#sorry if it was sitting there for a while i never got a notification

[themyscirah]

I have so many Simon thoughts and I can’t believe the one to lick them all off was this: but would he draw the line at pork?

Just saw this ask now so apologies if it's been sitting in my inbox for a while!

Quick mention here that I'm not Muslim myself and most of my (limited) knowledge comes from talking with friends irl and the internet

but i believe Simon wouldn't eat pork. I don't think it's something he's ever really tried, especially growing up and living in Dearborn, which has one of the highest Muslim populations in the US, there wouldn't be a super high presence of it (I'm assuming) or social pressures surrounding eating it from his peers, who im assuming are also predominantly Muslim from what we know of his friendships precanon.

To be honest, I think the religiously prohibited substance he'd be most inclined to/likely to have consumed at some point to be alcohol. I mean when we meet Simon, he's fallen on hard times, like he's lost his job and turned to stealing cars and feels like he's let down his family and community, especially at least after the events that follow with him getting the ring the way he did. I'm not saying here that I think he did drink before we meet him in canon, but I think it's more likely to have happened than him eating pork, especially with the social pressures and societal depiction of alcohol the way they are.

Simon and his relationship with religion is something very interesting to me (that I admittedly know very little about) as there definitely seems to be a contradiction in some of his actions, with Simon quoting the Quran at Guy and talking about how much his religion means to him one page, and then of course having a tattoo that also means a lot to him (but is banned by his religion) at the same time. I think this more complex relationship with religion is something very human about Simon as a character, as people and their relationships with religion are oftentimes complicated and not cut and dry. It does make it difficult for his fans though as theres a lot we dont know, as Simon's relationship with religion is one I think could really use more exploration on page, especially in regard to this contradiction and his relationship with the rules of Islam as a whole.

[krosiefics]

let’s fulfill the prophecy • minsung x reader

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: you and your best friends, Minho and Jisung, don’t mind talking about your sex lives and desires. Though one night when Jisung makes a suggestion about a fantasy all three of you share, you can’t help but take the offer.

WC: 2.9k

Warnings: PURE SMUT, pwp, smut, afab!reader, softdom!minho, switch!reader, sub!jisung, bsf!minho, bsf!jisung, piv, unprotected sex (PEE AFTER SEX AND USE PROTECTION), same hole double penetration, threesome, vaginal sex, double creampie, jisung is super vocal while minho isn’t, oral (f&m receiving), nippleplay (f&m receiving), some m/m action, breeding kink, pet names (baby, princess, pretty, good boy), friends to idk what(lovers???)…probably forgetting some- tee hee sorry

a/n: imma go touch grass now just like chan told us

Even though your two best friends are boys, you never thought much about talking to them about your sex life, they never hindered from telling you theirs either. So tonight didn’t seem any different.

The three of you gathered around the short wooden coffee table that laid in the middle of the living room, blabbing about things that happened this week.

“Ooh! There was a girl that was all over Minho this week!” Jisung exclaimed as if he just remembered the most important thing in the world. His words peeked your interests, you turned your gaze over to the previously mentioned boy, giving him a knowing look.

Minho’s shoulders rose from being put on the spot, “She wasn’t all over me…she was just there?” Minho furrowed his brows in a questioning manner. “She was totally into you! She was hot too!” Jisung said matter-a-factly, crossing his arms and jutting out his chin. Minho simply rolled his eyes at him.

Minho isn’t necessarily the type to have one-night stands unlike Jisung who likes to play around a bit. “Well what about you Ji? You’ve snuck your way into anyone’s pants this week?” Minho changes the subject. Jisung’s eyes usually light up like a kid on Christmas when he’s asked about his sex life. Liking to recall everything while you and Minho just sit there listening…internally disturbed at some of the things he says.

Though, this time, Jisung’s eyes didn’t have that spark. The round cheeked boy simply shook his head, “I’ve been left blue balled all week. That one girl I told yall about got a family emergency notification while we were grinding on each other!” Jisung threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

You let out a snort and Minho chuckles at his words. “What about you?”

“Me? Nah, haven’t gotten laid in a few weeks. Though when I went to the bar last weekend these two random dudes offered to do a three way with me-“

“Shit, a threesome sounds like so much fun! I wanna do one!” Jisung cut you off, “How was it?!”

“Well if you would let me fucking finish- I turned them down cuz my friend I was with puked.”

“Aww, would you have said yes if she hadn’t puked?” Minho pokes at you jokingly.

“Yeah probably, it’s seems like it’d be intresting- but at the same time I’d want them to be trustable people since I’m guessing it’d hurt like fuck! Don’t wanna be just left to clean up myself, you know.”

As you rambled you failed to notice Jisung suggestively nudging Minho with his elbow. Minho stared between him and you, before realizing what Jisung was indicating. “Jisung what the fuck?” The black haired boy stared at the younger. You look between the two confused.

“Oh c'mon Min! It’d be fun don’t ya think?!” Jisung whined, Minho continued staring at him as if he was crazy. “What is it?”

“This dumbass just suggested that we have a threesome.” Minho spat, though he’d never admit aloud that the idea slightly aroused him.

“Wait…you wanna try it too, right Ji?” You ask, Jisung nods frantically in response. “Do you wanna try it Min?” Minho stared at you as if you’d lost your mind by agreeing with Jisung. “I mean…I guess, but won’t you think it’s weird?”

“Oh c’mon! It’s for scientific research to determine if we like it or not.” You whine just as Jisung had done prior. “I guess.” He answered unsure. You notice his uneasiness, “Hey, if you don’t wanna do it we won’t.” Minho smiled at you appreciatively, “No, I want to do it.”

“Are we doing this or what?” Jisung grinned, popping up from his spot on the floor and making his way to your bedroom door. Your heart raced with anticipation, you’d be lying if you said you’d hadn’t thought about this before…when your best friends are as hot as Minho and Jisung are, how could you not fantasize about them at least one time.

You bolted up from your spot on the floor and towards your bedroom, pulling Jisung inside. “C’mon Min!” Jisung called out to the elder who just watched as the two of his best friends just ran off to a room to have sex together. Nonetheless, Minho rose from his spot, walking towards your now open bedroom door. As Minho neared the door, he watched as Jisung had his lips attached to your neck.

You tilt your head, allowing him more space to nibble and suck at. Your eyes shifted to the man who was standing at your door, you motioned for him to come over. “We’re actually doing this then?”

Minho sighed, arousal shooting quickly to his cock. “We can stop if you want.” You stated, Jisung whining at your words. Minho shook his head as he neared the two of you. “You guys are actually insane.” The feline-eyed boy chuckles, cupping your cheek in his hand. You melt into his touch with a sigh.

Small moans began flowing from your mouth as Jisung bit down along your collarbone before licking a stripe on the spot. “Ji,” You scrunch your eyes, hands flying to his hair. Jisung pulled away from your neck with a smirk. As Jisung fully removes himself from you, Minho decides to take the lead and back you towards the bed, falling onto the bed when the back of your knees hit the mattress.

Minho guided you gently to lay down. “You sure you want this?” He stared down at you, he noticed how flushed your cheeks were and the multiple marks that Jisung had left on your skin. “God yes, shit, this might just be an excuse at this point.” You bashfully confess, turning your head away to avoid eye contact. “Oh, she thinks we’re hot!” Jisung piped up, you felt the weight of the bed dip to your left. Jisung hovered over you, his face coming into your sight. “Don’t worry babe, I’ve thought about this before too. How could I not, you two are ridiculously hot.” He grins before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

Your eyes follow Jisung’s as he turns his gaze to Minho who just stands there, lip caught between his teeth. “He’s probably fantasized about this more though.” Though you weren't looking at him, you knew he wore a teasing smirk. “Oh fuck you Ji.” Minho groaned, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, “That’s what I’m trying for you to do.” Growing annoyed, Minho pushes Jisung onto the bed, harsher than how he guided you down.

“Hey pretty,” Minho turned his gaze to you, his eyes burning with lust, “Wanna help me out with this one while I take care of you?” You can feel your heart hammering in your chest, Minho’s sudden change in demeanor fully arousing you. You quickly rise from the bed and straddle Jisung’s hips. Jisung stares up at you with rosey cheeks. “You gonna take care of me baby- oh fuck!” His teasing was cut short with the roll of your hips. His hands fly up to your hips, trying to guide you to move faster, but you’re faster, slapping his hands away. “If you’re a good boy I’ll let you touch later.”

Jisung groans loudly at your words, you note how his cock twitched under you at the pet name. You continue rolling your hips into his, soft whimpers falling from both of your mouths. Suddenly, a pair of hands start trailing along the curves of your body, trailing their way down to the hem of your t-shirt. You could feel Minho’s warmth behind you. His hands stop right at the hem, as if the boy behind you were asking to continue. You were quick to nod, pleas flowing from your mouth.

Minho tugged your shirt up and over your head, your chest now almost fully exposed to your best friends. Jisung watched as you grind down on him as Minho took your shirt off. He could see how your nipples pebbled through your bra. Jisung’s hands unconsciously moved to touch them, but yet again you smacked them away before he could touch you. “What did I say?” You tsked.

Jisung simply whined. “Shirt.” You order below, he’s quick to understand what you mean, peeling his shirt from his body, tossing it somewhere in the room.

You stared down at the flushed boy, his abs flexed and his nipples hardened. You reach down and pinch one of his nubs, twisting and pulling at it as whines flow from Jisung’s mouth. “Fuck, baby c’mon! Lemme touch you already…I wanna touch you.” He babbles. You hunch over, taking one of his nipples in your mouth, nibbling at the nub teasingly as Jisung’s cock throbbed against your cunt. “Holy fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Suddenly you’re pulled away from Jisung’s chest. Hands harshly gripping your hips before hesitantly cupping your breasts, you throw your head back, resting it on Minho’s shoulder. Minho takes this as a chance to suck at the skin of your neck. Trailing his teeth along your neck before leaving feather kisses under your ear.

Your hips rolled needily into Jisung below you. The latter staring up with an arousal driven gaze as he watched you grind into him, the feeling of your warmth against him, Minho kneading at your tits and his mouth all over your skin…the skin that he, Jisung, wanted to so desperately touch. “Baby…please. I’ve been a good boy- I’ll keep being a good boy, just let me touch you.” Jisung fisted the sheets next to him as your hips edged him towards his climax.

“Fuck, Imma cum.” He warned. And almost immediately you lifted yourself from him, a broken moan slipping past his lips from the loss of friction, Minho also frowning at the loss of contact with your tits. “Baby, why’d you do that?”

“You said you were gonna be a good boy, no?” You teased him, his round cheeks flushing an impossibly deeper shade of red. You smirk at his reaction.

You tugged at the elastic waistband of your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs till you could kick them off somewhere. Both Jisung and Minho watched as you removed the articles of clothing, the sight making their cocks throb in their pants. “Min, care to help tease him for a bit.” You offered, your eyes burning into Jisung’s. Minho nodded, his eyes turning towards the younger boy. Minho didn’t fail to notice the bulge Jisung was sporting through his jeans.

“Pretty boy, you want help with these?” Minho smirked, his fingers trailing along the hem of Jisung’s jeans, looping around one of the belt loops. “God please- fuck Min!” Jisung groaned, willing to do anything at this point to be touched or touch someone. Jisung reached for Minho’s wrist but stopped himself, assuming he’d get rejected again.

Minho let out a deep chuckle before wrapping his fingers around Jisung’s wrist and guiding it to his face. “I’ll let you touch me for now.” He cocked his head as his fingers worked Jisung’s zipper down. You watched as the two boys maneuvered around to get Jisung undressed, until Jisung laid there fully naked. His cock erected, resting on his lower abdomen. Your mouth watered as you stared at the pretty boy’s cock. You wanted him in your mouth- no you needed him in your mouth.

“Minnie, can you prep me?” You asked Minho though your eyes remained on Jisung’s cock. Minho’s gaze shifted from Jisung to you. He noticed your staring and shifted over, freeing up space between Jisung’s legs. “You sure?” Minho asked as you bent over, leaving your ass exposed to him. “Yeah, I am…are you guys?”

“Fuck yeah.” Minho breathed out. “Can one of yal fucking touch me…please?” Jisung cried out, his cock leaking precum as it throbbed painfully.

You roll your eyes playfully before leaning in and taking the whining boy into your mouth. A waterfall of ‘fucks’ and ‘so good baby’ fell from his mouth, Jisung’s eyes screwed shut, but not until he started feeling vibrations against his cock. His eyes snap open, seeing how you took his cock into his mouth so easily, your lips so pink and wet around his shaft.

Another wave of vibrations surrounded his cock, he finally noticed that they were your moans. Your moans as Minho ate you out from behind, wet sounds of your juices mixing with his spit as his fingers pumped into your sopping cunt. “Fuck Min, keep doing that! She’s taking me so well!” Jisung cried out, his knuckles were white with how tight he was holding on to the sheets, just like how he was holding off his climax as best he could.

“I think you’re good now, pretty.” Minho said with a huff, his face wet with your arousal. You pulled away from Jisung’s throbbing cock with a ‘pop’.

Swinging your legs over the younger’s hips, straddling him as you had previously. “You ready Ji?”

“More than ready, princess.” Your eyes go wide at the sudden nickname, your heart unreasonably hammering into your chest. You shake your head out of it. The messy haired boy hisses as you guide his cock towards your entrance.

You sink down slowly onto his cock, the two of you letting out pornographic moans at the feeling. His cock fit you so well, you could feel every vein and curve of his cock as you unconsciously clenched around him, prompting him to buck his hips slightly.

Jisung’s gaze fell on your face, how your eyes scrunched up with pleasure as you began rolling your hips onto his, the new feeling already edging you both towards an orgasm. His gaze fell to your lips and how they formed a small ‘o’ shape as breathy moans left them. Fuck, he wanted to kiss you so bad. You must’ve picked up on his desire because before the two of you knew it, you were kissing.

Lips moving sloppily against each other as your hips started moving faster and as Jisung started thrusting into you. “Sungie.” You whimpered into the kiss, his hands flying to your face, cupping your cheeks gently. Jisung didn’t even care if you’d be upset at him touching you. But you didn’t care, you need his hands in you. “I’m right here princess.” He cooed as his hands made their way down to your hips, steadily holding as he thrust into you.

You moan into the kiss when you feel something else probing at your entrance. It was Minho’s finger. The older boy watched as his younger friends made out like hormonal teenagers. His finger traced along the rim of your pussy which was currently taking Jisung. “I’ve waited a bit, no?”

Minho smirked as he pushed his finger inside your hole, both you and Jisung letting out moans.

Minho worked his fingers in and out of you, stretching your hole even more while Jisung pounded into you. “You ready?” Minho asked, his hands rubbing circles on your waist. “God, need to feel both of you- fuck, now please Min- fuck Sungie!”

“Oh fuck!” Jisung and you moaned simultaneously as Minho pushed his cock into your tight cunt. The stinging pain of both of their cocks only turning you on more. “Fuck, Imma cum- fucking shit.” Jisung warned, his cock twitching deep inside you along Minho’s. “Fu...f-fill me up- you’ve been a good boyf fill me up baby.” You slump your head against his as Minho pounds you from behind.

Jisung spills over the edge, filling you up with every last drop of his seed, your pussy milking him so perfectly. Minho continued rutting into you, Jisung cried out from the overstimulation but nonetheless didn’t pull out. “Fuck, Minnie Imma cum- fuck Min!” A tear fell from your eye as your mind went blank with ecstasy. Your climax hit you like a truck as you squirted around both of their cocks, leaving Jisung’s abdomen soaked.

“Fucking hell.” Minho grunted at how tight you clenched around him that it sent him over the end. His hips stuttered as he filled you with his seed, both his and Jisung mixing within yours.

Your body felt limp as they both pulled out. The icky feeling of their cum rushing down your thighs made you cringe. Minho guided you to lay on your back before running off somewhere.

Both you and Jisung laid there staring at the ceiling, chest heaving and faces flushed.

“We just did that.” You huffed out a laugh.

“We just did that.” Jisung confirms, his voice sounding so raspy.

Minho returned with a warm towel, nudging your legs open before cleaning you. “I love you guys.” You said after cleaning up everything. Minho turned to you with a small smile on his face, his hands moved to cup your cheek before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips. The two of you pull away, a grumble catching both of your attentions. Your gaze shifted to Jisung who pouted, wanting a kiss for himself.

You giggle before giving him a kiss as well. Jisung melts into your touch so easily, “I love you guys too.” He sighed into the kiss, pulling away before cuddling you into his chest. “You guys are still crazy for that.”

“Oh c’mon Min, you know you liked it.” You scoff, the feeling of Minho’s arms wrapping around both you and Jisung comforting you. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I love you guys too.”

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day ten.

Jealous Lando (2.2k words)

summary: Something unleashes inside Lando when you run into one of your coworkers, his shameless invitation making him want to remind you who you belong to.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, blow job, fingering, jealous!lando, possessive!lando.

You found yourselves sitting in a somewhat fancy café in Austin, enjoying the warm weather as he told you about his day.

Lando had been a little bit busy with the duties that carried being a Formula One driver, so any little time you could spend with each other was well appreciated, so sitting really close to him in one of the couches as you sipped your coffee was nice.

However, you took a few days of vacations to go with him to the American races, but that didn’t mean you were completely off the hook since you carried your laptop everywhere in case you needed to get something done, which is what happened right now.

You got a notification on your phone from what seemed like an important email, so you pulled your laptop out to take a look at the file your boss had shared with you, promising Lando it wouldn’t take more than five minutes.

It had been like fifteen minutes and you were still reviewing it, now with your phone on your ear while you talked with someone about this new project you were supposed to take over once you got back as Lando had your computer on his lap.

He didn’t really mind, or at least that was what he always told you. Here is the thing: he understood that your job was important for you, and he appreciated the fact that you took a few days just so you could be with him, but sometimes he just wished you could quit so he could take you everywhere with him without having to worry about you focusing on a screen instead of him.

Was that selfish? Maybe, but who could blame him for wanting his girlfriend to be all his? 

You would never describe Lando as the possessive type, and maybe it was because he never voiced his concerns out loud. He was jealous sometimes, that’s for sure, but possessive? Not really.

“Sorry, baby. I really had to take this,” you said as you hung up the phone.

“It’s okay, but I don’t understand why you still have to do all of this if you are supposed to be on vacation.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I thought I would be able to go the full month without having to do any of this,” you sighed as you took one last look at the email. “I will try to stay off work for the rest of the time we are together, I promise.”

That really pissed him off. If you were on vacation, shouldn’t you be able to enjoy it? Lando was building up the courage to tell you what he had been thinking pretty much your entire relationship, carefully thinking about his words. “Maybe you should quit-”

“Oh, hi Y/N,” a random voice interrupted him, making both of you look up. You both saw one of your coworkers standing there, entirely ruining Lando’s plan to covince you to leave your job and become a full-time wag. He could already feel his blood boiling.

“Oh- hi,” you replied, trying to remember the guy’s name. 

“I didn’t know you were here. I mean, I knew you were off, but I assumed you were just staying home. Nice to see you are enjoying your free time travelling.” He was completely ignoring Lando, not directing a single word to him, not even a quick glare, and Lando didn’t like that. Not one bit. 

“Yeah, I took time off to go to a few races,” you said, motioning your head towards your now upset boyfriend. “What about you?”

“I’m here to attend my brother’s wedding,” he said with a small laugh. “But I didn’t bring anyone with me, so it will be a bit awkward to be the best man without a date.”

Lando already knew where this was going, and he was using all his self-control not to punch the guy in the face and tell him to fuck off. They were in a public place anyway, and he knew his team would not like to see something like this hit the news, but man, the guy really deserved it.

“Hey, unless you are free tomorrow. Would you be interested in coming with me? You know, free food and free buzz. Big party.” At that moment, Lando felt his coherent thoughts leave his mind, his hand finding a place on your thigh and squeezing it softly as he killed him with a glare.

“We’re busy, actually, can’t you see?” Lando finally spoke, in a tone you had never heard before, as he pointed to the open laptop that still rested on his lap.

“Oh, I didn’t mean right now," the guy replied, finally acknowledging Lando’s presence, but he turned to face you again. “There is a rehearsal tonight, but tomorrow-”

“We have plans for tomorrow." Lando interrupted, bringing you closer to him with his hand still gripping your thigh. “Don’t we?” He said, looking at you.

You looked back at him, slightly blushing at your boyfriend’s actions. “Yeah, sorry… uh”

“Joe”

“Right, Joe,” you repeated, giving him a friendly smile “Sorry, Joe.”

“Good luck being alone at the wedding though." Lando wasn’t trying to be friendly at all; if anything, he just wanted him to stop hitting on you and leave immediately. “See you around, mate.”

Joe looked at you, as if he were asking you for confirmation to leave. “I’ll see you back at the office,” you said, waving him goodbye.

Joe sighed loudly as he started to walk away, and Lando smiled proudly and kissed your temple.

“Wow, I knew you were jealous, but I didn’t think you were that jealous," you whispered, placing your hand on top of his.

“I’m not,” he frowned his eyebrows as if he was being falsely accused. “We’re just really busy.”

He stared at you with eyes full of... anger? You weren’t sure, but you knew for a fact that he’d be leaving marks on your thigh if he kept gripping you like that.

“You know I would’ve said no, right? You didn’t have to scare him off like that.”

“We’re leaving.” Was all he replied, taking his hand away as he closed your laptop, standing up and walking away from where you were sitting.

You tried to follow him, but he was walking so quick he was already waiting in the car when you got there. You let out a sigh as you opened the door, sitting beside him as you tried to think of something you could say to get his mind off what just happened.

“So, it’s a sprint weekend. You haven’t done one of those in a while.”

But he barely let out a sound at your words, at least acknowledging that you were talking to him but not caring enough to say something back. That’s how it was for the rest of the ride back to the hotel, you trying to talk about anything and him just grunting, and by the way he was gripping the stearing wheel, you knew he wouldn’t let this go any time soon.

Once he parked the car, he got out and waited for you a few seconds to collect your things and be next to him, grabbing your hand tightly as he guided you to the elevator and back to your room, and as soon as you were inside, he dropped your hand and found a seat on the small couch that was placed next to the hotel bed, staring at you as if he was waiting for you to apologise for something that wasn’t even your fault.

“Lando, let’s not do this, please. I would have never in a million years accepted to go with him, even if you weren’t there-”

“On your knees.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief after a few seconds of silence as he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down until they were pooling on his ankles.

“You heard me, go on.” 

You slowly made your way there, watching him as he slowly pumped his length. At this point, you weren’t even thinking clearly anymore, and doing as he said just came naturally to you, so you dropped to your knees once you were in front of him, swallowing harshly when he motioned his head towards his angry cock.

Not thinking twice, you took him in your mouth and started working on it, knowing teasing him right now was far from a good idea. 

“Why don’t you take some more, love?” He said as he quickly took a hold of your hair, pushing your head down his shaft.

You could really feel his size because of the stretch your mouth feels, which you always did, but given the situation, it somehow felt more prominent. Your cheeks were hollowing around him, and one of your hands was wrapped around his base as your other one gripped his thigh, nails digging into his tanned skin.

“You know you are mine, right?” He asked you in a shaky tone. “No other guys but me should be thinking about talking to you, asking you to be their date- ah- only I get to have you like this, so pretty with your mouth around my cock.”

You let out a moan at his words, secretly loving this side of your boyfriend, and the vibrations made him let out another moan as he used his grip on your hair to guide your movements.

“No one else will ever see you like this, right, baby?” You tried and failed to nod your head; you didn’t even have control anymore, you were just trying to follow what Lando was silently instructing you to do.

His hold was getting tighter as you sucked his crown, which made him let out the deepest moan you have ever heard from him as his fingers tightened even more, unintentionally bucking his hips up once. You gagged around his cock, taking it gracefully as mascara tears rolled down your face.

“Shit, I could have you like this at all times. You are doing so good, angel.” His words were breathy and full of bliss as he got closer and closer to his release.

The way his cock twitched inside you and his thighs tensed under your hand made you know he was seconds away, the echoes of his moans bouncing off the walls as he started thrusting his hips up, his cock hitting deep inside your throat. With one last hit, you felt his hot cum filling your mouth, some of it smearing on the sides as you happily swallowed all of it, making you slow your movements down with his hand.

When he started to catch his breath, he pulled your head off his cock, dropping your hair and patting his lap so you would sit there, which you immediately obeyed.

“Why don’t you quit that stupid job so I don’t have to worry about assholes like him hitting on you?” Lando’s hands were roaming your thighs, slightly parting them as his hand sneaked into your underwear. 

Your breath hitched when his fingers explored your folds, finally landing on your clit with an insane pressure. He started rubbing hard circles, his mouth so close to your neck you could feel his hot breath.

“You are mine.” A moan scaped your lips at this. “Say it.”

“I’m yours, all yours.” 

As soon as you said this, one of his fingers entered your desperate hole, quickly finding a pace for you. He was desperate to make you come, and you knew he would get it within minutes if he kept playing with you like this.

Lando found a place on your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as he dipped a second finger inside you. “You think anyone else could make you feel this good? Mhm?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers gripping his thighs.

“Good.”

You weren’t sure if it was his fingers or his words, but your stomach was quickly building up that familiar feeling as your hips started moving against his hand, making him use one more finger as you completely lost yourself in pleasure.

“Lando- fuck.”

“That’s it. Cum for me, love.”

His teeth were niping the skin on your shoulder, and only seconds before your orgasm hit you, you let out a loud moan, making him smile as he somehow fastened his pace.

With a few more pumps, a wave of bliss travelled through your body, your head falling back and into his shoulder as he helped you through your orgasm. At this point, your body had stopped moving, and all you could do was moan and squirm under his touch.

“‘s too much,” you managed to say.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” 

“Say you are mine.”

“I’m- ah- I’m yours, Lando, only yours. Shit” You complied as a string of moans scaped your parted lips.

“Good girl,” he said, finally taking his hand away from your sensitive pussy and kissing you, slow and possessive as one of his fingers cleaned the cum that was still on the side of your mouth. “Now, let’s get you changed. We’re going to dinner.” Lando softly pushed you off his lap, standing up as he pulled his trousers back up. “Oh, and make sure to wear that black dress I love so much.”

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[suguae]

Haunted

part one

I tried my best to tag as many people!

The long awaited part two! I'm so sorry if this doesn't live up to your guys expectations! I really felt like so much people were waiting for a part two and I've been so busy, but hopefully you all enjoy!

You were like a shot of espresso, a ray of sunlight and one would be so lucky just to even be in your presence.

That's how he saw it at least. The gummy smile that was glued on your face as you listened to Megumi's silly stories he'd make up just to entertain you.

Wherever you stepped foot, the mood would lighten drastically.

He knew that because if you were here with him right now, Megumi wouldn't be crying his heart out begging his dad to call you. Toji wouldn't be struggling to fall asleep as he looked at your side of the bed imagining you there. He wouldn't be crossing his fingers hoping that every notification on his phone would be you.

"The princess and prince got married and lived happily ever after." You smiled as Megumi watched you close the book in awe. His cheeks were painted with a light pink, "You and Daddy?" You couldn't help but giggle at cute sleepy Megumi.

"No..." You whispered, noticing his eyes getting heavy.

Toji's eyes shifted towards you and his baby boy on the shared bed, Megumi of course having one of his fits and you never being able to say no to him. His heart felt heavy, hearing the cold truth slip from your mouth.

"You've been out of it Fushiguro..."

There he was back to reality in his cold—big office. Standing in front of him was Shiu, his best and his closest employee. "Zenin." Toji corrected which caught Shiu by surprise. Toji was proud to have his wife's last name, yet here he is using his last name.

No wedding ring? Shiu thought to himself, looking at Toji’s empty fingers. But in fact his fingers were not empty, because there sat the dark purple promise ring you had gotten him for your third year anniversary. Shiu smiled to himself, he was moving on—for the better. 

“You and Y/n are doing better, I guess?” He sighs, taking a couple steps towards his boss’s desk and plopping himself on the chair in front of him. His smile fading hearing the vague no, coming from his boss. 

“She left actually, but it’s better this way.” 

“Is it?” 

“No, it’s not.” You smiled as the soft yellow light from the candle illuminated onto your face. How Toji’s heart melted when he saw that little sparkle in your eyes. “I actually love kids.” Your eyes shifted to the little stroller after Toji mentioned how stupid it was to try to go on dates as he had a whole baby. 

“It’s been rough ever since my wife passed.” 

He remembers that look on your face when he told you how recently his wife had passed. It was the first date, he brought his son and mentioned his dead wife. There was no way he would ever see you again after that. But he was wrong because you always found your way back.

“Daddy—gumi hungry!” The little boy pouted as Toji noticed the burning smell of the food. It had been way too much now, spacing out every chance he had just to think about you.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

He wonders if you’re doing better now that you left him.

Probably, right?

Wrong.

“You need to clean this place up, it’s a mess y/n.” Your mom says entering your small apartment. The tiny cans of energy drinks scattered around the place, tissues and a pile of blankets on the couch.

She sighed watching your frail body sit up from the couch, her arm wrapped around your body and she placed small kisses on your forehead.

“It’s gonna take a while to get back on his feet. When your father passed away, it took years for me to officially realize that he was gone y/n.”

That’s what hurt the most, how long was Toji willing to take to realize? What if he forgets about you?

“Go back to your daily life, my baby he will call you when he’s ready. I see the love in his eyes.” She smiled once more before bringing you closer in her embrace.

This is what you needed.

The embrace of someone else’s while your life was slowly changing.

His thumb hovered over your contact. His hands shaking as the tears swell in his eyes. It’s been well over six months since the break up.

Toji was more than ready.

He was just afraid now, afraid of the fact that the women he had a past with moved on and would reject his return.

His thumb firmly pressing the dial button as he brings his phone up towards his ear. He could feel his throat closing and his stomach churning.

“Hello?”

<- previous next part ->

taglist: @ssc7514@utarts@my1guilty1pleasures@bangchansthings@nxxun-blog@sidelnes@khaleesihavilliard@wr4inn@r0ckst4rjk@iwishigotswallowed@ryumurin@traacy-lin@aikori6@slowlyswimmingmoon@mikyapixie@dreamlessnight@maliakealoha

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[kammazi]

★ katsuki and yourself weren’t big drinkers. sure after you two had graduated, you had gone to a few parties here and there but you were never a fan of the whole spinning dizzy feeling that alcohol brought with it, especially since you two are heroes. patrolling while hungover under the heat of the hot summer sun was dreadful.

so when you get a call from katsuki one evening while you were on patrol saying how kirishimas and the rest of the guys were going out for a few, who were you to say no? even though you knew the invitation for yourself always stood, katsuki needed some time for himself and by the time you would get off patrol it would already be past midnight.

so after exchanging some ‘i love you’s’, you disconnected the call and got back to whatever strolling you were doing.

and as the night went on you got more and more notifications that buzzed in your back pocket from who you assumed was your boyfriend. you eventually had a quick break and chugged an energy drink while fishing for your phone.

you let out a snort of laughter and looked around to make sure no one heard you before looking back down at your screen. there you saw multiple pictures took by denki of him standing on what you assumed was a stool while taking 0.5 picture’s of katsuki. what made you laugh even more was his flushed face and droopy eyes that held no fight in them as he stood there with his hands by his sides.

you could tell that he had drank quite a bit and as your break came to an end you had a short two hours left of your shift before you were able to finally get home and most likely take care of your said boyfriend.

and you were correct because as soon as you even such as stepped in through the doors of your shared apartment your phone once again started buzzing, this time it was a call.

“hello?” there was a shuffling noise before shouting hit your eardrums along with the music that blasted in the background.

“HEYY LOOK, ARE YOU-” you grimaced as you hear a glass breaking alongside some yelling. “huh? hello?”

the phone was picked back up. “THIS IS KIRISHIMA, KATSUKI IS KINDA REALLY DRUNK AND-” you then heard a whooshing sound and another crash. you stood there looking at your phone and then brining it close to your ear again. “uhh..kiri..shima?”

you heard the phone being picked up and panting into the microphone. “SORRY I JUST LAUNCHED MY PHONE HALFWAY ACROSS THE DANCE FLOOR AND IT HIT SOMEONE IN THE FACE.” you had to physically distance yourself from the phone before answering.

“kiri you don’t have to yell i can hear you!” you felt as if it was a screaming competition at that point. you heard a cackle before kirishimas finally got to the point.

“sorry, sorry! it’s just that bakubro got hella drunk and he’s kinda unmovable right now. he keeps saying your name and won’t really listen to anyone, would it be alright if you could come and pick him up?”

you were already picking up your keys and sliding on your shoes. “of course, be there in five.”

and so here you were pulling into the parking spot outside of the front doors of the building.

as you stepped in, you already felt exhaustion hitting you as you strolled around to try and find your boyfriend and those goons.

and then you saw him, sitting in a corner seat, with a cute sleepy look on his face, arms still crossed as always. kneeling in front of him, you saw denki, sero and kiri sitting across as they helped gather his stuff. you placed a palm against his face and patted his knee with the other.

“kats, love?” he groaned and slightly opened his eyes. “hey i’m gonna take you home okay?” and then suddenly, he moves his face away from your hand as his face held something like a mix of disgust and offence.

“get those damn hands away from me. i’ve a girlfriend.” although his speech was slurred you blinked before letting out a chuckle as the guys behind you hollered and stumbled over eachother.

you raised a brow, amused to see him act that way. “oh really? sorry about that kats, i won’t do it again.” his face whipped around to face you as he grimaced again. “oi. don’t call me that. only she can and you ain’t her.. so back off...” his sentence held no malicious intent as his head slowly tipped back. “where is she. i miss her.”

kirishima then came up next to you and patted his back. “bro shes right here! see?” in response to his words, katsuki raised his head and squinted at you for a while before slowly smiling. “heyy it’s my girlfriend.” immediately his head landed on your shoulder. he started babbling as he wrapped his arms around your frame, almost knocking you to the floor from the sudden weight. in the meantime, you glanced at his red headed friend.

“i’m sorry how much did he drink?” in response he scratched the back of his neck before holding up three fingers. “JESUS KIRI THREE BOTTLES?” kirishimas shook his head before cackling. “three drinks.”

now you knew your boyfriend was a lightweight but this was a tad too funny to you, not that you would ever tell him.. obviously.

with the help of kirishima, you managed to walk out a stumbling katsuki and just about sat him in the passenger seat before strapping him in as he babbled on about how much he missed you. sero and denki handed over his wallet and phone to you and you thanked them before saying your goodbyes as you sat behind the wheel.

on the drive back katsuki acted like he hadn’t seen you in months by the way he held your hand and kissed it every two seconds. with him telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you where. in that moment you could not only feel somewhat giddy but be thankful for having this man in your life. no matter how tough he looked or acted, it really was true that he was a softy, drunk or not.

after arriving, getting him into bed wasn’t even a problem. he listened to your every word as he clung to you like a koala. you helped him brush his teeth on the toilet seat as you sat on his lap. even while drunk, his grip was still firm but gentle.

you then got him changed, him getting stuck in his t-shirt a few times, and you both finally climbed into bed. there was pure silence other that his quiet snores as he rested on your chest. as expected, he ended up passing out the second he wrapped his arms around you.

as you pressed a kiss on his forehead, you could once again feel the wave of exhaustion crashing over you as the warm pressure of katsuki’s body lulled you to sleep.

and in the morning katsuki awoke with not only a headache but also a lovely picture of his drunken state as a 0.5 printed and framed photo hanging in the living room as a forever reminder of that night.

[mejaemin]

nonchalant - jeon wonwoo

wc: 0.9k

summary: clingy wonu /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

warnings: streamer!wonu, writer!reader, fluff, not proofread !!!

an: i can think of so many ways to make a pt.2 to this… will i? nope!

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the letters on your laptop’s keyboard are surely to start fading any time soon, but it’s worth it. especially right now. there’s yet to be a single time where you’ve felt this much inspiration in your entire career, so you refuse to let this go to waste. your eyes flicker to the notebook sitting next to you, information on the paper translating in your mind and being typed out into coherent sentences on the document.

you’re really proud of what you’ve written so far. you had your boyfriend read your unorganized thoughts you had set out for the plot and what not, and he thinks it’s good too. once your brain felt ready to start writing the real thing, your fingers were flying. you slipped your headphones on, essentially blocking out the entire world as you worked. you started when it was still light out, and you’ve only gotten up to use the bathroom, really. it’s dark now, and although he’s not working quite as hard, you can still sense your boyfriend moving around the house, making commentary as he pre records gaming content.

he’s left you alone so far. he’s not the type to nag you too much about taking care of yourself, especially when he’s already learnt his lesson about interrupting you when you have one of these moments of inspiration. not to mention he has times like this too, even if it was for something like a long term livestream. still, he treats you how he would want to be treated in the same situation. by that he means undisturbed… with the occasional interruption, of course. he likes to have his game time but if he isn’t filming he still wants to be with you.

your phone is on do not disturb, keeping wonwoo’s obnoxious friends and their instagram reel notifications from disturbing your work, so when a message notification dings through your headphones you know who it is.

won🖤: Are you almost done yet?

won🖤: I’ve finished recording.

you: no, sorry love :( i still have some left in me.

you: just a little more, okay?

won🖤: Just a little more. I try not to be that guy, but you really should stop soon. Eat something

you reacted with 👍

setting your phone down, you crack your knuckles with a sigh. you were reaching the end of your inspiration spark, so you really wanted to rush to get whatever you could in. it’s extremely rare that this happens, and you couldn’t stress it enough. you’ve got deadlines to meet, and for this to happen to you was literally perfect. you’re basically set, and might even be able to take a day off tomorrow.

you’ve gotten back onto your groove, putting the music on high while you work. you’re typing word after word, paragraph after paragraph flawlessly. everything you’ve been mapping out for weeks is finally coming to fruition, and it’s doing so perfectly. you’re so zoned in that you don’t notice when wonwoo comes in, only taking note of his presence when the weight shifts on the bed and his head lands on your shoulder.

you pause, pulling the headphones off your head. “do you need something?” you ask, hand instinctively coming to brush through his hair.

he looks up at you, and you’re sure he doesn’t notice the way he’s pouting. it’s rare that he’d be like that voluntarily. “how far are you? you’re almost done?”

“mm, i don’t think so.. sorry. i really need to make the most of this or else i’ll never get this finished.” you kiss the top of his head, and as soon as you put your hand back towards the keyboard he grabs it.

“you’ve been sitting here all day.”

“yeah, i noticed. but i’ll do just a little more, ‘kay?” you kiss his crown and return to work.

you finish the second to last plot point you had mapped out, and now you’re just revising what you done so far. even by your own standards you’ve done enough, and since wonwoo is indirectly begging you to spend time with him (in his own way) by clinging to your side, you suppose you can stop for now. it hasn’t even been that long and you can see him looking from his phone to you every three seconds. it’s cute really, how he’s trying so hard to be nonchalant about it when he wants to spend time with you so bad. every time he wants your attention, he sort of hovers around you and stares at you until you give it to him. he’ll never say it out loud, but he’s definitely going to be obvious about it in other ways.

you shut your computer and set it on the night stand, turning towards him fully. the corners of wonwoo’s mouth twitch as he tried to hold back his smile, but you know he’s happy that he’s won.

“you’re done now? are you gonna go back to work, or are you really done?” he asks, sitting up and readjusting his glasses.

you giggle at his cuteness, kissing his cheek. “yes, nonu. you’ve got my full, undivided attention now, ‘kay?”

he’s already up before you are, rambling about how excited he is to spend the rest of the night with you, even if it’s already late. he’s walking into the kitchen to make ramen for you, talking about eating it together while watching something, and then stopping to ponder about what to do after. you trail behind him, a smile on your face. your nonchalant, black cat boyfriend who uses very few words will throw it all out the window if it means getting your attention and keeping it for a good moment.

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[pucksandpower]

Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

[hannieehaee]

Please i just want to read a smut about having a rough sex with hoshi because he's jealous when he heard his gf got confessed by her male friend. 👉👈 (It would be nice if he won't stop even if you cry in pain, saying that it's a punishment) (Just skip this if you're uncomfortable..)

18+ / mdi

content: jealous!soonyoung, smut, established relationship, he acts a little toxic but not that much, rough sex but completely consensual, afab reader, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1807

a/n: thank u for the request!!

masterlist

"babe, can i borrow your phone? i left mine in my gym bag and i'm too lazy to go get it," soonyoung mumbled as he laid down on your lap, hair being played with and thoroughly comfortable.

"yeah, here," you handed it to him without much thought.

neither of you had a tendency to go through each other's phones, but you had exchanged passwords and were very casual about picking up the other's phones whenever you felt like it. there was too much trust between you to really overthink these things. which wad why you had no issue giving him your phone while he didn't have his own at hand.

soonyoung laid there for a while, perusing instagram and other social medias while you read an ebook, holding it with one hand while playing with his hair with the other. you didn't pay much mind to him while you entertained yourself with your story, and the same could be said about him.

the calm silence accompanied by some show playing in the background was interrupted mere minutes later by a characteristically loud gasp from soonyoung.

"babe, who the hell is this loser?", he asked, rushing to sit up beside you and showing you your phone.

"hm? who?" you barely looked up from your book as he pressed to your side.

"some loser. cooper," he huffed.

on screen was a conversation he'd seemingly pulled up, with the name 'cooper coworker' displayed at the top. it took a few seconds for it to dawn on you what you were looking at.

"oh. that's just my coworker. why? what'd he say?", you didn't care too much about the conversation, but you were slightly curious as to why soonyoung had pulled it up. it wasn't really like him to check your messages.

"the notification just popped up so i went on it, sorry," he was sheepish about it before fully handing you the phone, letting you take a look at the conversation in question, "but, uh, what does he mean by this?"

there were a few prior messages to the newer ones, which were all from different time stamps and very tame in nature, usually just being shift trades or confirmations about work projects. the final few were the ones soonyoung had accidentally intercepted before you could check.

from: cooper coworker

hey can we talk about what happened the other day?

the first one was tame enough, suddenly reminding you of what'd happened a few weeks back, but the poor boy practically vibrating next to you made you opt to keep reading before clarifying the situation to him.

from: cooper coworker

i just wanted to see if you'd reconsider. i'd really like to take you out

i felt like you were just dismissing me with the whole boyfriend thing. i asked belinda and she said she's never seen you with any guy

anyways my offer for dinner's still up if you wanna

it amused you for the most part. the original interaction had been so tame and forgettable you'd completely disregarded the whole thing as soon as it happened.

cooper wasnt someone you saw on a daily basis, so his name hadnt registered when soonyoung had told you who the message was from. when he came up to you to ask if you'd like to have dinner, you were slightly surprised, not entirely sure of who he was. the easiest thing to say in response was that you had a boyfriend and werent interested (which was very much the truth). he had simply nodded in response and mostly taken it like a champ.

you wish you could say that his insistence surprised you, but it was a classic guy move. to act nonchalant at rejection only to come back ten times as insistent as before.

the situation made you wanna roll your eyes and just block him, but you guessed that maybe soonyoung would want an explanation sometime soon before his entire body combusted. the sight was cute, at least.

you sighed, "it's just some guy from work who asked me out, soonie. nothing too important."

that wasn't enough for him.

he whined, nudging your knee as he put the phone down, "what does he mean by 'the whole boyfriend thing'? what, do you work with this loser? who does he think he is? i'm your lockscreen, what the fuck is wrong with him? should i go talk to him? i'll do it, babe, just-"

"soonyoung! it's fine. i'll block him if it makes you feel better. i never talk to him anyways. everyone else at work knows i have a boyfriend. it's just some stupid guy. no threat whatsoever," you reassured him.

that seemed to calm him down momentarily. his breath evened and his rambling halted. he remained quiet for a few seconds before speaking up again.

"that's not good enough."

"what?"

suddenly he got up, grabbing your phone in one hand and your arm with the other and leading you out of the living room. within moments you were in your room, being pushed towards your bed and losing your balance and falling onto it.

"soonyoung, what the fuck-"

throwing your phone onto the bed, he approached you, telling you to keep facing forward as he pushed you further onto the bed. undoing his sweats as he approached you. his tone had been cold and entirely void of emotion, causing your brain to go numb and follow along with his instruction. you'd been too distracted by the removal of your own sweats to hear his following instruction, causing him to harshly pull you against him to get your attention before repeating himself.

"w-what?"

"i said, text him. tell him you're not interested and block him."

that was easy enough.

you reached over to the phone he'd thrown onto the bed and opened it back up, searching for the conversation in order to draft up a message.

but before you were even able to start, a huge distraction entered you.

immediately upon penetrating you, soonyoung went at it like crazy. it was like he had zero concern for anything other than fucking his entire essence into you.

you screamed out at the sudden intrusion and continued to gasp and mewl at the consequent thrusts into your hole. your hands shook as you gripped onto the phone, elbows hurting from putting your weight on them in order to hold onto the phone.

but soonyoung didnt care. no, on the contrary, any time you'd scream out his name, he'd go even harder, fingers surely bruising your hips due to how harshly he held onto you.

"i don't see you texting him, baby," he huffed in between thrusts, "need me to dictate it to you? brain too cockdrunk to think?"

he was mocking you, but he was right. you were usually nicely moist for him, but the moment he threw you onto the bed, it was like your mind was taken over by a docile and horny version of yourself, making you lose any ability to think for yourself by every passing moment.

unable to respond properly, you nodded, moving to try and type whatever he'd tell you to type.

"tell him to never contact you again, or else your boyfriend might get mad, okay, baby? tell him, fuck, tell him you already have the perfect guy taking care of you every night," he groaned in between thrusts, huffing and puffing at how tight you'd get for him.

you typed up the message to the best of your ability, surely getting a ton of typos in the process but not caring enough to correct them. this guy was nothing compared to soonyoung, especially not in this moment. the message in itself was slightly embarrassing to share with some random coworker, but your brain wasn't working properly at the moment.

hitting send, you thought that'd be the end of it. that now you'd be able to enjoy soonyoung's cock in peace. except that bastard replied immediately, and soonyoung managed to catch it from behind you.

suddenly, he started hammering even harder into you, genuine anger filling his veins at the response you'd received.

from: cooper coworker

lol that sounds kinda toxic. u deserve better than that guy

"'toxic'? did he just call me toxic?," he gaped between gasped breaths, "block him," he demanded, "block that fucking dumbass, i- fuck, i'm gonna-"

that's when he started going as hard as humanly possible, still letting out expletives against the coworker you'd forgotten about the moment you'd gone back home that day to your soonyoung. it hurt, but it hurt so good. it was the most pleasurable pain you'd ever felt. surely it'd lead to traces of pain after the fact, but it all felt worth it as soonyoung hammered into you with all strength available in his body.

"h-hurts, soonie, it's too much ..." you managed to sigh out, arms giving out under you and head pressing onto the mattress.

the comforter under you quickly became damp with a mixture if tears and drool, but you were too brain dead to process it.

"no, baby, this ... this, fucking shit, is to show you that you're mine. that no idiot guy can even think of, shit, fuck, of looking your way," he practically growled.

his labored breath accompanied by his broken sentences told you all you needed to know. you were about to be filled up by his load and there was nothing you wanted more. you'd never been claimed by someone in such a way and the euphoria that came with it was addictive.

with more curses and filthy expletives, soonyoung filled you up. his warmth inside you led to your own orgasm, making you completely fall onto the bed the moment he pulled out and took away his hold on you.

you didn't have any time to whine at the loss before he reappeared and began hastily cleaning you up, laying you on your back so he could kiss your cheek as he wiped at the drool and tears drying on your face.

when you opened your eyes, you found a completely different image of the soonyoung who had just defiled you to hell and back. staring back at you wad a hamster-faced cutie with some sort of worry in his eyes. his smile was sheepish and his movements way softer than usual. you couldn't left a giggle leaving your lips, which in turn caused him to relax and chuckle back.

"uh, sorry about that. just- uh, i got mad, i think ... at him! not at you! you're perfect," he rambled on in usual soonyoung fashion.

he was the cutest thing ever.

"it's okay, soonie. i'm not mad. feel free to do that again any time you want," you sat up to give him a kiss, earning a happy hum from him.

"oh, ah, yes. noted."

[pedgito]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 | Lucien De Leon x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.

author's note | in my heart, it's still flores. but canonically its de leon. i had the opportunity to watch the movie and hot take, it was...alright. but pedro's character made me just as feral as i expected. so here's this absolute monster for no reason other than, well, me ovulating.

content warning | 18+ mdni, the uninvited spoilers, set post-movie, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, reader works in the film industry, financial hardship, shitty living situations, lucien is a schmooze and a drunk, but also a sweetheart, angst, feelings, reader has shit luck with dating, there's also smut in here somewhere i swear (oral, couch sex, unprotected piv, all the good stuff)

word count — 11k (sorry lmfao)

“Lucien?” You grumble around the chewy granola bar you’ve snatched from the craft table, “Lucien De Leon?”

The agent, Lucien’s agent—James, also working for a few of the on-set cast, looked hopeless.

He nods, squeezing tight at the phone in his hand, one more inconvenience text from snapping it in half.

“No,” You refuse, chewing at the sweet and sticky granola, “why—why me? My tiny apartment?”

“He’s exhausted any other chance,” The agent explains vaguely—yeah, real convincing, this guy, “listen—I like you, you’ve helped me in plenty of binds. It’ll be two weeks before he’s leaving for work, I just need somewhere to keep him for a while.”

“You’re making it seem like I’d be dog sitting or something,” You retort, watching as the agent glanced down at his phone, notifications spilling in, “this is Lucien—controversy magnet, and he’s rude—”

“You’ve gotta get to know him—”

“The one set I’ve worked on with him he spilled my coffee on me and acted like I made him do it. Fuck him, tell him to sleep on a bench.”

“I’ll pay you,” He scrambles, “Just—please?”

You pause, narrowing your gaze. Being a production assistant hadn’t been the life of luxury, minimal pay in an overpriced city in a shitty apartment with barely decent and affordable rent was nothing short of miserable.

“How much?”

“A thousand,” He offers—a shrug of uncertainty follows.

Silence stretches.

“Two thousand? Come on–that’s a thousand for each week.”

“Make it three and you’ve got a deal.”

The agent is quiet for a few seconds before he caves, sighing heavily, “Fuck, fine. Three. Can I drop him off tonight?”

“Tonight?” You balk, “You know, you’re actually the worst.”

His hands grip your shoulders, shaking you with far too much force than needed, “You’re a lifesaver, thank you.”

He’s long gone and buried in a phone call before you grumble a disgruntled, “You’re welcome.”

-

You consider later that evening that disclosing the recent…activities around your apartment complex would have been a good idea, especially with someone as high profile as Lucien taking up space in your one bedroom apartment.

Three break-ins in the past two weeks, noisy and unruly neighbors both above and sandwiching you—it wasn’t exactly peaceful or safe, but it was something. 

You wait with a creeping anxiety as you tap your chopsticks against the homemade ramen you’ve made for yourself, one true moment of happiness in the day as you’re finally sitting down to relax, feet aching terribly.

It was coffee runs and constant back and forths over forgotten supplies or paperwork—it was the perfect job to keep you active and on your toes, never sure when someone might blow up on you for whatever reason it may be—you were nothing special, helpful, but when it came down to it, you were more or less in the way, so you often made yourself small out of habit. 

The knock that startles you is hurried, like a panic. It sends your heart rate skyrocketing but your name echoes on the other side of the door, scrambling to open the door, you’re faced with two men.

The agent, James, a decent man despite his unorganized and erratic personality—and Lucien, a piss poor disguise covering his face.

You snort, addressing the ball cap and sunglasses with an amused expression, it was doing nothing to cover the instantly recognizable wispy brown hair of his and aquiline nose—the upcoming king of stage and screen. It was a wonder he even made it here in one piece.

“A natural chameleon,” You joke, widening your door to let them inside—the apartment was clean, thankfully. You’d scramble to get home after work and pick up, given you didn’t have much time to actually prepare, “seriously—get inside before someone clocks you.”

The agent stays though, like his feet were planted.

“He’s all yours,” He tells you, “you’ve got my number—don’t let him leave. I’ll check in when I can. Keep an eye out for paps.”

“Hey, no—” You interject, watching as the agent turned on his heels and departed, “we didn’t agree to—”, turning the corner with a shout of a long, helpless, “that!”

You sigh with a deep frown, turning over your shoulder to find Lucien with a chopstick in hand, noodle dangling from the utensil with a curious face, sniffing it cautiously. 

“Hey!” You chastise, plucking the chopstick from his fingers, “Stop that.”

He looks at you curiously, obviously taken aback by your tone of voice and lack of intimidation by him, like a startled cat.

Jesus, okay.

You force a calming breath through your nose and look up at him, “Would you like some?”

“Is it gluten free?” Lucien inquires, peering over your shoulder at the still steaming hot bowl of soup.

“Actually, yeah,” Your brow furrows, “it—it is.”

“Sure,” He shrugs, beginning to remove his cap and glasses, along with his jacket, resting them haphazardly on the kitchen island as he takes a seat on the only other unoccupied barstool in your kitchen.

“Oh no,” You swiftly rectify his actions, “we’re not doing this—there’s a coat rack for a reason and a shelf by the door for things like,” You walk toward the front door, hand circling the object like a cherished belonging, “keys—sunglasses, hats,” You stress the final two words and point at the items before jutting your thumb frustratingly at the door, “—if you don’t mind, while I make your dinner.”

It was clear he’s spent most of the past several years with people ready and waiting on him, never questioning or ordering around, but it was basic human decency, you weren’t going to allow him to be amiss to it.

He obliges quietly, a surprise to you. You hide the satisfied smirk as you pour the broth into the bowl along with the noodles before placing the bowl on his side of the island, placing another dish near him, scattered with different toppings.

Lucien looks silently intrigued, the ends of his mouth curling down in interest as he sprinkles various toppings over his food, beginning to eat silently as you return to your own meal.

After a long enough silence and Lucien’s occasional slurping you decide to set a hard boundary, given the various personalities you’ve dealt with in the industry, it was you being proactive out of habit.

“Let me be clear, I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” You inform him, locking eyes with his intense stare, something you hadn’t forgotten, not since the on-set incident, “This is still my home. Don’t be an asshole about it.”

“James said you were a firecracker,” Lucien smirks slightly, resting his chopsticks along the top of the bowl, “and a little bit of a bitch, but—”

“Good, he hasn’t lost his mind then.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a professional at this shit now. You won’t even know I’m here.”

Highly unlikely, you think.

He even makes a point by grabbing his bowl and emptying it before placing it in the sink before extending his hand out to your own bowl. You watch him wash the dishes, something that looks unnatural, but you aren’t going to complain.

“You always cook like that?” Lucien asks curiously over the running water, head turning over his shoulder briefly.

“No, only Friday. I never have time otherwise, work is…busy,” A generous way to describe it, but Lucien doesn’t seem to care or question, drying off the last dish before extending his hands out by his side in a grand gesture.

Maybe he was expecting a roaring applause, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. You offer him a genuine thank you but it doesn’t extend beyond that before you’re trailing a few feet over toward the living room, a clean pillow and blanket draped over the couch, along with a fitted sheet if he felt like using it. It was all unmade, allowing him to set it up himself.

“Also,” You clasp your hands together at your front, “James didn’t mention this because I didn’t tell him but we’ve had a string of break-ins for a while now, so—always keep the deadbolt locked. Please.”

His eyes widen, looking around the apartment for the quickest escape. You were on the seventh floor, the only other escape option was a less than reliable balcony that you barely used.

“I have a bat,” You tell him, before pointing toward the door beside the entrance, “in the shoe closet, but I think we’re okay.”

“Think?”

You shrug, “It hasn’t happened yet, but the police have shit response time around here.”

Lucien looks overwhelmed, but nods.

“Oh, and the neighbors like to have really loud sex—walls are thin. Have fun.”

“No puedo creer esta mierda—” He mumbles under his breath as you turn your back, a sharp flap of a sheet, and a short laugh from you follows.

“Blame your agent, Lucien.”

He didn’t think you’d understand him, but your astute hearing proved otherwise. 

Lucien was putting on an act with his gesture, clearly. 

He doesn’t respond, pouting his way through the process of setting up his new bed for the next couple weeks in silence, ignoring the soft click to your door as you turn in for the night, the creeping and soft city noises filtering in through the thin apartment walls.

It wouldn’t be an easy night but he's never really liked big, empty houses anyways.

—

The weekend is uneventful; you fear it might be a dream, too good to be true, a complete fluke.

Maybe he had a change of heart overnight, but Lucien is overly polite.

He deconstructs his bed both mornings, packing it away in a corner of the living room, listening to the television at a reasonable volume with fresh coffee in the coffee pot, he cleans up his dishes and leaves a marginal mess. 

The real kicker—he has the ability to keep the toilet seat down with your now shared bathroom attached to your bedroom, a real…gentleman. 

You eyed him suspiciously most of the day, when he’s unaware and preoccupied, wondering when the facade would drop. Does he even remember the coffee incident? 

He had to, right?

He approaches with a silent gesture of his emptied cup as you fill your own.

Fine—you pull the cup from his grip and fill it to the brim, sliding it back over carefully.

He sips gingerly as he raises it to his lip before speaking, “S’good coffee.”

“Thanks,” You answer nonchalantly, pouring a generous amount of sugar and cream into your coffee and stirring, watching as the dark black lightened into a soft brown, “are you a coffee guy?”

“I’m an anything guy,” Lucien responds, “but—good, it’s good. I’m impressed.”

“Why?” You ask with a little more bark than needed, a flippant tone rounding out your morning irritation as you readied for work. “Are you—you really don’t remember, do you?”

Lucien raised his eyebrows in question, expectant.

“Your last job, up in Hollywood Hills. You spilled coffee all over me, blamed me, then got me suspended for a week, because of your outburst. I barely managed rent that month”

His eyes narrow, recollecting the thought like he’d been stricken with temporary amnesia.

“You’re all so much of the same, y’know?” You continue, sipping generously from your cup as his face relaxes, following your movements with a casual glance. “Cocky, egotistical, little dicked men. Without me you wouldn’t have that ridiculous fifteen dollar hyper whateverthefuck water you insisted you needed in your trailer, or your dry cleaning? God forbid. Seriously, fuck you.”

“Wait—” Lucien staunches, hold his hand up in pause, “hold on—”

You wait for approximately half a second before you roll your eyes, pushing beyond him to gather your bag and keys, “You know, I don’t need a disingenuous apology. I’m not doing this as a favor. I’m being paid.”

James had lied to him, that much he was figuring out as he processed the situation. You weren’t someone offering up free charity, a helping hand for a starving actor in need—except that wasn’t the case for him. Despite his team's careful guidance; he was a repeat offender of bad choices and money management, a part-time alcoholic, and a serial flirt. He knew how to play his hand and he was good at it, but with you—it was clear that you were a challenge.

But, it was only a couple weeks. He could survive that. He was a people person first and foremost and he’d charm the hell out of you if given the opportunity. 

“James said he’d be by in an hour to pick you up for your meetings today—lock the door when you leave. Please.”

Still speechless, he watches you leave with a stiff, crisp shut of the door.

He couldn’t remember, racking his brain for one incident after another. His own fair share made him cringe in hindsight, but he…couldn’t remember. He’d almost hoped you were a fresh face, leaving him free of judgment, but it was clear that this situation was about pure survival.

-

“You did do that,” James confirmed to him as they left the first brand meeting that morning, “It was the morning of the big awards show—you remember?” He doesn’t wait for Lucien’s response, continuing, “Poor kid got her ass chewed out and had to take a trip to the clinic for the burns. It was…a mess. Never cried, though. I’ll give her that.”

And, like a strike of a match, it floods back. You’re shocked expression, mouth slightly agape as the sting of pain settled in, bracing for the impact of Lucien’s wrath because you knew. A man allergic to accountability, oozing power, it was almost too easy.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Apologies seem pointless now, but it could help. But…be genuine.”

“I’m genuine.”

James gives him a certain look, one that argues otherwise.

“I am.”

Only time would tell, really.

By the end of your work day, it was with great relief as you stepped through the door of your apartment until you remembered one fine detail you had told Lucien more than once.

Lock the door.

The eeriness hits you as the door clicks shut behind you, the place falling into a dead silence for a brief moment, your bag hitting the counter as you maneuvered your keys between your fingers, ready to take on what you could with what little strength you had to offer.

Just maul their face off, that seemed like the best option.

You count the seconds in your head, breath held tight and constricted in your chest. You quickly check the available pathways—living room, kitchen, before slipping down the hall, left with the only room to flee if not away from your apartment.

Bedroom light off, not a thing out of place, pristine even—but your eyes track toward the bathroom light seeping underneath the gap in the door. With careful, measured movements you approach the door although you haven’t thought through the actual process of what you wanted to do.

But, before you can react the door is swinging open as the bathroom is plunged into darkness, revealing a sopping wet Lucien, towel tied tight around his waist as he slings a smaller one over his shoulders, completely relaxed until he spots you.

Both of you scream—you out of anger and fear, Lucien at the incoming hand that he snatches by the wrist, your eyes landing on each other, your nostrils flaring in frustration.

“You’re insane!” Lucien shouts, shoving your hand away, “You nearly tore my face off.”

“I thought you were an intruder,” You seethe, “—what kind of maniac showers with the front door unlocked while home alone?”

“You said you had a bat,” Lucien excuses, “I could have defended myself.”

You sigh, plucking the keys from your grip before you toss them on your bed, stepping away from Lucien and away from the radiating heat of his body as it glistened, obnoxiously.

“Get out,” You snap, “get out—go—”

“I was just gonna…grab my clothes and come change in,” He weakly gestures toward the bathroom, earning a sharp look of distaste in his direction, “alright—alright, Jesus.”

He pauses for a moment, though. Before the lightbulb clicks on and he’s scrambling into the living room and back in record time, shoving a small white envelope into your hands.

“What is this?” You ask tensely, blindly ripping at the seal as you stare at him.

“It’s uh—what I owe you, for the coffee thing. I…I remember now. Figured I could pay you for the work I made you miss…is that about right?”

You peer at the wad of cash. It was indeed, enough.

“You’re unbelievable,” You reply, shaking your head.

It gives him false hope, wondering if it was all going to be brushed under the rug and that he could continue the rest of his stay in a somewhat semblance of peace, but then your expression flips and oh…that’s not…

“Are you physically incapable of saying the words “I’m sorry”—would it kill you? Allergic to accountability? God, you know what, I’m gonna call James and tell him I just can’t do—”

“No,” Lucien panics, hand around your bicep as you attempt to push past him, immediately recognizing the fierceness of his grip he loosens it, calms himself, “no—please, listen…I…I didn’t think you’d care enough to hear it. I do remember now and I was a dick, I was trying to offer a gesture of good faith. Peace, even?”

“Is this even your money?” You ask curiously, brow furrowed as you help up the envelope.

“Yeah, yeah—I pulled it out of my savings. Why? Do you…not want it?”

You quickly snatch the envelope away, “No, I’ll take it. But, words mean a lot. Like calling me an ignorant little bitch.”

“Okay, okay. I am sorry. I had a lot going on and I know that isn’t an excuse either, but I am.”

You tilt your head in examination, peering through the raw emotion on his face, whether he was putting on a masterclass in acting or not, it was believable enough. You could remain bitter, even if it meant suffering in silence, but you liked the peace just as much as he, so you compromise.

“You still have to get out,” You inform him, walking your fingers tauntingly toward the door, “and I swear, Lucien, if you used all the hot water—”

-

Lucien was insistent about rehearsing at least five hours a day, even on weekends. Luckily, most of those days you were spared, but when you’re barricaded away in your bedroom, sound travels. And Lucien doesn't care much to stifle his performance, maybe it was a weapon to backfire at your inconsiderate neighbors, but it was driving you insane.

He’s stuck on one scene, clearly a building tension that explodes and apparently he can’t nail, having heard the lines a hundred times over through the muffled walls—your first instinct was to complain, tell him take it elsewhere, but you remember your deal with James. Lucien just needed a place to stay for a while and this was his job.

Eventually, you poke your head through your bedroom door with a cautious expression, watching Lucien examine his face in the mirror, filing through various emotions before he finally gives up, tossing the script against the counter.

He spots you as he turns, already gearing up to apologize or maybe even excuse—but instead, you speak.

“Is it for an audition?”

“How’d you know?”

“The yelling, the emotion—I guess? I help on set with self tapes from time to time. I’ve learned to spot the difference between just memorizing lines and trying to feel the script.”

Lucien pushes his lips out in thought, tongue rolling over his teeth as his hands settle against his hips, pushing the sweatpants lower on his hips as he stands, deliberating.

“Just ask,” You tell him.

“You any good?”

It was a genuine question, not meant to attack your own ego. Besides, it makes you laugh.

“I’ll get your good side,” You promise him, surfacing from your room as you beckon for his phone with your hand, getting straight to work.

It only takes a few minutes to find a solid place to set up, against one of your cream colored walls, pictureless and plain, but with ample lighting from inside and out, it highlighted the wispy grays in Lucien’s untamed curls hanging over his forehead, the wrinkles creasing there as he looked down at the script and examined the text.

“Do you have them memorized?” 

Lucien nods absently, his finger trailing down the side of the paper until it was suddenly gone, snatched from his hands with a smile on your face as you pointed for him to slide into frame. You take a step back, watching the screen with a careful eye before motioning with a finger for him to move a few centimeters to the left, “There. Perfect.”

You flatten out the creased paper as you speak, “From the top?”

Lucien smiles halfheartedly—the stress washing from his face for a moment—and nods.

–

You could keep up, that much was obvious.

Lucien is used to the monotone voice on the other side of the camera during auditions, forced tones and half-cocked emotion, it was hard to act against and with, but he’s learned to push through for the sake of a role. 

It was an emotional scene, almost a requirement to have that intensity to act against and Lucien caught your eye line at one point, face buried in the script as you uttered the lines with teary eyes, letting your own emotion fill you to the brim and flow out, giving him a real and authentic reaction to act against.

He watched it back with a grin, mostly out of his own cocky admiration for himself but the secret you’ve been hoarding, a welcome surprise.

“Have you never considered acting?” Lucien asks curiously, emailing the video off to his agent.

“Cameras are daunting,” You shrug, folding and filing away some freshly washed towels as Lucien reclined on your couch, “I prefer being behind them.”

“You’re a natural,” He offers honestly, “that’s really rare.”

You shake your head in amusement as you riffled through the unfolded laundry, separating in different piles until you come across a no longer white blouse, stained a soft pink—and of course, Lucien. It was Lucien who offered to take laundry down the night prior, needing a moment away from being cooped up in the apartment, swearing he had it under control.

“I told you not to put this in the wash load with the colors! Look at this—” You held up the obviously stained blouse, crumpling up the fabric and tossing it to the couch with a frustrated huff.

“To be fair, it’s been years since I did my own laundry,” Lucien responds casually, “—don’t worry, I’ll have James buy you another.”

Your face twitches, actually twitches.

“No, no—it…it’s fine. It’s only a shirt,” You tuck a loose hair behind your ear as you heave the towels into your arm, “just—whites and colors, always separate them.”

And while living with Lucien had mellowed out some, it was still tumultuous at times.

Fighting over the bathroom was a regular occurrence, both of you guilty. But, that could be worked through, it wasn’t the end of the world. Occasionally it was the lights, a bad habit of Lucien’s to leave them lingering in his wait, lamps and fixtures, nothing was safe. Opened cabinets, items forgotten and out of place. It was all tedious and frustrating, picking and choosing your battles as they came, brushing far too much under the rub for the sake of peace.

You knew it was almost over, enjoying a quiet night to yourself while Lucien was apparently out at dinner—you weren’t sure, you didn’t really care, but you enjoyed the glimpse of what was to return to you, tucked away on the couch while half-dressed, hand stuffed into a freshly popped bowl of popcorn.

It was Friday and your neighbors never failed to come home from a rowdy night of partying with everything but sleeping on their mind, getting straight to business and your grab for the remote was immediate, turning up the volume to drown out the obnoxious moans and groans of drunk sex happening on the other side of the wall.

Lucien arrives back somewhere near the middle of the movie, the soft laughs from you pulling his attention to the couch as he clocked the nineties rom-com on the television, your cheek resting against your balled up fist, placing his wallet against the counter to signal his entrance.

“Loud enough for you?” Lucien jokes, approaching the singular piece of furniture in your living room, fingertips pressing against the arm of the couch as he takes in your appearance, shirt barely reaching beyond mid-thigh, thick socks keeping you warm as you curled in on yourself, careless that Lucien was definitely looking you make a noise in question, the words processing in a delayed manner.

You reach for the remote, pausing the movie briefly to reveal the reason; the insistent thump of wood against cheap sheetrock and moans, squealy and high-pitched, forcing a raised eyebrow from Lucien that needed no words.

“Nevermind,” He concedes,hands thrown up in defeat with a chuckle hidden behind his teeth, walking closer to examine the screen, filing through his internal rolodex of films and drawing a blank.

“Are you going to keep standing there like a total weirdo or are you going to watch the movie?” You ask with a joking tone, tucking your feet underneath you as you made room, glancing down at your phone as a notification brought the screen to life.

Lucien catches the faint tug of a smile on your face as you type away, clicking the phone into sleep mode a few moments later before continuing the movie without a word.

You’re not sure which one of you succumbs to sleep first, but it didn’t matter, finding that you both aligned together easily as you slept, covered with a blanket that Lucien must have snatched somewhere near without disturbing you—and when you wake in the middle of the night, complex quiet throughout, you can’t even find it in you to move.

–

Lucien’s length of stay was diminishing quickly and you were relieved, only a few more days and things would be back to normal, you’d be three thousand dollars richer, and you wouldn’t have to confront the fact that Lucien wasn’t entirely as bad as he seemed, temper aside.

You’re both on your way out the door on a weekday morning when you spot him, navy blue hoodie draping his body, one you favored because of its size and comfortability.

“That’s mine,” You utter as you’re fisting your keys into your hand and tucking a makeup applicator away in your bag, “that’s…mine—why is it on your body?”

Lucien looks down, perplexed. He could’ve swore…

“It’s mine, I swear,” You’re peering over his shoulder and pulling at the collar, examining the tag by his neck, or lack thereof—you always cut them out, hated the feeling against your skin.

“It’s mine,” You say with finality, “But, it’s fine. I’ve been meaning to replace it anyways. And now that you’ve worn it, definitely.”

“Ouch,” Lucien chuckles, shaking his head at your bluntness, “I guess I deserve that. I did think it was mine, though. Swear. Must’ve gotten mixed up somehow.”

 “Oh, well, just burn it now—oh, shit, before I forget,” You point your finger at his chest, stopping him in his tracks, “I’ve got a date tonight. I’ll more than likely be gone when you get back here. I’m leaving a key under the mat, you know the deal. Respect it…protect it like you give a shit if anything happens, it’s all I have.”

“Date?” Lucien teases, “Sounds—”

“We’re not doing this,” You cut him short, finger raising higher in reprimand, “don’t do that.”

Again, Lucien values his well-being, so he admits defeat. 

It was difficult for him, his eagerness to please and charm, to command the conversation and impress—but with you, it was impossible. Truly, it was mesmerizing to him.

It was several hours later when Lucien arrived at the apartment, pointedly locking the door behind him as you had reminded him several times—he wasn’t completely aloof.

His orders takeout on a whim, disguised under a fake name and the careful directions to leave at the door, having practiced the art of subtly when it came to laying low, enjoying a couple beers from a pack James had bought him as a small celebration for a week of good, decent meetings. 

Things had been looking up recently and it made Lucien unsettled in a way, but thankful nonetheless, sipping at the beer generously and relaxing well into the night, dusk turning to black skies and few twinkling star lights, drowned out by the thick smog of city pollution. It started raining eventually, a soft pattern picking up gradually and he, for natural reasoning, is slightly concerned. So, he stays up despite some lingering exhaustion, barely hitting a quarter beyond eight o’clock when the door handle rattles, soft curses on the other side of the door that send him to his feet, peering through the peephole to spot a sufficiently blurry outline of you.

And what he opens the door to is not what he’s expecting, although, he wasn’t even sure what he was expecting in the first place, but this…it wasn’t it.

You were wet, clothes dripping and rain water pooling at your feet, everything sticking to you like an uncomfortable glue, cold and shivering, your bottom lip trembling.

Without thinking, Lucien shifts into action. 

He doesn’t ask a single question, not at first. Silently pulling the items off of you as you allow him; keys and purse first, clanging against the counter before he’s pulling your coat of, blouse, even kneeling down to remove your shoes before he’s carrying the clothes to the bathroom with you in tow, turning on the shower until it was steaming up the mirrors, heat radiating through the room as you pulled at the button of your jeans weakly, fumbling with cold and feeble hands.

He holds his hands up, careful not to approach in a way that would startle you or force you into attack mode, which seemed unlikely with the disheartened look on your face and he asks quietly, “Do you need help?”

You’re quiet for a long, tense moment before you nod, trying to quell the full body shivers as he assists you in stripping down to your underwear, also soaked. He pulls the curtain back and helps you over the side of the tub with the solid weight of his hand and speaks again despite your silence, “I’ll wait in your room—do you need anything?”

It doesn’t take a genius to piece things together as Lucien settles against the edge of the bed and it angers him for some forlorn reason, a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time. When the shower cuts off, he straightens, hesitates—should he leave? 

You’d want privacy, right? Yeah. No, definitely.

He rises to his feet without another thought, his awful timing sending you straight into his chest as you swung the door open, towel snug around your body and smelling sharply of fresh, citrus body wash.

“S-sorry,” You stammer out, “you don’t—you don’t have to wait around, Lucien. Or give a shit, either. I don’t expect you to and I don’t care—”

It was unusually cold. He’s become familiar with your snark, that sharp and cunning personality, but this was different. This was a push, a defense of hard and impenetrable walls building up before his eyes and he speaks without thinking, hoping that it slips through the cracks.

“Regardless, I’ll listen,” Lucien provides—it wasn’t an overwhelming expression of fake, forced care or, god forbid, love. But, it was a raw enough response that it grabs your attention, “—if you want me to.”

—

He cranked up the heat while you dressed, flipped open his leftover takeout, and listened. You weren’t used to this and for a while, you were half-expecting him to find a way to turn the situation on himself, a sob story for a sob story. But, he doesn’t.

“This sushi…” You savor the taste, eyes falling closed.

“Good, isn’t it?” Lucien smirks, popping another into his mouth with careful precision, chopsticks in hand.

You could cry, it was such a strong and startling feeling that it caught you off-guard, “Yeah, really good.”

You clear your throat, tears shoved aside, “Have you ever ditched a date before?”

Lucien shakes his head with a subtle frown.

“Right, Lucien De Leon,” You respond jokingly, that magical emphasis around his name, “any woman would be dying for all of….this,” You gesture to him lazily with a faux disgust that couldn’t even be forced, both of you divulging into a laugh.

“Hey, you said it,” Lucien shrugs with a pointed wink that you shouldn’t find so attractive, but the natural charm he emits makes it impossible, “—but, no. Can’t say I have.”

“Even the ones who wouldn’t put out?”

“At the risk of sounding like an asshole—“ Lucien begins, but you follow the rhythm of the conversation and it isn’t long before the lightbulb strikes on and you’re nodding.

“Right, you probably don’t have an issue in that department. Stupid question, sorry.”

You pluck the last piece of sushi off the styrofoam and chew, speaking behind your hand, “I should’ve known that dude was a prick, only stared at my tits the entire date.”

Out of reflex, his eyes drag to your chest and you click the movement in an instant, “Not helping,” You warn him lightly, “I guess I was too blunt, he kept…touching me. I told him I didn’t feel comfortable going back to his place, he made some excuse to go to the bathroom and I waited for a half hour. Until the server came by with the bill—so, not only did he ditch me, I paid a hundred dollar tab and I didn’t even eat my food.”

Even in Lucien’s wild days, he couldn’t imagine doing that. Not when he was drinking more heavily, partying, hooking up on a daily basis—before his first failed marriage, it was foreign to him. 

“You could’ve called me, or James, shit—an uber.”

“Phone died,” You shrug lamely, “it doesn’t matter, anyways. And don’t get me wrong, casual sex—it’s fine, but I got too hopeful, I guess. All men are the same.”

“Come on,” Lucien jests, “that’s not fair.”

“Fine, enlighten me, then.”

“You can’t expect fairytale shit—I mean, I’m one failed marriage and plenty of missteps in my life. Do you think I’m a bad guy?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” 

Lucien sighs in defeat, scratching at his mused hair as he tosses the empty food container aside.

“I’m fucking with you,” You offer in a quieter tone—even if you weren’t friends with him, he didn’t have to put in the effort to help or listen, but he was, “I’m—just, thank you.”

“I’m in good graces now?” Lucien asks curiously, that playful mischief gracing his face with a smile.

You make a motion with your hand from your head as you grab, like pulling a thought and throwing it away, “Coffee incident? Forgotten—unless you pull some heinous shit.”

“You know, I might actually miss this,” His finger does a swirling motion, encompassing your living room, “you—eh,” a shaky hand motion that earns a jab to his thigh from your foot, “shit, ouch—that was a joke.”

“I know,” You concede with a smirk, “—I won’t, though. I want my couch back. And my bathroom.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think you’re a catch,” He tells you, “although, I do like the ones that bite, so—“

You reach forward this time, swatting playful at his chest with the back of your hand, but his fast reflexes beat you, your fingers smacking into solid rings.

He snickers softly and examines the grimace on your face as you pull back, “Pobrecita,” He coos mockingly, reaching for your hand and pressing a gentle kiss against the skin, “see what I mean?”

You ignore the heat that strikes through your body like a freshly lit match, pulling your hand away with a distinct eye roll. 

He’d be gone soon and this would all be a ridiculous memory to think back on. 

There was no room for newly evolving feelings, or worse, infatuation. 

—

The three months you spend falling back into your normal routine is monotonous, safe, but the kind of security that has you itching for change. You find yourself checking on Lucien more often than you should, regular social media checks, the occasional subtle question to James when you happened to catch him on set. It wasn’t healthy, but you couldn’t help yourself. 

He did seem more erratic, often coming across other quick clips and social media stories of him at the club during waking hours, pure reckless abandon, he was having the time of his life—you couldn’t blame him, but it was…slightly alarming.

It was a Saturday night when all hell broke loose, police sirens raining down the street as you raced to your open window, peering down at the obscured face of a man in cuffs as he was roughly shoved into a police car before there’s a pounding knock at the door, your heart nearly bursting out of your chest at the sound.

Turning on your heels and swinging the door open, you can’t help but find yourself speechless at the sight.

“Think they caught your burglar,” Lucien notes under his baseball cap, eyes catching the cascading red and blue lights outside your window, duffel bag at his feet and a regretful look on James’ face.

You tilt your head at the discovery, your brain working overtime before your eyes widen.

“Just hear him out,” He pleads with prayer like hands, phone sandwiched between two begging palms, “Lucien—go,”

Lucien seems to stutter-step in his mind, not expecting to be the one leading this proposition as he side-eyes James, “I…need a place to stay…again,” Lucien squints his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, looking almost embarrassed, “for the next six months.”

“No,” You nearly shout out incredulously, “the first time wasn’t a trial run.”

There’s a long moment of tense eye contact and uncertainty.

An underlying worry in your gut at the sight of Lucien, a little worse for wear but still mostly himself, gripping tightly at his carry-on bag in his hand, thumb rubbing nervously at the leather strap.

Goddammit.

–

He’s paying the entire six months of rent he planned on staying there while he filmed for a movie they were shooting a short ten minute drive from your complex, a quaint little studio gracious enough to let the crew film free of charge—he’d given you the whole spiel, in one ear and out the other still wondering how you’ve tangled yourself in this web again.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” You inquire, helping him file away some of his clothes in a drawer you had emptied out for him like this was normal. He makes a soft noise of acknowledgment with his lips pursed together, tired sunken eyes staring back at you, “Why not get your own apartment? A house? I mean, you’ve got the money?”

Lucien clears his throat, scratching at his neck where it jostles his chains, fingers slipping under the silk fabric of his shirt, “I, uh—feel weird…livingalone,” He rushes out, quickly turning to grab more clothes as you stand, hand placed against the top of your dresser as your brow furrows, feeling like you’d just fallen deaf.

“Come again?”

A small huff as Lucien passes a stack of expensive shirts, material that had to be ethically sourced or…some bullshit like that, he’s told you the story before in passing.

“I don’t like living alone, ‘s why I float,” He offers lamely, tossing the empty duffel into the corner of your room—you’d pick it up later, it didn’t matter, “I left all my old stuff to my ex-wife, it was easier that way.”

Often you had to remind yourself that Lucien was older, nearing his late forties while you were still managing through your late twenties, a big thirty on the horizon.

It dawns on you then that you don’t know much about Lucien at all outside of tabloids and gossip sites, the rumor mills running through Hollywood—you often find yourself reminding you of the fact he was still a person, with troubles, clearer now more than ever.

“It wasn’t always like this,” He assures you, “I’m a fuckin’ mess, I already know.”

“I think we’re beyond judgment, Lucien,” You assure him, “You saw me sobbing and nearly naked—just keep this place clean, like you give a shit about it, alright?”

Lucien nods dutifully, “Yes, ma’am.”

–

You learn quickly that his long term stay meant that little quirks were beginning to surface—always organizing your things out on the sink opposite of his own, a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed when you were rushing out the door on days he wasn’t given a call time. Or how he always made sure there was food waiting when he arrived before you—takeout or not. He wasn’t a great cook, but he could manage.

In turn, you tried to cook more often. And he loved to hover, but not with a homey, warm feeling that made you feel safe, rather like a curious dog nipping at your ankles. And more so, he would finish his own plate before looking cautiously at your own before you nod, allowing him to pick from your plate with a greediness that made you giggle under your breath.

“My ex-wife never cooked,” He had told you once, “I mean, she tried—but she was terrible. And this,” His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek as he steps at the homemade ravioli, “is there anything you can’t do?”

“Say no, apparently,” You gave him a solid once-over, a look from head to toe—he’s never offended anymore, taking the playful jest in stride, it had already been a month and it was beginning to feel like normal, again, having him there.

Your conflicting schedules meant a lot of time away from each other, which wasn’t bad. It almost helped more than you expected and while your apartment wasn’t well-fit for a roommate, Lucien made the place feel less empty.

You couldn’t say it out loud, but you were starting to understand the charm. You could see beyond the facade and the persona—a troubled man with ambition, purpose, but a mountain of struggles. The drinking wasn’t a surprise, nor his uptick in smoking. He always smoked out the window so the smell wouldn’t permeate, but the drinking started to become…an issue. 

It wasn’t that Lucien couldn’t handle himself when he drank, but he often did it to fill the dead time—so he said—when you were still at work, fighting with his own demons in his mind. He always ended up on your bed those nights, curled up in a fetal position at the wrong end and you couldn’t find it in yourself to move him, draping a blanket over him before you decided to spend the night on the couch. It was a weekly occurrence after a while, slowly growing in frequency.

He always apologizes, tells you he won’t do it again, but eventually you find yourself melding around him, sleeping in a way that keeps you comfortable and doesn’t disturb him. You don’t judge him, don’t think any lower of him—but there was concern and Lucien could see it growing with every passing conversation as the weeks dragged along. 

By the third month, the dam breaks.

You don’t sugarcoat anything for him either.

“Do you need rehab?” You ask bluntly, watching him peel the gold-flaked under eye patches from his face, shoulder leaned against the doorframe, “Or, like, therapy?”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” He defends, washing his hands under the warm water, “I can get sober if I wanna, but it helps with the stress, you know?”

“No,” You respond honestly, but softly, “I don’t. Unless this is just some big excuse for you to sleep in my bed, which if it is—”

Lucien chuckles, toweling his hands dry, “You caught me.”

“You would tell me if it was getting bad, wouldn’t you?”

It seemed like the least he could do, considering how greatly you were carrying the burden for him by allowing him to stay in the comfort of your own home, treating him like a human. You ignored the tabloids anymore, always negative and nefarious toward him, like he wasn’t allowed to make a few mistakes along the way. He had to be perfect, given his troubling start in the industry. DUIs, cheating, eventually settling down to marry but that didn’t work out great for him either—you’d done some research lately, out of pure curiosity to understand what he wasn’t always willing to share, but you preferred to hear it from him.

Lucien squeezes at your chin in a comforting manner that makes you grimace in feigned disgust, forcing a gentle laugh through your nose as he answers, “Yes, I would.”

–

When he should, he doesn’t. 

Award season was approaching and work was hectic, Lucien had wrapped on his next project and his previous one was gearing for a big release and line of promos, which meant Lucien had to be on his game.

The lamp in your living was broken, a shattered glass bottle on the floor beside it, a trail of clothes following to your room and a heat in the apartment that was sweltering in a way that had you stripping down immediately to the thinnest layer you could manage without getting to your underwear, jeans and a thin strapped top as you walked barefoot toward your room.

You weren’t sure what you were expecting or hoping for, but it isn’t this.

He’s naked, completely bare, save for the blanket draping his groin to save his modesty, out cold but skin obviously clammy, reeking of alcohol and sweat and you can’t help scrambling to the floor, unable to form any type of tangible sound. You check for a pulse, fearing that you might have just found yourself in an inescapable scandal, but it was there. That soft thump, thump, thump under your fingertips before you press the back of your hand to his skin and despite the sweat, he’s cold. He must have sweat out most of the alcohol in his system, your eyes dragging to the forgotten bottle on the ground.

You sigh, eyes falling closed as you gather your thoughts. You devise a plan, slow and methodical—first was to clean, grabbing the clothes and broken glass from the ground, leaving no trace of his mayhew before you’re returning to your room and straight for the bathroom, immediately turning on the cold water, the stream forceful as it pushed through the showerhead.

“Fuck,” You curse to yourself as you glance at Lucien who is mostly dead-weight, struggling to understand how you can get him from one point to another—with another quiet huff you approach him, shifting until you can get your arms under his armpits and heave him up, blanket falling from his waist as you yelp, eyes shooting toward the ceiling as you continue to drag his slumped body toward the tub, “okay—god, Lucien, you fucking owe me.”

It takes some maneuvering and the unbelievability that you are so incredibly close to his bare ass and dick in a way that most would fall over backwards for, regardless of the situation—it felt wrong, seeing him in such a manner and so completely helpless, but you shove the thought aside as you finally get him in the tub, the cold water waking him almost immediately.

It starts with a gasp, a sharp tug of the curtain and coarse, “Shit,” that assures you he was alive and well, coherent, even. A small smile tugs at your lips as you hear him let out a string of curses before he finally settles.

“There’s a bottle of water and some Advil on the counter—take it,” You instruct behind the curtain, “I’m going to grab dinner—try not to hurt yourself, please.”

He doesn’t acknowledge you, not that you expected it. And it doesn’t take long to grab the food either, calling it in and driving there and back in about twenty minutes, finding Lucien freshly showered and sitting on the stool near the counter, eyes telling a story of exhaustion but his insistently bouncing leg telling another.

“Chicken or steak?” You ask nonchalantly, holding the styrofoam containers in both hands.

He takes a moment to answer, unsettled by your calmness, “...steak.”

You hand it over without a question, grabbing a couple drinks before you’re digging in, standing opposite of him rather than sitting, eating in a silence that grows, thickens.

“It’s quiet,” You note the obvious before you scroll through your phone, searching for a soft tune to play through your speakers, something to fill the air, “better—how’s the food?”

“I like it,” Lucien responds with a full mouth, somehow endearing as he swallows and sips at the second water you offered him, attempting to help keep him hydrated, even if it was still annoyingly hot in your apartment, “—I…I think I broke your AC.”

“You did. I’ll put in a work order for it to get fixed,” You answer, a solution to the problem, “are you okay?”

If Lucien was being honest with himself, he can’t remember the last time anyone has asked him that—not genuinely, anyways. He falls silently, biting at his bottom lip in deep thought as his eyes squint, poking quietly at his food.

Talking was hard, you understood that. But, you hoped there was some trust built between you in the past few months, that you hadn’t laid your vulnerabilities out bare the night you came home rain soaked without the ability for him to share too. Plus, he’d broken your favorite lamp.

“It’s complicated,” Lucien diverts, but that doesn’t stop you, eyes lying in wait as you laid your utensil down to listen, “—I’ve got two kids. One, he’s eighteen…awesome, awesome kid. His name is Raynor. I didn’t meet him until a few years back, I’ve been tryin’ take make up for that. We even went on a roadtrip a couple summers back.”

Lucien fiddles with the cap on the water bottle idly, speaking further, “I, the other, my daughter, she’s a couple years old—it was a crazy night with a co-star,” You clock the information immediately, knowing who he was talking about without the confession, and he knew too—it wasn’t exactly a well kept secret in Hollywood as Delia was now married, to another co-star, raising that child, “a long story for another time, but we’re going through this nasty court battle.”

It would explain his financial situation a little, his willingness to take roles as he could, but the growing stress on his face as weeks passed, the tendency to hide or ignore the situation rather than face it—you understood, to a degree. 

“So, all the drinking? The transiency?”

“It just helps,” He shrugs—helps him forget, temporarily, before it all comes barreling back at him, “she wants to revoke shared custody—she’s got her more anyways, with my work and everything, but she wants to deem me unfit, make it—” Lucien’s throat tightens, exactly why he wanted to avoid this conversation entirely, “she wants to erase me and the moment the press gets wind—”

All hell would break loose. 

“Lucien, I don’t think it works that way,” You assure him, even if your knowledge was slim, “there’s…that's your right, she’s your child.”

“Given my history, the judge could consider it,” Lucien replies lackluster, ashamed, “look—I’m sorry to dump this shit on you, I fucked up your apartment, I can find another place to stay and I’ll pay out the rest of the rent like I promised.”

You look at him with a gentle expression, tilting your head until his eyes finally rise, “I asked,” You remind him, “and I hated that lamp anyways, so you did me a favor,” It was a lie, but given his emotional state it was acceptable, watching as he forced a weak laugh, “I’m not kicking you out either, if the media publishes anything about it, you hunker down here. I can deal with a few paps, you know? We do work in the same industry, after all. I may not understand the full scope but I do understand, Lucien.”

He returns a look with sad, red-rimmed eyes as you reach to clean up your shared dinner, before approaching him with a careful few steps, a hand gliding over his bicep and your fingers rubbing at the small dip in the back of neck, your first real initiation of genuine touch. He was a touchy person himself and seemed at ease by the feeling, your lips coming to press a soft kiss against his cheek. Kind, friendly, you pat at his back.

Something changes between that touch and the look he gives you as he turns, eyes flicking toward your lips out of desire, silently he pushes logic aside and leans forward, pulling your chin into his hand like he has before, a familiar touch followed by a foreign one, plush lips against your own that has you swimming in a mix of emotions, eyes falling shut briefly before you realize what was happening, lips parting slightly as the tip of his tongue touches your own before you’re ripping away, eyes wide.

“Oh my god,” You utter out, wishing the words had stayed inside of your head, “I, uh–I’m—”

You stutter relentlessly before you’re scrambling toward your room, door falling shut with a soft click as you sink into your sheets, heart racing uncontrollably and your hands covering your face, unable to face what you had just escaped from as a knock comes a few minutes later on your bedroom door.

You couldn’t face him. You couldn’t.

Eventually, he leaves. Slow footsteps that eventually lead toward another door that closes too, unsure of where he was wandering off to, but you couldn’t think about that, not with the conflicting, battling emotions in your head and chest, a startling yearning coming from just a simple touch.

He was everything you despised—somehow finding level ground, adoring him, caring about him, it was never supposed to go this far. He started as an inconvenience, a disruption to your life…and now, you weren’t sure you could imagine it without him there, in some form.

It takes a couple hours, already deep into your slumber, but the dip of weight in your bed startles you for a moment before the movements stop, the strong press of a back against yours, and an unspoken security that pulls you both under quickly.

He’d gone out drinking again, but at this point, you couldn’t blame him.

–

He awakes to a sweet smell, distinct and fresh. And air, cool air. It can’t be dawn, the sun is too far in the sky to be early morning. Lucien rises with a heavy grogginess, rubbing at his eyes as he finds his footing and walks toward the living room of your apartment, finding your back turned to him as you fiddled with the buttons on your AC as you bid someone goodbye, a man carrying a toolbox descending toward the hallway.

He gears up for an apology, the words balancing on the tip of his tongue.

Suddenly, you’re in front of him, two filled mugs in hand, coffee just the way he liked.

 And Lucien doesn’t know when or why the feeling overtakes him, but he kisses you again. It isn’t a simple peck. It was full, all-consuming, feet lifting off the ground type of kiss.

No, literally—you rise to your tiptoes as the cups jostle in your grip as two large, warm hands curl around your back and his lips melt against your own, earning a starling gasp that slips through slightly parted lips, followed by his name after a moment too long.

“Coffee, coffee,” You mumbled quickly, “hot—burning, my toes,” Lucien pulled away quickly at the words, watching as the tan liquid pooled at your feet before he rushed to clean up the mess.

You watch with an amused expression before you finally hand the cup of coffee over, “Good morning to you too, I guess,” You smirk, biting down on your cheek to stifle the laugh that was fighting it’s way out, “please don’t tell me you’re still drunk.”

“I need to apologize,” Lucien tells you, “...again—I’m—I’m sorry for kissing you—again, like that, assuming that was something you wanted. I got pulled into the moment—”

You’ve had all night and morning to think it over, mulling over the emotions and feelings, still not quite sure, but you couldn’t help the swirling feeling of nervousness that had grown more frequent in Lucien’s presence, his looks, his flirtatious nature and touches. You were under his spell completely.

And if you didn’t want to kiss him, you would have stopped him.

Besides, you didn’t want to be the bearer of more bad news after his terrible night, having been let go from your job position that morning, no notice—you were still reeling, but didn’t want to burden Lucien with the news.

You needed something else to occupy your mind.

“Drink,” You instruct, taking a seat on the couch as you sip at your coffee in silence, watching as Lucien mirrored your actions and sat at the opposite end, legs out-stretched and his chest on display, tanned skin with neatly trimmed chest hair, soft tummy leading into the charcoaled, stretchy lounge pants leaving little to imagination as he fidgeted in his seat.

“Where’d you go last night?”

Lucien’s face immediately flushes with guilt, “The—a bar. I didn’t drink. I swear, I—”

He makes a small noise of frustration and closes his eyes, “I did something stupid, I needed a distraction, alright? I shouldn’t have kissed you, that’s not what you wanted, I know that.”

With a silent reservation, you press the coffee cup into the table in front of you before slowly make your way toward him on your knees before you pluck the half-empty mug from his grip and return it to a similar spot, feeling a surge of bravery as you climb onto his lap—there’s some underlying stupidity there, you think. But, fuck it.

“You don’t know what I want,” You assure him, fingers dragging along the top of his head before you’re tugging at the stands to tilt his head back, kissing him soundly, sweet dark roast on your shared breaths as you lick into his mouth, the opposite hand pressed flat against his bare chest. It takes a while, but eventually his brain catches up, along with his movements, and his hands curl around your bare thighs, fingertips grazing the silk shorts you wore to bed the night prior, like butter against your soft skin as his fingers climb and dig, pressing into your skin as you continue to discover every inch of him he had to offer—mouth, tongue, neck, chest.

It was a dormant hunger that had awoken after careful thought and pure primal need, tired of waiting things out for perfection when you had something tangible in front of you.

He’s mumbling your name softly as you lean into him, the bottom of your lip dragging against the tip of his nose as he pulls you away, strong hands encompassing your face as he looks at you, searching your glazed over eyes, “What are you doing?” He asks, apparent concern.

“Distracting you,” You tell him, immediately diving back in to kiss him, nipping at his chin playfully, a shaking sigh falling from his lips, “are you distracted?”

He chuckles weakly, “What happened to me being a cocky, egotistical, little dicked man?”

“I can go back to hating you if you want,” You respond, nipping at his ear before you pull back to look at him, so close you can feel his breath against your lips, “If you’re into that sorta thing.”

He could see in your eyes that you needed this too, a way to shut your brain off for a while, months of failed dates you’ve told him all about, in detail, he can’t help but chuckle at your eagerness, stifling a groan as you core grinds against him, cock stiffening with the movement.

“Maybe,” He’s undecided, “we’ll see how this goes.”

You smile wide, feeling a surge of pride as he returns the kiss more fully, a hand twisting around the back of your neck as he kisses you fully, all wet and uncoordinated but it makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“Let me taste you,” He begs, clawing at your top in an attempt to get his hands on your skin, pushing up the fabric as you follow his movements, top off, stripping your shorts down along with your underwear, an eager Lucien gripping at your hips to maneuver you down into the cushion as he hastily shoves the table away with his feet to make room for him on the floor, no reprieve as he hooks your legs over his shoulder and splits his tongue through your folds, licking up the center.

A man of his word, he tastes. Noisily he licks and prods, tongue dipping inside of along with wandering fingers, sucking gently at your clit until you’re yanking at his hair, hand curling over the back of his scalp, fingernails digging into the top of his back, moans spilling from your lips like a flowing river, the rapids rushing through, walls clenching around nothing but cool air as Lucien parts from you, admires. 

He’s got two hands on your thighs to keep you open, “Wider,” He coaxes, your breath quickening as he squeezes at your thighs, “right there, don’t move.”

He shoves his pants down his hips, the heel of his palm rubbing down his shaft as he wraps his fingers around his cock, jerking himself off at the sight of you, glistening and eager, your fingers digging into the cushion fabric—you’ve seen him before, naked, in starkly different context. 

But, he had nothing to be ashamed of, your eyes counting the faint splattering of freckles on his chest as his hand glides over his cock, tugs, thumb sliding over the tip to spread the precum down his shaft and you don’t hear him calling your name until his hand touches your skin, gliding over your knee as he taps, coming to with a weak, “Huh?”

Lucien laughs under his breath before he’s beckoning you closer, pushing up with your palms as he cups his hand under your chin and asks—no, demands, “Spit,” He tells you, following his order without missing a beat, the saliva dripping into his hands as you push it past your lips and he moves closer, knees settled on the plush rug in your living room, guiding you until your ass was nearly hanging off the couch and using your saliva to aid the tug of his cock.

“No condom,” You quickly interject, slightly out of breath. His mouth opens like he wants to respond but you quickly shush him, “we can avoid the spiel, I’m on the pill.”

Lucien shrugs with a cocked smile, “Just checking. You alright?”

You nod eagerly, dying for a reason to shut your mind off.

It was the perfect angle, his hips just level enough with your hips that he slid in with ease, adding his own string of spit into the mix as rubbed it down your cunt and pushed his cock inside—deeper, deeper, the head of his cock sliding against your folds teasingly as he rocks his hips until he’s fully flush inside of you.

Your anxious hands are taken hold by him, curling around his wrists instinctively before they’re being shoved over your head and against the back of the couch, his towering frame leaning over you as his hips piston you at a bruising pace, deep enough that it aches. It’s been long, so long and you feel pathetic for already wanting it so bad, core pulsating with an insatiable need.

His breath is hot, wet against your skin as his teeth graze against your breast, sucking the skin between his teeth as you gasp, “Louder,” Lucien coaxes, “let ‘em hear you. Think they deserve it after all they’ve put us through.”

You laugh at that, full-body and airy, eyes falling shut as Lucien plants a foot against the floor, changing up the angle to an intense degree, his cock slipping out briefly as he adjusts, catching glimpse of the string of shiny slick that connects you both before the thick head of his cock pushes back in, a soft squelch of admittance, a tell-tale sign of your obvious enjoyment.

If he knew this would shut you up, he would’ve tried seducing you months ago—though, he had a feeling the attempts would be futile, he was floating on his own cloud of disbelief that after all his wrong-doings, his missteps, it hadn’t pushed you away.

“Show me—huh, show me what you like,” Lucien pleads through baited breath, hair sticking to his forehead from the sheen of sweat, his own hands leaving yours with the silent promise that you wouldn’t move them, finding purchase underneath your thighs and pushing them up toward your chest, your fingers gripping around the back of the couch in desperation, “touch—touch yourself, show me.”

The drag of your hand is slow, but eventually your fingers hover over your cunt, pressing against your sensitive clit as you circle, slow and intentional movement that rips a loud moan from your chest matched with his pointed thrusts, feeling his stamina weaning as he watches, hips stuttering.

“You’re a fucking dream,” Lucien admires, “makin’ a damn mess, too. You hear that?”

He slows down on purpose, partially for his own benefit but he’s proving his point, that sticky squelch of arousal, his faint grunts mixed with your quickly rising moans.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” He asks curiously, eyes locked on your pussy, watching his cock split you open, gripping him and pulling him back in eagerly with every thrust, “Look at me—answer me, baby.”

There’s something so distinct in the way he says it, laced with an addictive drug.

Your eyes peel open, bleary behind near tears and you shake your head.

“Do you wish it did?” You counter, earning a subtle head shake from Lucien as he pulls out.

A moan of disappointment leaves your mouth before he’s quickly jostling your around, chest against the couch, his hand spreading wide over your back as he bends you over, fisting his cock as he feeds it back into your greedy cunt, the swollen head making you gasp as it pushes through your over-sensitive folds.

He uses the leverage as his hand climbs, gripping at your shoulder to pull you up, bracketing your body into the couch with a knee at your side, pressing you tight into his chest, his hand sliding around to your chin and turning your face to his, lips parting as he fucks you with a newfound ferocity, eyes rolling back so deep you aren’t expecting the fingers that find your clit, circling the senstive nerves until you’re tipping over the edge, soft encouraging words pulling you through your orgasm like a gentle wave, his fingers slowing down as you resurface.

He comes soon after, his hips stuttering out of pace again as you lean forward, feeling him pull out at the last possible moment before he’s painting thick strips of come against your lower back, the fingers of his left hand digging into your skin as he grabs you tight, the tip of his cock sliding against your ass.

You collapse with a content laugh, oblivious to Lucien searching frantically for something to clean you up before settling on one of the kitchen towels, your body slumped lazily against the couch and sighing when you feel his warm touch, the words slipping out on their own accord, “I got fired.”

“What?”

He tosses the dirty towel aside and passes over your clothes, pulling his own lounge pants back up his hips, sans underwear—and it makes you curious how often he does that normally, comfortable as he takes a seat, legs spread wide as he settles into the cushion.

“They called this morning,” You explain easily, pulling your top over your head and maneuvering your panties and shorts back on, “wouldn’t give me a reason, but it doesn’t matter.”

Lucien’s brow furrows in thought, rubbing his thumb against his fingertips out of habit.

“Is this one of those situations where you’re gonna ask if I’ll sign an NDA?” You half-joke.

He shakes his head almost immediately. He doesn’t seem to find it amusing, almost slightly concerned—or wounded?

“Come work for me,” He insists, “I’ve been needing an assistant.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” You ask him, staring at his flush chest and mused hair, evidence of rigorous sex all over his face, it was almost enough to have you confessing some unspoken feelings, but you weren’t that easily broken down.

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Are you just trying to find a reason to stick around longer?” You tease him, a smile peeking out behind your tired expression, “Because it won’t work.”

“No—I’m serious about getting my shit together,” Lucien promises, “I might need a little help…but I want to.”

“Can I think about it?” 

Lucien nods, hands dropping to his lap as he fiddles with a ring on his finger, eventually trailing toward the chains around his neck before his head is popping up, a quizzical look on his face.

“Wait—was that because you were having a bad morning?”

The sex, he means.

A smile breaks out on your face, “Nothing an orgasm won’t fix.”

He can sense it isn’t the full truth, but he doesn’t pry.

“Damn straight,” He chuckles, both of you falling into a comfortable silence.

–

Your answer doesn’t come for a solid week, thinking over the pros and cons. It was complicated, indeed bound to be messy if you allowed it, but Lucien was promising to double your pay, no undermining, no hovering—it seemed too good to be true.

But, you were taking the risk.

Lucien was still awaiting the imminent release of the court documents, the storm of press, but when you were secured in the safety of your apartment, hidden under the blankets as Lucien clung to you, head buried in your chest and his cock still buried inside of you, a slow and lazy day was what he needed, but he also craved you—and he was addicting, impossible to deny.

“We can’t keep doing this when I start working for you,” You remind him.

“Who says we can’t?” Lucien asks curiously, adjusting his hips as he slides deep inside of your cunt, peering up at you with soft eyes, “We keep it casual, if we decide we wanna stop. We stop. It won’t affect your job. I’m not that much of a dick, baby.”

“Well, for starters, you can’t call me baby at work.”

Lucien nods dutifully, listening to you divulge into a long lists of hardset rules, eventually pulling your focus back to him, his hips moving at a slow but gradual pace until you can’t focus any longer, giggling loudly as he buries his face into your neck, a sufficient end to the conversation.

The rest could be figured out later.

-

dividers: @/saradika-graphics

[absurdthirst]

Halloween Cowboy {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Idiots in love, crushing, putting your foot in your mouth, embarrassment, flirtation, Younger Joel, drinking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: Tommy and his girlfriend, your best friend, manage to get you and your sexy neighbor Joel at the same Halloween party.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Cmon man. You gotta come. Lindsey wants to meet you and I can’t keep makin’ up excuses for my big brother not wanting to meet my girl.” Tommy whines while he stands over Joel who is trying to read the plans for the bathroom redo.

“Tommy. I’m tryin’ - Jesus. Is it really that damn important?” He asks his brother after taking his glasses off of his nose.

“Yeah. Sarah is going to sleep over at her friend Tori’s house, right? You’ll be sitting on your own with the curtains closed to ward off trick or treaters while watching Dawn of the Dead for the hundredth time…you ain’t busy.” Tommy calls Joel out who signs and sets his glasses down on the table.

“Fine. Fine. If it’s that damn important I’ll go but, shit. I don’t have a costume.” He confesses and Tommy smirks, “that’s easy. You’re already wearing it.” He eyes the construction belt and hard hat and Joel scoffs but takes a second, “I got a cowboy hat. And boots.” He decides and Tommy snorts, “rodeo Joel is making an appearance. Haven’t seen that since high school when you were trying to impress Katie.” Joel huffs, trying to not snap at his brother at mentioning his ex wife whose parents owned a ranch.

“Sorry.” Tommy murmurs and Joel shrugs, “I’ll be there.” He promises, picking up his glasses again and Tommy grins, not mentioning the best part until he’s about to walk away. “Oh and your pretty neighbor will be there. Lindsey invited her.”

****

“Why do I have to go again?” You whine to Lindsey even as you are mixing together the cream cheese with the salsa to make roll ups. It’s one of your best appetizers to throw together quickly and are always a hit. She snorts and rolls her eyes at you. “You need to get out and socialize. You need to have some fun since you broke up with dickhead.” She had never hidden the fact that she thought your ex wasn’t good enough for you. Only now would you admit that she’s right, but you still huff at her. “What am I supposed to do? Pick up someone from your party and take them home?”

“Or you could use my guest room?” She waggles her eyebrows, “and I do believe the man you’ll be riding in there will be called Joel.” She smirks and you nearly choke, “no. No. I don’t - he doesn’t -” Lindsey giggles, “Tommy said the man watches your every damn move from his porch. Watches your ass when you walk past. Trust me, honey. The man wants you. He’s just got issues from his ex leaving.” She explains, knowing Tommy has briefly told her about what happened with Katie. “You don’t need to be his therapist to get some.” She says and nudges you.

****

Joel huffs as he looks at himself in the mirror. The checkered shirt is buttoned up unlike its usual openness when he has a t-shirt underneath. The large belt buckle his dad got him as a present was dug out from the back of his underwear drawer, and the boots are comfortable, worn in thankfully from regular use. The hat is on the side and he grabs it, putting it on his head to see how it looks. He looks like teenage Joel and that scares him. How eager he was to impress a girl. Too eager in fact that she left the first moment she could, leaving him with a two month old when he was twenty years old. “Shit.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw, knowing he will see you. He knows he’s jaded, he’s a single dad with issues and he knows you’d never want him. He’s too complicated. With a huff, he grabs the lasso he got from Tommy as a joke a few years ago and leaves his house to go to the party.

“I think real cuffs would have been better.” You huff to yourself, hating how the ties on these Wonder Woman wrist cuffs keep coming loose. The party hasn’t even started yet and you want to just go home. Not that Lindsey would let you. “Tie this for me.” You demand, holding your wrist out. “If I’m going to be Wonder Woman, I need to be a put together, sexy version of her.”

Joel isn't early. He doesn't like to be early to parties since he can't disappear into a crowd and leave early. He sighs after he parks his truck down the street, his boots clicking as he walks up the driveway until he is opening the door. The party is already underway and he squeezes past people drinking and making out and talking to try and find Tommy.

“Coming through, coming through!” You yank the platter of appetizers higher, needing to get over to the table and refill them although people won’t seem to get out of your way. The party is bigger than what Lindsey had told you it would be and she’s already glued to Tommy’s side, leaving you to kind of run things. Someone comes up to your right, just out of your vision as  you veer off to avoid a couple who are groping each other. “Shit!” You hiss, bumping into someone and having to spin around to keep the tray from hitting the ground and ruining the snacks. 

“Woah. Shit.” Joel hisses and barely catches the tray as you spin around and grab the other side. His eyes widen when he sees you, dressed like Wonder Woman with eyes wide and beautiful. “Hey.” He murmurs, keeping his grip on the tray and you offer him a gorgeous smile, “hey neighbor.” Someone knocks into him and he steadies the tray. “Let me help. Tell me where you want this and I’ll make sure no one knocks this over.” He promises, keeping his grip tight.

“Hey.” You smile breathlessly, a little shocked and release the tray to him because of that. “Um, yeah, uh, right over there.” You point to the table in the corner and try to figure out if you need to hide in embarrassment or get the man a drink for helping you out. He looks fucking delicious and Lindsey’s comments about riding him are fucking perfect considering Joel Miller is out here dressed up like a fucking cowboy. Your panties are going to be ruined tonight, thinking about him. 

Joel wrestles with the crowd to set the tray down and he turns to see you’ve followed him. “Who the hell did Tommy and Lindsey invite? The whole damn town?” He almost has to shout to compete with the chatter and the music. “Seems like it. I only made enough food for a small gathering.” You confess and Joel turns to look at the tray, “you did all that?” He asks and you nod, biting your lip. “Goddamn. You’re like Martha Stewart. But hot.” He adds until he flusters and reaches up to adjust his hat. “Uh, I mean, you look good. As Wonder Woman. I had this massive crush on Linda Carter when I was a kid and uh, yeah. You look good.” He repeats, silently cursing himself for being so lame as Sarah would say.

You want to laugh at the way Joel looks ready to punch himself in the face for being stupid, but you like seeing him like this. “Thanks.” You reach out and touch his arm. “You look really hot too. You’re going to be beating them off with a stick dressed like this, Miller.” You predict, knowing you would be the first in line if you had half a chance at him. “We’ll be dreaming of cowboy lullabies tonight.” 

Joel blushes, grateful for the cowboy hat to hide it, and he gets a sudden boost of confidence. “Yeah? You think I’d have a chance with someone at the party? Even though I got more baggage than Bush Airport?” He jokes and you scoff, “everyone has baggage.” He nods, staring at you for a moment and he opens his mouth to ask if you want to find somewhere quieter to talk but a hand slaps his shoulder and he turns to see his brother. “You made it! And dressed up!” Tommy exclaims, clearly a little drunk and his arm wrapped around a beautiful woman. “This is Lindsey. Baby, this is the mysterious big brother I’ve been telling you about.” Lindsey grins and holds her hand out, “it’s great to finally meet you, Joel. Tommy can’t shut up about you.” She teases before she says your name, “and she’s always talking about her sexy neighbor. You’re the talk of the town.” Lindsey teases and Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he looks towards you.

“Lindsey.” You groan your friend’s name, face heating up and you want the earth to open and swallow you whole. “I think you might need to drink some water.” You huff, snatching her cup out of her hand and quickly drinking it down yourself. Hoping that Joel doesn’t think that you are some kind of creepy stalker or some shit. 

Lindsey’s words make his stomach twist and Tommy smirks at him, knowing about his crush on his neighbor, and he squeezes Lindsey’s hand until she lets go and turns to look at Tommy. “Come on baby. Let’s get you another drink. Enjoy the party. See you in a bit. Mingle.” Tommy urges his older brother who has the habit of hiding in the corner. “Sure.” Joel nods and watches Tommy take Lindsey to the kitchen. “I need a drink.” Joel mutters to himself before he looks at you, “you know where the booze is?”

“Yeah,” Despite being embarrassed, you won’t let him go without a drink. “It’s out here.” You point to the patio door. “We’ve got a small pony keg if you want beer and then there’s tequila.” You huff out a laugh. “That’s what I plan on drinking.” You joke as you open the door. “Listen- uh, about what she said? I just- I don’t want you to think that I’m watching you all the time or something.” 

Joel looks at you as he follows you to the drinks table. He was shocked to hear you watch him and you being flustered makes his heart thump. “I’m watching you.” He confesses, “not in a creepy way but - but yeah. I like watching you.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly burning up in the flannel shirt.

You freeze for a second as you reach for a cup, relieved and slightly surprised to find out that Tommy and Lindsey were right. Now that you both have admitted embarrassing things, you laugh and shake your head. “I think we are way too sober right now.” You tease and waggle a cup at him. “What’ll you have before we discuss further?”

“Anything with alcohol.” He teases and picks up his own cup, filling it with cheap whiskey and topping it off with some Coke. “Happy Halloween.” He grins and hits your cup with his. “Happy Halloween, neighbor.” You smirk and he takes a sip of his drink, sighing at the sting of the whiskey.

You ask where Sarah is and listen while Joel explains about the sleepover, but you are really admiring the way he fills out that flannel shirt. It’s cut perfectly and makes his broad frame look even broader. You know the man is strong because you’ve seen the tools and materials he has to carry. “So why a cowboy and not a sexy construction worker?” You ask, grinning as the burn of the alcohol starts to fade and the heat runs through your veins.

“That seemed too obvious. Isn’t halloween about pretending to be something you’re not? Tonight, I’m not a single father construction worker. Tonight, I’m a cowboy looking for a hero.” He smirks as he flexes his fingers around the red solo cup.

It takes you a second to realize he’s referring to your wonder woman costume and you grin. “Not all heroes wear capes, Miller.” You remind him playfully and toss back the rest of your drink so you can pour both of you another. “I think you also underestimate how sexy single father construction workers are.” You huff. “But I like the idea of taking a cowboy for a ride.” 

Joel can’t believe how smooth he is being when usually he’s fumbling over his words with you. Maybe the costume has helped him regain some confidence after years of focusing on Sarah and not his love life. “Save a horse, ride a construction worker.” He winks and you giggle, making his heart clench. His eyes drag down your body when you turn and bend over to grab another bottle of tequila from under the drinks table and his cock twitches in his jeans.

You open the new bottle and pour you both a large drink. You don’t want to hang out by the booze all night, although it’s been pretty quiet right now. Soon enough there will be people charging out here to refill their own cups. “So are you ready to let your hair down?” You ask. 

Joel snorts, “I don’t think I’ve ever done that. Well, not since Sarah was born.” He confesses, glancing around at the sofa and he jerks his chin, “you wanna sit down?” He asks, his back starting to ache from the long work day and he’s anxious to get closer to you.

“Sure.” You point to the back yard. “Want to sit out there, or go upstairs?” You ask. “We can’t sit down in the living room with all those bodies in there.” It’s a subtle way to get him upstairs if you think that this could actually go somewhere, which it is looking like it might. 

“Let’s go upstairs. I’m too fucking old for this music.” He confesses with a chuckle and you nod, taking his hand to escort him upstairs. You’ve been to Tommy’s house a few times with Lindsey to get ready for nights out. Joel hopes his hand isn’t sweaty in yours and he lets you guide him away from the crowd to the quiet guest room. The bass from the music thumps below his feet as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“You know you are a good dad, right?” You ask, wondering if he knows just how sexy him being a very involved dad is to you. “You care about Sarah, you listen to her.” You smirk. “Even if you don’t always know what you are doing.” 

He snorts, looking down at the drink in his hand, “I definitely don’t always know what I’m doing. I could handle Barbie dolls and hair bobbles but periods? Boys? It’s a little out of my league.” He admits, turning to look at you as you sit down beside him. You’re so beautiful, so understanding. You deserve way better than someone like him yet here you are. “Thanks for saying that though. She likes you. Loves your style and watching those stupid MTV shows with you.”

“She’s a good kid. Because of you.” You smile softly. “And you didn’t even use her to get laid.” You tease. “Do you know that women love a good dad? Our panties drop quick for a man who loves his children.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, “really?” He asks and you nod, giggling in a way that makes his cock twitch, already half hard in his jeans. You smile and he can’t help but lean in closer to you. “You gonna drop your panties for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice dropping lower for you.

“Fuck, that sounded so hot.” You whimper, biting your lip as your eyes slide down to his. You want to kiss him, but you aren’t brave enough yet. “I can’t.” You admit. “I’m not wearing any tonight.” You take his cup and yours and set it down on the nightstand as you talk. 

“Shit.” Joel hisses, his eyes widening slightly and he can’t stop himself even if he tried. He surges forward to press his lips to yours. His hat pushed back on his head as he cups your cheek and he pulls back after a second when you don’t respond and he frowns, wondering if he misread this.

You are frozen. Shocked that Joel, your sexy neighbor, is kissing you. When he pulls back, you see him frown, reaching out and cupping his face so you can lean in to kiss him yourself.

He quickly recovers and melts into the kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and he gains confidence, sliding his tongue along your lower lip, pushing into your mouth when you grant him access.

Your breath catches and you groan into his mouth. Still in disbelief that Joel is kissing you. Hes a good kisser. His tongue slides along your, tangles with it and encourages you to kiss him back. Your stomach twists in knots and you lean into the kiss more, malting into him.

He loves the way you kiss him back just as eagerly and he slides his hand along your thigh, groaning at the feel of your skin under his palm. You’re so soft and he loves it. He’s imagined it more times than he’d care to admit.

You hadn’t worn any tights with your outfit. Not wanting to feel trapped or have another layer to take off another layer when you’ve been drinking. His hands on your skin feels amazing and you shift, moving to straddle him and you giggle into his mouth.

He groans when you straddle him, his hands immediately finding your ass to squeeze the flesh. So many times he’s imagined your ass when you’ve been outside in your shorts or leggings and now he gets to touch you. “Fuck.” He pants into your mouth, his cock hardening underneath you.

“We will get to that.” You promise, pulling away to press your lips to his jaw. Always wanting to kiss his neck for forever. It’s so kissable. “Imagined it so many times.”

Joel groans, tilting his head, and he slides his hand up to squeeze your breast. “Me too. So many damn times. Imagined you under me, over me. Being inside you. Jerked off enough damn times.” He reveals as you grind down onto him.

You moan softly, imagining him with his cock in his hand, panting your name. “I want to see that sometime.” You admit breathlessly. “Watch you jerk off.”

"Fuck. One day." He promises, grabbing your ass to lift you so he can spin and lay you down on the bed. "Look goddamn sexy in your costume." He groans, caressing your calf. "Tell me what you want, baby." He demands, reaching for the zipper of your boot.

“Want to ride you.” You decide. “Keep your cowboy hat and boots on.” You smirk and wink. “Want to see if you live up to the expectations I’ve built up seeing you wear that costume.”

He smirks, “I hope I can. It’s been a while.” He confesses as he reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest to your hungry gaze.

You reach up and caress his chest. “That doesn’t matter.” You promise. “I just want to feel you inside me.” He peels your boots off and reaches for your bottom. “I’m going to strip you down.” He promises and you nod. “Do it.”

He peels the costume from your body, his cock aching in his jeans at each inch that’s exposed to his hungry gaze, and he has to reach down to undo the buckle, opening his pants to allow himself some relief from the hard press of the zipper. “Shit. You’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, caressing your stomach until he’s reaching for the hem of the top, dragging it from your body to expose your tits. “Goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs when he tosses the top aside and dives down to take your nipple into his mouth as he kneels on the bed.

Your cry is loud but you know that no one in the party can hear you. The music is still thumping and you can hear the chattering. Not that you care, all you care about is him. His mouth feels so good on your nipple it hurts, making you whine when he flicks his tongue over it after biting down. “Joel.” You pant, tangling your fingers into his hair.

He loves hearing your moan and he bites down on the bud, lapping at it with his tongue, before he switches to the other one. His thumb and forefinger pinching your hardened nipple that’s slick with his spit.

You’ve never had someone spend so much time on your tits. Not without being inside you. You enjoy the attention, every pull of his mouth and pinch of your nipple makes your cunt throb around nothing and you are positively dripping.

His free hand slides up your inner thigh, caressing the skin there and he slides his touch higher so he can slide his fingers through your folds. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He murmurs against your breast.

“So turned on.” You confess. You moan his name again when he continues to slowly stroke through your folds, fingers brushing against your clit. “Fuck baby.”

He groans, “me too. So fucking hard right now.” He confesses as he presses his fingers against your clit, wanting to hear you moan for him again.

You groan, reaching down and cupping him through his jeans. “Fuck.” You gasp, knowing that he will stretch you out when you feel how thick he is. “So hard.”

“Shit.” He hisses when you squeeze him and he slides his hand lower so he can push two thick digits into your weeping cunt, wanting to hear you gasp again. “Take me out.” He pleads, kissing your jaw, “need to feel your hand around him.”

You fumble with his zipper blindly, eager to feel the heft in your hand, to feel how soft and hard he is. Joel pulls his hips back to give you more room and you both groan in unison when he comes free from his underwear and lands into your palm.

He groans when you finally grip him in your soft palm, loving the way you squeeze him, and he’s so hard. He’s aching for you and his fingers work in and out of you, desperate to hear you cry out his name.

Your eyes slide closed, twisting your wrist to pump his cock as much as you can while his fingers destroy you. They are just as thick and wonderful as you imagined. Rough, his hands are calloused and imperfect from the manual labor of his job, scrubbing perfectly inside your walls to make you choke out his name every time he curls them deep.

Your choked version of his name has him groaning yours as you try to pump his cock in your soft hand. He twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to your clit to hear the sweet cry of your orgasm. He desperately wants it. His lips find yours again and he slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to devour you.

Your hips roll up, eager to have him push his fingers deep every time he pulls them back. You feel that lovely tension curling in your stomach and you want more, crave it. He is just as overwhelming as you had imagined. Completely taking control and showing a confidence that is undeniably sexy.

Your walls flutter and clamp down on his fingers, making him grin against your chin, and he desperately wants you to fall apart for him. “Cum for me, baby.” He murmurs, nipping your jaw as he curls his fingers and presses his thumb against your clit.

It takes a few more pumps of his fingers before you are flying. Your walls lock down around his fingers and soak him with a wave of hot liquid juice that just continues to come in wave after wave while he continues to curl his fingers deep. Crying out his name loudly, nearly a sob and you shake under him.

“Holy fuck.” He groans when you grip his fingers in your walls and he loves how hot and wet you get. He can’t wait to feel that around his cock. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he works you through it.

You whimper, knowing that he could call you a good girl for the rest of your life and it would still make your stomach curl in pleasure. Your legs feel like jello when he finally pulls his fingers free and kisses your lips. “Fuck, Miller.” You pant. “Get on your back.”

He grunts as he shifts to lay against the pillows, pupils blown wide as he watches you while you shift to your wobbly knees. "So fucking gorgeous." He murmurs, his gaze dropping to your tits and he can't help reaching down to squeeze his hard cock.

You bite your lip when your thighs are straddling him, immediately moving and grinding down on his cock as soon as he moves his hand. Grinning when he moans your name and swivel your hips again. “Put your hat back on, cowboy.” You tease, leaning down and kissing him passionately.

He fumbles blindly to grab his hat from the nightstand and he puts it on while his tongue tangles with yours while you grind down onto him. “Shit. Co-condom?” He rasps, knowing it’s been forever and a day since he’s had sex but he wants you to be comfortable.

“Fuck.” You don’t have one, but you think you will cry if you have to stop right now. “I don’t- I’m clean.” You mumble against his lips, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean and I - I trust you.” He promises, knowing he shouldn’t take the chance after Katie left him high and dry but he’s aching and he knows you wouldn’t lie to him. “Take what you want, baby.” He demands, his hands finding your ass to squeeze before he playfully slaps your cheeks, “ride a cowboy.”

You moan, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock as you lift up to move him into position. “Gonna ride you ‘til you pass out.” You tease, winking at him right before you start to impale yourself on his length with a loud moan.

When you start to sink down onto his cock, he hisses and his fingers dig into your ass, exhaling through his nose to control himself as he watches your facial expressions while he stretches you out. “Feel good?” He smirks, voice heavy with lust as he slides one hand up to squeeze your breast.

“Yes, fuck.” Your eyes close and you clench down around him. “You’re so much thicker than my ex.” You admit breathlessly, not even thinking that he might not want to be reminded that you had just broken up with someone.

He chuckles, pinching your nipple. "Good, gonna make sure you don't remember his fucking name after tonight." He promises and kisses along your jaw, "want you to scream my name only."

“What ex?” You joke, groaning when he nibbles on your ear. “Fuck, Joel.” You sit up, bracing your hands on his chest and look down on him. He looks sexy under you. “You have a great cock.” You praise, starting to bounce on it. “I’m going cum all over it.”

Your words make him twitch inside you and he slaps your tit, wanting you to squeal. You start to rock on top of him and the sight is gorgeous but he reaches for the hat on his head. He takes it off and places it on your head. “Sexy as fuck.” He murmurs, watching you as your tits move.

You giggle as you ride him, leaning over to press against his chest and bounce harder. He feels incredible inside you, his cock punching deep enough to feel like he’s in your throat and you start to rock harder on him. “Fuck, fuck Joel!”

“That’s it, baby. Shit. Take what you want. God, you look so gorgeous ridin’ my cock.” He coos as his dark eyes trail down to watch where his cock disappears inside of you.

He doesn’t have the exaggerated drawl of a cowboy, but that gravely, raspy pitch to his voice makes your cunt clench around him as he praises you. Loving how he seems to be obsessed with you moving on top of him. Those hands caress you from your tits to your thighs.

Your moans make him twitch inside you and he digs his heels into the mattress, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into you with a groan. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his hands sliding up to pinch your nipples and twist them slightly.

“Yessssss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and circling your hips. “Your fucking cock is so deep inside me.” You moan. “You’re in my throat. How the fuck did no one want to ride this cock every night?”

Joel doesn’t mention his ex at this moment but he’s been hesitant to get involved with anyone since she left him with a baby and walked out the door. It’s been hard and he’s finally taking time for himself. He’s going to let you take what you want from him. “Wanna see you cum again.” He rasps, groaning when you clench around him, getting closer.

“I will.” You moan, bouncing on his cock faster and gasping out when he pushes against a perfect spot deep inside you. “God I want to cum all over you.”

"Do it." He pleads, his jaw clenched as he tries to focus on not cumming before you. It's been too long since all he had was his hand. He groans and slides his hand between you, finding your clit to rub, needing you to fall apart for him.

That little nudge of his fingers is all you need. Crying out his name so loud it’s almost a scream you shake apart on top of him, clenching down on his cock and creaming all over it as your hips stutter and you collapse against his chest to press your lips to his breathlessly.

He pulls his hand from between you, his arms wrapping around you and he is desperate to cum. He thrusts up into you, hissing at the way you clench around him. So tight he can barely thrust up into you, and he groans as he pushes deep and finally lets go. He paints your walls with his hot cum, a pant of your name escapes his lips as the breath is knocked from him.

You pant as he relaxes underneath you. Both of you are trying to catch your breath. “Wow.” His cowboy hat is pushed back, falling off your back and you start to giggle in pleasure. Amazed at how good that was. “Good ride, cowboy.”

He chuckles, heart pounding in his chest as he caresses your back, “fuck, my fantasies didn’t do you justice. You are incredible.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder and up your neck.

You hum in agreement. He cock is softening inside you but you don’t even have the strength to move off of him. “Much better than getting drunk downstairs.”

Joel smiles, “absolutely. I, uh, wouldn’t mind doing it again. And again.” He confesses with a softness to his voice as he caresses you. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Do you, maybe, uh, wanna go out sometime?” He asks, wanting you to know this isn’t just a quick fuck at a party.

“Of course I do.” You smirk, pulling back and giving him a small wink. “How else will I be able to ride this construction cowboy anytime I want?” You joke, happy that Lindsey had convinced you to come to this party tonight. This was much better than eating too much candy on your sofa all alone. “Although next time, I want to see that fucking tool belt on your hips. Do you know how sexy that is?”

Joel actually blushes and he shakes his head, "I didn't know. Tool belt...I can make that happen." He promises and leans in to kiss you again. You groan after you pull back, shifting off of him and he reaches down to tuck his soft cock away. "I know I come as a package deal but Sarah loves you. She thinks you are cool as shit. She will be part of the deal if we - you know?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know that.” You promise him. “Never would have thought any different. Sarah is your world. I respect that. She is the first priority in your life, like she should be. I would just like to spend some time with you, and her. I want to see where this could go.” You smile. “It’s not like we live far apart.” You remind him, knowing that it would be a good thing to be so close, unless things don’t work out.

Joel nods, “yeah. Yeah. I just - not everyone wants a single dad.” He admits and you reach out to caress his cheek, “a hot single dad. One I want to fuck.” You giggle and Joel blushes again, “I can definitely arrange that. You want another drink? Some snacks?” He offers, knowing he won’t want to leave the guest room for quite some time. You nod and he shifts off the bed, adjusting his jeans and he puts his shirt back on. He grabs his hat and places it on his head, a wink towards you as he opens the door, “I’ll be right back.” He promises and steps out of the guest room. Making his way downstairs barefoot, he passes couples and friends until he sees Tommy who asks where you are. “She’s upstairs.” Joel confesses, biting his lip, and Tommy smacks him on the shoulder. 

“Fucking finally, man. Good for you. You two make a cute couple. Don’t fuck it up.” Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel nods, “only thing that’s gonna fuck this up is a goddamn zombie apocalypse.” He jokes and Tommy snorts, “you deserve to be happy, man.” Joel thanks him, grabbing the food and drinks to make his way back upstairs. He’s excited for the future. A future with you.

[idanceuntilidie]

Hii! Can i request yan cheater with male reader? I really like your writing, and I also love you sm! Have a nice day 💗💗💗💗

Thank you so much I'm gonna cry, I love you too!! Sorry if this is wonky, today was a very exhausting day for me mentally. I hope you enjoy anyway <3 come again :D i made the cheater male I hope you don't mind--

Yandere Cheater x M!Reader

Requests are open

TW: yandere behaviours, breaking and enetering, slightly digusting parts including human hair and organs.

Ciaran was quite special. Very handsome, always surrounded by people. You aren’t sure if being with him was a blessing or a curse.

He swore he was yours only, but you can’t help but feel hurt when he is flirting with someone right in front of you. There are also times where his phone blows with notifications from different people. It hurt, your heart felt like it was shattering just to be put back and destroyed again.

But the last straw was when you got a message from one of his lovers, they got a moment ofweakness, they felt bad and spilled everything out in a long message. The cherry on top were screenshots and photos of them kissing each other.

You were sure this time your heart just ceases to exist. You cried a lot that day, not ready to face Ciaran. You packed his things and left them outside of the door.

It baffled him how you would leave him just like that, it was just a small misunderstanding. It was, he thinks, just one time thing. You got just oh so boring he couldn’t take it anymore. He still loves you! He really does.

He missed your smile, your smell, how beautiful you looked in the rising sun when you just woke up. His heart squeezes in his chest. Another night spent waiting by your door, you won’t let him in of course, but he just likes to sit there, happily humming when he sees you through your windows. It became a routine, you never called the cops on him, which means you still must like him. Hope burned in his chest, and slowly the obsession for you began.

And he will get his little boyfriend back. You don’t feel safe in your house anymore, Ciarian gave up on sitting outside of your house yes, but now you can’t stop receiving messages and calls from random numbers.

Sometimes the caller breathes, silently stuttering your name, sometimes even moaning. Calling you his little pretty boy and shit. It made your stomach twist. You called the police many times, but at this point they just don’t believe you because of your lack of evidence. Lazy bastards. You also began receiving gifts, your favorite food, drinks, clothes that fit you perfectly. There was well, one time where your friend was over and one of these gifts appeared, with a card attached to it. A box of chocolates.

You were very tired that day, barely keeping yourself awake, you told your friend to take it. They accepted gladly, and began to eat while you went to the kitchen to make some coffee for you and them, that's when you heard a shriek and gagging sounds. You ran to your friend and saw them pulling hair out of their mouth, there was some skin attached to it. Your friend threw up soon after.

So, after that incident their gifts landed in trash. You feared what you might find out in them next. You don’t feel safe here, but you don’t have enough money to move. So like a rational person, you took another shift. The less you are home the better. It turns out you were wrong.

You came back in the middle of the night, you were practically falling asleep while standing up. You took off your shoes and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water so you can head to bed. When you turned on the light you froze in place. A beautifully wrapped heart shaped box sat on the counter waiting. You swallowed, body moving on your own. The gifts never appeared inside of your house. Hell, they are getting bolder with each gift. As you got closer to the box, a foul smell filled your senses. It was sweet, a little fruity.  Your shaking hands hovered over the opening of the box, carefully lifting up the lid.

Your scream echoed through the house, as you fell down to the floor. Inside of the box was a human heart, carefully placed and surrounded by your favourite flowers.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath on your cheek.

Ciaran.

Your breath hitched, you didn’t dare to move as his bloody hands wrapped around your shaking form.

“Did you like my gift? Only the best for my boyfriend, do you forgive me now? Look how much I have done for you.” He kissed your cheek.

“I forgive you for kicking me out, I’m a better man after all of this has ended you know? Now we can be together forever.”

[yurishots]

CAFE AU ━ o. miya

GENRE ━ fluff + the smallest amount of angst

WC ━ 770

Ever since Osamu has aged and settled into his new life as a shop and home owner, it seems like couples have been miraculously popping up everywhere he looks. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a bit of loneliness seeing couples in booths sharing the food he made. Him being a romantic never helped either—the fantasy of seeing his s/o after a long day at Onigiri Miya plagued his mind constantly, as well as the domestic feeling of coming home knowing that someone will be there waiting for him. 

The brunette began to put himself out there more, but not like his blonde counterpart. It was more subtle; making more conversation with his patrons and posting a little more on instagram. He became a fanatic for a short while—constantly stalking his notifications and dm requests even though he knew there would be nothing new. He contemplated giving up on the whole romance act, maybe it's a luxury only certain people can have. 

Sighing for the fifth time this morning, Osamu shoves his phone into his back pocket. A past friend of his posted some pictures from his wedding. “Must be nice,” he mumbles under his breath. After washing his hands, he prepares to head to the back before hearing a delicate voice break the silence of his early morning shift. 

“Hi, can I get a coffee?” Osamu froze as he heard the voice of this customer, he’s never heard anything like it. He looks up to see a smile adorning your face as you wait for him to confirm the order. The shop owner hopes he doesn’t look stupid as he quickly wipes his hands on his apron and clears his throat. 

Osamu quirked up his brow in curiosity,”just a coffee?” The request was quite vague, there’s a million coffees in the world, he’s not a mind reader after all. 

“What kind? we carry a bunch of flavors y’know!” He watched as an amused expression took over your face as you listened to him. 

“Well, I actually don’t know since your menu up there is quite empty.” Osamu looked up at the digital menu screen above him to realize that it is indeed—blank. a wave of embarrassment washes over him as he grabs the remote off the counter behind him and presses the on button. The menu soon lit up with a bunch of options for you to continue your less detailed coffee order from earlier. 

“I'm really sorry about that,” his face feels flushed from the embarrassment of the moment and because of the sound of your laughter entering his ears. 

“It's fine, I'll take an espresso.” Osamu nodded as he entered your order into the system in front of him. “And your name?” You looked up quickly with a small ‘hm?’ and gave him your name, “Y/n L/n.” The tapping noise resumed as he typed in your name, smiling softly at the fact he knows you a little bit more. As you leave the counter to find a seat, the shop begins to fill up slowly as people come in for breakfast. 

Usually Osamu calls out his customer’s names for them to grab their items, but he felt as if you deserved the delivery. He calms his nerves before walking over to your table by the window, “Here you go Y/n,” he says softly as he hands you your mug, telling you to be careful because it's hot. He slowly retreats back to his spot behind the counter to make the orders since his coworker has shown up to take them. Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he smiles seeing that you’re enjoying your drink as you gaze out the window. “Osamu!” His co worker snapped to get his attention, the amount of drinks he had to prepare had piled up. Sending her an apologetic look, he got back to work. 

After making and sending off the last coffee, he looked over to where you were sitting to see an empty table with a lonely mug. Osamu sucked his teeth, he planned on asking you if you enjoyed it. As he walked over to the table to clean it, he noticed a slip of paper poking out from under the mug. He grabbed it and read its contents. 

“Y/n L/n: XXX-XXX-XXXX. here’s my number, I’d like to talk to you some more. P.S: I saw you staring at me ;p.” 

Smiling to himself, he pocketed the note and cleaned up the previously occupied table. Maybe this romance thing isn’t so hard after all. 

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

Red Lights - Lost the Breakup Part 1

Ex!Lando Norris x Reader, Oscar Piastri x reader

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

A/n: Hiiii guess who's back pookies, I totally not have an anatomy paper to write and procrastinated by writing this

Next Part

“Being in a relationship while being in F1 is exhausting.. That could just be me though. “

Lando  said the words so offhandedly that you’d almost missed them, but the meaning couldn't be interpreted any differently. You were exhausting. You could see his PR person gently hit his arm at the statement and he quickly changed the subject. 

The silence in your shared hotel room wrapped around you and before you knew it you had begun to pack your suitcase. Lando wouldn’t be due back for a few hours at least and that was enough time to pack up and get to the airport. 

Your phone buzzed as you were wheeling your suitcase to sit next to the door of the room. 

OP81:  I know you saw the interview. Are you ok? 

Y/n : No.

Y/n: Did you know that he felt that way? That I’m exhausting and he’s not in love? 

OP81: I was as blindsided as you. I thought you guys were great. He always talked about how he couldn't imagine life without you. 

OP81: Have you spoken to Lando? 

Y/n: No and I'm not planning to, I’m about to head to the airport. 

OP81: Need a ride? 

25 minutes later you are sitting in the passenger seat of Oscar’s hire car on your way to the airport. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride, just peeked at you periodically as you stared at the passing cars on the highway. 

“If you’re planning on jumping out, just know I already put the child lock on… and besides a guy who thinks you’re exhausting isn't worth jumping onto the highway” He says, glancing over again. 

“Duly noted.” you say, not even glancing towards him. 

“What are you going to do when you get back to Monaco? It’ll only be two days and Lando will be back, do you have somewhere to stay?” There’s a hint of worry in his voice. You realise that you didn’t know he cared that much. 

“I’ll figure something out. I’m sure I can stay in a hotel for a few days.” 

“You can stay at my place, if you want?’ Oscar suggests, “I’ve got more rooms than I know what to do with” 

You nod slightly, “That would actually be really good, I don’t think I can face being in our flat right now.” 

Oscar smoothly pulls up at the departure gate. He pulls the suitcase from the back for you. He looks at you, his expression blank but his eyes showing a hint of concern. Oscar pulls a set of keys from his pocket. 

“Here, I’ll text you the address.” He presses the keys into your hand. “Just…”  His hand comes up to wipe across his face, “Take care, y/n” 

You nod and pull Oscar into a hug. “Thank you,osc”,  you begin to tear up, “for everything. I know he’s your friend.” 

“He may be my friend but you’re my friend too,” He says into your shoulder, “ You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Oscar leaves a gentle kiss on your cheek, and heads towards the car. You give him a tight smile and wave after him as he drives off. 

–

It was thankfully early when you arrived at Oscar’s Monaco flat. You really didn’t need any more attention on your relationship than you’d had in the past 4 hours. 

After the flood of twitter and instagram notifications regarding the comments Lando had made, it had been easier to deactivate your social media than have to look at the messages from Lando’s fans. Some were nice, sure, but the majority, or what felt like the majority, were people saying that they knew you were never good enough for him. That you’d been using him for attention or money. 

There were two messages from Lando. 

Lan: Oscar said he took you to the airport

Lan: Don’t you think you might be overreacting? 

Oscar’s flat was quiet, aside from the humm of Monaco nightlife. You never understood why New York was “the city that never sleeps” when Monaco was constantly alive from early morning cafes to midnight casino’s to the drunken groups stumbling back to hotels at 4am. 

You hadn’t left the flat for two days by the time Oscar got back on Monday morning. Curled up in bed, sporadically getting up for cups of tea before stumbling back to bed to continue the routine of crying and staring at the ceiling of the spare room. 

He knocked gently on the doorframe, leaning against it with an unreadable expression. 

“I won,” He stated. 

Your head snapped towards him at the sound of his voice, “Osc” You rasped,voice hoarse after days of crying. “What?”

“I won,” He repeated, “for you.” He cleared his throat, as if he hadn’t intended to say the second part. 

“For me?” You questioned. 

“You’re not exhausting.” He couldn’t stop himself. “You’re like a sip of cold water on a hot day. You’re the feeling I get sitting on the grid, waiting for those red lights. You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…” 

He trailed off. “I’m sorry. I know this isn't the right time.” He turned and retreated into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

You stared at the ceiling of the room. How could you have not noticed? Every interaction with Oscar flashed in your mind. First meeting him while out clubbing with Lando after hearing so much about Lando’s new teammate; To late night runs to get ice cream cause Lando didn’t want to ruin his diet, that became habit on a Thursday night as Oscar needed his ‘secret weapon for the weekend; to the words Oscar had just breathed into your room.

You’re exciting and terrifying and I’m sorry I waited so long to say it but…

But what?

[latenightdaydreams]

Haii!

How do we feel about a smut with pornstar reader & pornstar Konig? Like- their comments in their vids/twts/etc. always saying to collab w/ eachother and after awhile, they finally do 👀

-🖤

(Also sorry if I already sent this- I forgot if I did😭)

You didn't! I love the idea of being shipped with Pornstar!König. The Austrian with a monster cock🤤

Pornstar!König x Pornstar!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral

3.1k word count

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König is famous in the adult film world. During lock down he downloaded Only Fans and ended up making his own account. His striking blue eyes, hidden face mystery, and 6’10 280 lb frame of solid muscles weren’t the only reasons he became so famous; he also has a 10-inch cock the size of most women’s forearms.

You, on the other hand, are a cam girl turned OF girl. You are known by your fan base never being scared of a challenge. You use toys that make people's jaws drop. Your body being strikingly stunning along with a beautiful face and kinky appetite for sex, you blew up quickly on the platform.

Because of the material you make, your fans instantly made you aware of another content creator, König. After about the 100th comment, you decide to go on your X account and check out his page. Instantly you notice the mask covering his face and his blue eyes. His bio gives his height and weight, your jaw drops. You continue to scroll and see a photo he’s recently posted. He’s wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt. His body is stunning, but your eyes drop to the outline of his erection in his pants, his dick literally hanging down his leg. You smirk now, understanding why the fans think you two should film together. You go ahead and give him a follow.

◅  ◃      ▹  ▻

König has also seen the comments. After the first one he instantly looked you up. His eyes shot open when he saw the photo of toys on your profile. Scrolling down a few posts he sees you, and wow. You’re wearing a pink lace thong with your breast fully exposed. You have a sweet smile on your face and you’re standing in a field of wildflowers. You look ethereal. He instantly took notice of you, but contrary to his online persona, he is very socially awkward. He has no idea how to reach out to you, or any girl; that’s why he only posts solo. Then while he is scrolling looking at his feed, he gets a notification. You just followed him.

He quickly sits up and smiles. He clicks your profile and begins to look at all the photos you’ve posted again. His heart rate is picking up, he doesn’t know if he should message you or wait. That’s when your phone chimed and he got the notification that you messaged him.

> “Hey! I’m sure you know of me from your comments 😂, but I’m y/n!”

He reads your message probably ten times before getting the courage to respond to you.

> “Hey, ja, I know you. It’s nice to finally talk.”

He hits send quickly and waits for you to respond. He can feel his heart rate picking up. He hopes that you’re messaging him to make content together. He can feel his excitement rising as his leg bounces waiting for your next message.

You sit feeling nervous yourself as you look down at your phone. He responded so quickly it didn’t give you time to think of a smooth way to ask about a collab. You’ve only ever filmed solo or with women, never a man.

> “I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe getting together? I see you mostly do solo, so please feel no pressure. I just figured the fans would love it.”

König stands and punches the air like his favorite sports team had just won the big game. Now he just has to act smoothly and not ruin this.

> “I’d love to.”

Both of you do a little celebration dance, feeling excited about the possibility of filming together. You both continue to message back and forth and work out how you’d both meet on account of him being based in Austria, but you both work something out.

◅  ◃      ▹  ▻

One week later you post on your social media accounts a photo of a plane at the airport. The comments explode with assumptions and more tagging of König. During the next few hours, you continue to post your travels while König doesn’t post at all.

That is until he posts a photo of a small feminine hand in his and then you post a bathroom mirror selfie with a man’s large arm around your waist. You sit with König in your Airbnb on the living room sofa, both giggling as people begin to realize the collab is about to happen.

König paid for you to fly to him, picked you up at the airport, and paid for your Airbnb. You knew König was 6’10, but seeing him in person actually blew you away. Plus, he is so sweet. In person, his face remains covered by the mask. You have questions, but you leave it alone.

Your first day together you spend the day going over health, boundaries, safe words, and any questions you might have for each other. Once everything is settled, you both plan to film the next day to allow you to get some rest.

◅  ◃      ▹  ▻

König wakes up early and works out the day of filming. He eats a light breakfast and takes a long shower to help with his nerves. He is excited to have sex with a woman that he knows is very capable of taking someone his size instead of having only the tip of his cock in someone. Getting dressed in sweats and a black shirt, he makes his way to you.

You are currently sitting on the floor in front of a full-length mirror to do your makeup. You just do a light natural look for today. You’re wearing a black silk robe over your nude body with two sets of lingerie set out, waiting to get König’s opinion.

A knock at the door, you jump up and rush to the front door. Smiling, you let König inside and motion for him to follow you to the main bedroom.

“Okay, so I have two options for today and I wanted your input.”

He follows you to see a large king size bed with white lush looking comforters and he feels his nerves spike again. He sees one black lingerie set and then a light pink one that looks like the one from the first photo he ever saw of you.

“Pink, it will look great with your skin tone.” König says looking at you with a soft smile behind his mask.

You grab pink and go to the connected bathroom to get dressed.

König walks around the room and sets up the ring lights and cameras for different angles. He stands looking around and waiting for you. Slowly he takes his shoes off when the bathroom door opens and he gets to see you. He’s seen you naked online, but in person you looked even more perfect. He stands and just looks at you for a while before speaking.

“You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” you can’t help but to find his Austrian accent attractive. “Thanks for setting up too.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” König reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off.

Your eyes go over his body and smirk at how attractive he looks. You notice his erection forming as you walk to the bed.

“Do you want to film everything? Like role play and all?” You ask in a soft voice, the tension in the air heavy as you’re both ready now.

“Uh, let's film it all. I’d rather have more to edit from.” And also, because he’d want to watch these moments with you later.

◅  ◃      ▹  ▻

König lifts his mask slightly, the first time his audience will be seeing his sharp jawline and his thin soft lips. His lips meet yours in a tender first kiss as his hands begin to roam over your body. His hand squeezes your breast gently as your lips part and your tongues caress each other’s.

You move your hand down his chest, feeling the small amount of chest hair the covers his chest. His muscles twitch lightly at your touch. His penis now fully erect in his pants as he tastes your lips and feels the touch of your soft skin.

He moves his hands behind your back and begins to unhook your bra. Slipping the straps off your shoulders slowly before pulling it away from your body. He breaks the kiss and gently leans you back on the bed. His lips kiss all over your breasts until he finds one of your nipples. He licks in slow circles around it before closing his lips and sucking lightly. Opening his mouth again he begins to flick his tongue.

You let out a soft moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head, pressing him against you, the fabric of his mask soft. His other hand goes down to your thighs and begins to gently move up them, caressing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs.

He pulls away from your breasts and whispers to you, “Is it okay if I touch?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him asking for consent.

His hand grabs your leg and moves it to where the camera can see everything, He moves the thin fabric of your thong aside and begins to rub his thick fingers between your folds. You’re already wet when he touches you and that excites him knowing you’re so turned on. He moves his lips back to yours as he gently rubs your clit. Small moans leaving your lips, muffled into his. He eventually slips one finger down and pushes it gently into you. He feels the texture of your walls and feels how tight you are. He can only think about shoving himself deep inside of you, but he wants you to get off first.

He moves his kisses from your lips back down to your breast before kissing down your stomach. He moves your leg a little more as he rests his head on your thigh, he kisses your clit before flicking his tongue. Your legs jerk and you sit up to look down at him eating you out. He can’t get over how good you smell and taste. He is surprised you aren’t selling your panties; men would pay big money for this.

“Oh, fuck König,” you moan caressing the side of his face.

König slips in another finger as picks up his pace, as he continues to lick your clit. Hearing you moan his name means that he is on the right path to get you to orgasm for him. Your hand grasps the fabric of his mask, making him smirk before he switches to begin just sucking your clit. Your legs tremble as you drop your head back and lay back down. The sound of your wet cunt gets louder as you cum on his fingers. He keeps going for a while before pulling back.

You lie there panting before you giggle and sit up, “Your tongue is amazing.”

He chuckles and goes in to kiss you, making you taste your sweet pussy on your own lips. You move your hands to his chest before moving down to his cock, pulling back you pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. His heart rate began to pick up. The videos of you deep throating your toys comes into his mind and he gets excited. Lifting his ass, König helps you pull his sweats off of him, boxers as well.

Seeing his cock spring free makes you smile; his cock is as big as some of your toys. König leans back to support himself on his elbows to allow you room but he still wants to watch.

Grasping his dick at the base, you stroke it lightly as you lick the back of his tip. König’s breathing heavy as his blue eyes watch with anticipation. You move your hand and lick from the base all the way up his shaft, back and forth and a few times before finally wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. You begin to suck on the tip and move your head in a fast motion making König moan out. He reaches down and moves some of your hair out of your face.

“Ah, ja, just like that.” His voice shakes as you keep going.

Finally, you lower your head down the length of his shaft. Your full lips wrapping tightly around him as you take his ten inches inch by inch down your throat. König watches in amazement as he has never had a woman be able to take more than half his cock into their throat. He takes a sharp breath before letting a small moan out.

You feel a bit of pride being able to take someone like him, to make him moan like that. You look up at his eyes as you continue to suck his cock.

“Is this okay?” König asks as his hand moves to the back of your head.

“Mmhhmm,” you respond without stopping.

His hand gently guides you motion as the other one is behind him supporting himself. He lets himself enjoy the pleasure of your skills. Gently lifting your face with one hand he brings your lips to his, lifting his mask and kissing you. He wants you fully now.

Pushing your body back without breaking the kiss, his hands caress your body. You both agreed on no condom but to us the pull out method and since both of you are clean. Slowly pulling away from your soft lips he looks down at you and removes your thong, tossing it to the side.

“Are you ready, Schatz?”

“I am.”

“Gut.”

Grabbing you by your hips he drags you forward. He is such a massive man that he can easily move you. You giggle as he does and he responds with a chuckle of his own.

“Your voice is so sweet.” He tells you as he grasps your thigh as pulls one leg back for the camera view again. He rubs himself back and forth over your folds before he begins to push himself into you. His eyes watch your face to watch for pain or discomfort, yet he sees nothing but bliss.

König pushes himself as far in as your tight cunt will take at first. You moan out, grabbing his arm and the bed sheets. Your sweet pussy welcomes him with a warm wet hug and he pushes in more, a moan leaving his lips as you take him.

“You’re so tight, Schatz.” König speaks with a voice dripping with lust. His hips begin to thrust harder into you, letting his desire take over.

Your lips hug his fat cock as he pumps it into you leaving your creamy cum on his cock. He pulls out and stands to grab one of the cameras. He comes back and points it to your pussy as he slides his cock back into you, recording the way your tight cunt can easily stretch for him.

“Look at that beautiful pussy, you truly take cock so well. So fucking tight.” He picked up his pace, holding the camera in place as you reached down and put your own leg back. Your fingers digging into your own flesh as you moan out his name.

“Please König, fuck me.” You look into his eyes begging for him to get you off again.

König returns the gaze as he fucks you harder. The phone picking up the sounds your pussy is making and both of your moans.

“That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”

Your eyes flutter back as your body tenses, your cunt tightening around his cock. He puts the phone down and fucks you through your orgasm letting the other cameras pick it up. His body leaning into yours as your hands move to his back and begin to drag your nails along his pale skin.

“Good girl,” he whispers to you as he lifts his mask slightly to kiss you all over your neck and face. His hands grasp your body tightly as he continues to thrust into you. His balls begin to tighten and he feels the temptation of just cumming deep inside of you, but he can’t.

Quickly König pulls out and grabs the phone again to record. “Come here,” he grabs your hand to pull you up and sits at the edge of the bed. He points the camera down at you as you scoot closer to his cock.

Moving your pillowy lips up and down his cock, sucking as you do. You begin to lick your own wet from his cock.

“Suck it Liebling,” his voice breathy.

You move your mouth to wrap around his cock again. König grabs your hair in his hand to hold your head steady as he begins to buck his hops forward, face fucking you gently. You look up at him, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you. He moves his 10-inch cock deeper and deeper as he fucks faster. Your eyes begin to water as you close your eyes.

“Open, look at me. Please.” König moans.

Once your eyes open and you look back up at him, he presses your head all the way down. His cock outline is visible in your throat. You gargle on his cock before he pulls it out and begins to jerk off quickly. You open your mouth and hold your breast up waiting for his load.

He cums on you, letting out loud grunts of pleasure as he does. His milky white seed shoots some on your breast, your mouth, but most on your face. He smiles at how beautiful you look covered in him. You play with it a little for the camera before he stops recording.

You both relax on the bed and pant, relaxing. König looks over to you and gestures for you to come snuggle with him. The other two cameras picked up the sweet moment.

◅  ◃      ▹  ▻

The video blows up on both of your pages. Fans ecstatic to see you get dominated by König’s monster cock finally. The chemistry you both had radiating through the camera adding to the passion. People requesting more and starting to ship the two of you.

You have 5 more days in Austria and König is excited to spend those few days with you. He’s at home, late at night, watching the clips of him snuggling you after sex. A small smile on his face as he watches it over and over. He didn’t want to, but he caught feelings. He wonders if you feel the same.

[ilythena]

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 || 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

★SUM when you decide to break up with your boyfriend, you never thought you’d end up sleeping with his enemy.

SMUT!!!! Fem reader, one night stand turned lovers, oral (F and M receiving), sloppy make outs, cheating (reader and her bf are cheating on each other), mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t actually happen, hangover sex, creampies, phone sex (readers bf calls and they pick up mid deed), Jack doesn’t give two shits lmao, he’s kinda switchy???, “I can treat you better than he can” trope, reader is a celebrity but her personal work is not mentioned, use of y/n, unhealthy relationships, Jack does not live with Luke in this fic, readers ex boyfriend is not named and can be whoever you’d like it to be.

WC of 3.2K, not proofread 😥

♪ Practice - Drake

“All I want to do is go out and you’re already acting like a bitch.” Your boyfriend says as he buttons up his shirt

“You promised this time we would stay in.” You said from your spot in the room as he shifts his eyes to look at you from the mirror and his brows furrow “so what? You want me to be inside all the time and be boring? I have a social life I have to keep up with, y/n. You can either stop being a pain in the ass about it and come with me or stay here by yourself.” He says as he walks out the room and with a heavy heart you follow him outside.

Sitting in the passenger seat silent he drives you both out to some random club with random people and quickly ditches you without even saying goodbye

Your boyfriend immediately left you in the corner as soon as you both got there, and there you were standing there like you knew you would be. Everyone's drinking and smoking who knows what and it makes your skin crawl at the fact that you have no clue who your even around right now.

"Hey beautiful. What're you doing here alone?" Some random creep says to you and you have to physically hold back from cringing into your skin, the alcohol evident on his breath.

"Sorry, I'm not looking for anyone" you say and quickly down your drink to move to the dance floor to get away. Bumping into strangers you realize the alcohol kicks in quicker than you thought it would. Eventually finding your boyfriend and rolling your eyes at the way he’s obviously flirting with another girl, you quickly realize you’re gonna have to find another way home tonight.

Trying your best to forget about your shitty excuse of a boyfriend, you very quickly start to dance with some random. Though the lights are extremely dark, you could tell he was handsome.

Told you he’s seen you around before, and than he’s been plotting on you for a while. His offering of a drink somehow turnt into you grinding against him and in the blink of an eye you’re stumbling into his apartment, drunk and insanely horny.

Lightheaded. That's the only word you could use to describe how you feel so early in the morning.

Forcing your eyes open you see the man who’s name is apparently Jack laying on your chest-knocked out asleep. You sigh and grab your phone to check the time: 5:30 am, you have a few notifications from the group chat you and your friends share; most of it just your friends being they’re usual crazy selfs with your other friends entertaining it.

Your hand finds itself into his hair, stroking it while he lets out quiet snores against you. The buzz from the alcohol must've followed you into the next morning cause you still feel so relaxed, head spinning but in a good way. You feel jack shift against you to pull you closer and you look down at him.

His eyes are on you now, mumbling a "good morning" while his hands run down your back and he presses a kiss on your collarbone. The action makes your heart flutter and you whisper "good morning" back to him, hand pushing the hair out of his face while he scoots up to lay his head in the crook of your neck.

“Jack, I really shouldn’t be here-“ “I know you have a boyfriend, pretty girl. I don’t care about him. He doesn’t deserve you.” He cuts you off with a mumble of the last part and you’re stuck in minor shock

You don’t protest his statement knowing that he was right. If your boyfriend can have some fun why can’t you?

You two have simple conversation, him asking what time it was and how you were and you responding. You scrolled through instagram seeing yet another picture of your boyfriend leaving the club with some random woman and he watched silently while rubbing his hands onto your waist. He suddenly hums and makes small pecks into your neck, kissing around until he finds a spot that makes you breathe a little heavier and leaning your head to the side so he can get better leverage at the spot.

"What're you doing?" You whisper, curious but making no effort to stop him. "Kissing you." He replied blankly, mumbling small praises in between the kisses. You move his head so you could kiss him on the lips— sloppily but passionate. He pinches your sides to make you gasp so that he can slip his tongue into your mouth, groaning into the kiss.

He moves a knee between your legs so you don't close them, moving your shirt up so he can kiss down your torso until he gets down to your pants. He looks up at you; asking with his eyes if he can remove them and you nod. He wastes no time taking your pants off and removing your underwear, dick twitching when he sees how wet you are.

'''S all for me?" He mumbles into your thigh and you nod again, breath hitching in your throat. "Use your words." He says, kissing up and down your thighs-both arousal and nervousness pooling in your stomach at the sight of him kneeled down in front of you. "Yes. All for you." You say, and you could barely get another word out before he begun to lick a stripe up your slit.

An audible gasp left your mouth while a groan left his, and your hand—that was previously holding your shirt up—flew to his hair and gripped onto it for balance.

"Why didn't you tell me you tasted so good?" Jack said, words coming out slurred due to him not bothering to stop the attack on your pussy. "H-when was I supposed to tell you tha- oh my god." you said, words getting cut off when his tongue circles your clit.

He's really eating you out now, head mushed between your thighs, licking and sucking every part of you his tongue can reach. You don't know how he became so alert so quickly, he just was damn near asleep barely even half an hour ago. The feeling becomes too much, you squirming around and him grabbing both of your thighs to bring you back to him, mumbling a "stay still for me" into your core as he continues.

It's only a few more moments until you get closer to the edge, whines and moans increasing in pitch as Jack inhumanly speeds up. " Jack, I'm close" you whine, and he just hums as he continues. Your thighs closing in on his head as you cum and him groaning, trying to practically drink it before you have to forcefully remove his head from your pussy. His eyes are low, filled with lust and you're panting, trying to catch your breath.

“I’m not done with you, pretty. Let me fuck that loser boyfriend of yours out of your head, hm?” He says as he drags you closer to the middle of the bed, near his now hard dick that was now very obviously poking through his shorts.

The fact that he’s not wearing a shirt makes this process much easier, as all he had to do was slide down his shorts and kick them off. You’re staring at him and you don’t know what to think right now, he’s huge. He looks at you for a brief moment before smirking, “you like what you see?” He says and your face gets a little hot when you realize you’ve been caught. He spits down into his hand and gives you a little show, jerking himself off and teasing his tip on your slit.

“I wanna suck you off” you suddenly blurt out and he can’t help but chuckle a little. “Next time, lovely. If I don’t fuck you right now I think I might explode.”

“Jack please don’t tease me” you whine and he kisses up from your collarbones to your ear, and whispers a beg for it into your ear. “Please, please, put it in. I need to feel you.” Was all it took from you before he put a hand next to your head and he was pushing himself into you.

He pushed in slowly, part of it wanting you to get you to the stretch, but the other part of it was for him to not cum quickly. “You’re so fucking tight y/n, god.” He groans out and you moan out when he finally bottoms out inside of you.

Jack doesn’t waste any time pounding into you as you quickly grab onto his shoulders for support. “Oh!” You cry out and he grunts in reply, “so fucking wet too. This turn you on? Having a real man take care of you like this.” He says as he grabs you by your chin so you can look at him and you sob out a yes for him.

“Feels so good, Jack. So full of you, fucking me so good” you whine out and he lets out what would seem to be a quiet whimper “keep talking to me like that and I’m definitely not gonna last long, baby.” He licks his thumb and brings it down to your clit to rub it in fast, tight circles that makes your jaw drop and your toes curl.

“Oh fuck! Jack!” You say as your back arches off the bed and he puts his other free hand on your back for support. “Come on baby, let go for me. Cum on this cock.” He whines into your neck and with a few more thrust you were creaming all over him. He keeps going and you quickly get overstimulated while he holds your hips down into the bed

“Just a little more, pretty. I’m gonna cum so fucking hard into you. Fuck.” He pants out and like he said, after a few more deep thrusts, he cums inside of you.

He gently lays on top of you as you both catch your breaths and come down from your orgasms. He kisses your temple and whispers about how he’s going to run you a bath and bring you some water.

“What am I going to wear? And as much as I would love to stay here I have to go home.” You whisper and he tells you not to worry about it, that you could take one of his shirts and he’ll take you home his self. You don’t object when he carries you to the bathroom and sets the water temperature to warm.

Begrudgingly getting out of jacks car and giving him your number, you grab your keys and walk into your very empty apartment. Usually you’d be upset, however this time you’ve never been more grateful. You wash your face and put on a movie to lay on the couch and rest.

You’re rudely awoken when your boyfriend walks through the door at 11:30 am and you don’t even bother to ask him where he’s been when you know exactly where he was.

“Hey babe.” He says and you hum a small “hey” back to him. He doesn’t even know you didn’t come home last night and you plan to keep it that way.

“What’s up with you? All relaxed.” He says and you shrug “I was taking a nap…” you say and he side eyes you. You don’t usually sleep unless he comes home but he lets it go as you were probably tired.

It’s been a few weeks of you and Jack sneaking around while your boyfriend doesn’t have a clue. And a part of you feels bad about it but then again he’s cheated multiple times and you’re simply not in love with him anymore.

Tomorrow, your boyfriend has a game against the New Jerseys devils which excites you because then you get to see Jack again.

“Why are you so happy to go? Never seen you this excited to see me kick some ass in a game before.” Your boyfriend chuckles as you mentally groan and put on a fake smile “just happy that I get to see my boyfriend play.” You lie straight out of your teeth, well not really. You are watching your boyfriend play, just not him. he smiles at your statement. “You know, recently you’ve been acting different. And honestly, I love it so much. You’re so much more calmer and it just makes me happy that knowing you regained that trust in me.” He said and you didn’t even respond. Just smiled like you didn’t know what was happening

“Only thing that’s pissing me off is that Jack kid” he says and you freeze. “…What do you mean?” “I mean like, he’s just some pretty boy who thinks he’s the shit. Thinks he can do whatever he wants and tonight I’m gonna beat his ass in this game tonight to show him who’s boss.” You don’t say anything once again and you’re left with your thoughts while your boyfriend flips through the tv to find a channel to watch.

By the time you left the house, your boyfriend was already on the ice getting ready to start his match. You’re about to sit down next to your friend when a text comes through your phone.

Jack 🤍

Come meet me after the game.

You shoot back a 👍 before putting your phone down and talking with the girl beside you.

It was obvious who was going to win. A devastating game for your boyfriend with a 4-0 to The new jersey devils but a celebratory one for your affair partner. Your boyfriend doesn’t even look at you, just gets in his car after taking off his gear and goes home. You don’t even care anymore, and after you see all the boys leaving the opposite teams locker room, you text Jack asking if it was okay for you to come to his apartment and he immediately sends a yes.

You walk into the place and immediately you’re hugged by him, which sends butterflies to your stomach and a bright genuine smile to your face.

“Missed you, gorgeous. Saw how I kicked ass out there?” He says as he pulls away to look at your face and you smile even harder “I did! You played so good, super proud of you” and he gives you a deep kiss as you both giggle.

“You have to stop! What if you leave a mark?” You whisper laugh and he nips at your ear “don’t care anymore. Let them know how much I love you.” He says and you suddenly feel flustered “Jack….” “Y/n. You don’t have to be with him anymore. I can take care of you so much better than he can and you know that.” He says with so much seriousness in his voice that you’re left speechless

“Jack-“ “I genuinely love you. seriously. I want to be with you.” He says and you have no words so you just kiss him again. The kissing turns into him pinning you against the wall and the grinding and groping is very evident.

“Take all this off baby. I need you right now” he says as you’re quick to push him down onto his couch. “Not this time. It’s your win. Let me take care of you” you say and he whispers a fuck while his eyes run along your body.

You take off your top and after a few minutes of kissing and grinding, you drop to your knees and he lets out a gasp of pleasure at you palming him.

You unzip his pants and he’s breathing heavily, anticipating what you’d do next. You spit onto his dick and roll your hand around it for a few strokes before giving gentle kisses to his tip.

“Baby don’t tease, thought you were taking care of me?” He whines out as you giggle “I am. Be patient for me.” You say and his next words fall flat on his tongue as you start tonguing his head.

Finally granting his wish, you dip your head down and take him fully down your throat. Your cheeks pulling in to suck him tighter while your head dipped up and down. A groan of surprise leaves his mouth as his eyes immediately become hooded.

“Fuck, angel. Such a nice mouth you have on you” he groaned out. But his muttering and whining was quickly cut off with the way you sloppily put your tongue on his balls

“Holy shit. Oh my fucking god baby. You’re incredible” he moans out as you continue to jerk him off while popping of on his balls out of your mouth and moving on to the one beside it.

You took him back into your mouth and your hands worked around what you couldn’t reach, the head of his dick kissing the back of your throat in a pleasureful burn and you can feel tears swelling in your eyes when he gently grabs your head and begins to start fucking his full length down your throat.

His moans and whines become more desperate every second and it’s obvious he’s close to cumming. Although you’re enjoying your time here, your phone suddenly starts ringing. It’s your boyfriend. Jack groans out partly in annoyance and in pleasure and then he gets an idea. “Wanna show your boyfriend how pretty you look when I cum down your throat.” He almost cries out and you moan around him “please baby, can I pick up the phone at let him he- oh fuck, let him hear how well you take me?” He says as he struggles to keep his composure with the way you’re deepthroating him, cutting himself off with his own moans

You hum in approval and Jack doesn’t waste any time picking up that phone and putting your boyfriend on speaker.

“Hey. Where are you-“ and all that’s heard is a loud gag through the room and the sloppy noises of your mouth on jack’s cock.

“Fuck baby. Keep going please. I’m so fucking close, oh my god.” Jack says as he throws his head back, face flushed and neck red as you hold his hips down and begin bobbing your head up and down again.

“Y/n?! What the fuck is happening?! Who is that?!!” Your boyfriend frantically says as Jack takes the phone. “She’s a pro at sucking dick. Honestly I have no clue how you could even let her out of your sight” Jack grunts out and hangs up the phone, not even wanting to bother with him right now.

A few more bobs of your head and Jack is cumming down your throat. Chest heaving as he does so. “Oh fuck, you’re so perfect, holy shit.” He whines out and you’re determined to clean him up completely, continuing to suck him off until he was completely finished

“Fuck- you trying to kill me over here? God” he says with a small laugh as you finally pop off his dick, catching your breath.

As you and Jack bask in the afterglow, your boyfriend is blowing up your phone and before you can reach for it, Jack stops you.

“You don’t need to worry about him anymore. You’re mine now.”

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