked and that’s normal. It’ll get better in the next few days.” His lips curve slightly upwards “I’ll be by your side.” He tells you “If you want.” He quickly adds. “But in any case, never think that you are stupid, understand? You are not at all. You are one of the best agents I’ve ever met. Confident, determined and stubborn.” he says again smiling at you and making you smile weakly “We make a great team, you and me.”

You feel so vulnerable right now that his words almost feel like a punch in the stomach and don't make you feel better, they just make your eyes fill with tears. You were really afraid that they’d rape and kill you down there.

Javier lets his gaze wander along your body, but he does it neither with lust nor with mockery, he has a strange light in his eyes almost as if he felt pain for you and with you.

Silence falls between you, but it's a silence that feels like a hug and a sweet caress, it's not unpleasant despite the situation.

“Why don’t you go wear something more comfortable?” he suggests, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You nod, looking at the man next to you with a look full of gratitude, you would never have expected such care from him. You've always seen him as a tombeur de femme, as someone who will do anything to get what he wants. Tonight he could have been the protagonist of yet another arrest and slammed into another crime and instead he chose to be with you and not leave you alone in a moment like this.

“Thank you.” you say in a trembling breath.

“Don’t even say that,” he says, smiling at you. “Do you want a pair of sweatpants? I’ll get them for you,” he offers kindly, and your heart fills with a strange, great tenderness towards him.

“No, thanks. I do it myself.” you say, slowly standing up and approaching the closet where you keep your suitcase. You choose a pair of sweatpants and a short-sleeved t-shirt, “I'm going.” you say, pointing to the bathroom door, he simply nods.

As you close the door, you see him take off his jacket and remove the belt in which he has the gun. Only when you get back into the bathroom do you realize that you forgot the faucet on and that the water is still running. You turn it off. You take a deep breath and change.

When you come out of the bathroom, you find Javier lying down. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and long pants. He looks up at you, at your face. You notice how tired his face is, he's right, it's been a long and difficult evening for both of you.

“Light on or off?” he asks as soon as you lie down next to him.

“Javi, would you hug me?” you ask, turning your torso towards him.

He smiles sweetly at you and it's the first time that you reciprocate with tenderness too, he doesn't answer, but hugs you directly leaving the light on, while you close your eyes and you abandon yourself to that sweet, warm embrace.

It's not bad at all. His sweet and strong embrace manages to take away — even if only in part — all the fear accumulated in the last few hours, now all you need is to relax and try to surrender to that sweetness. Peña envelops you completely, his warm breath tickles your hair and neck and you find yourself smiling thinking about how much you tried to push him away and how much he himself tried to push you away and yet now you're here huddled together thinking that you're not so bad after all.