#this is insanity and i will sue him for this
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forever obsessed with dynamics between vampires, specifically that of a maker and fledgling, as a way to explore abuse. the creation of a vampire itself can so easily be a literalization of the lasting impacts of trauma and also much more simply the ways a perpetrator might shape their victim’s very identity. the extremes of isolation in the way that the new vampire, in most narratives, must cut all ties to their mortal life, or else go through an elaborate charade to maintain the facade of humanity, while forever still being removed from it. and the sheer dependence and vulnerability of being in an entirely new state of being, wholly uncertain of what it entails, and relying on another person to define… everything.
#or just the moral dilemmas#rewatching amc interview is kind of making me insane#that moment in episode two when louis is looking for a sort of assurance in the fact that lestat may actually have some good in him#look at how he cares about music look at the simple wondrous things that can bring him joy#and then the immediate dread when the opera performance turns out to be imperfect because he knows how lestat will react to *that*#I think there’s also something really interesting in the highlighting of lestat upbraids the less skilled singer before killing him#(slowly)#but also I will wait to watch more before I articulate my thoughts#vampires#interview with the vampire#amc interview with the vampire#I do still find the lestat and claudia film and novel dynamic by far the most compelling for how she tries to usurp him but almost to be him#but I’m enjoying this#I’m very curious if I will like show claudia more on rewatch#the movie always resonated most with me (sue me lol) because there seemed to be more simultaneous fondness and attachment even at the end#dark stories of the north
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A few photos from Mini OC's journey this past week.
#tw: alcohol#alcohol#plushie#plushies#travel#wrestling plushie#also the wind was insane when I took the one with Sue's book on the beach#i wanted him to read it and include the ocean but the wind was not having it#also i am sure i got weird looks during all of these#and i wish i would have used the sunscreen instead of using it as a prop
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What a good episode. Maaaaaan
#I can't even start I'd be here forever#It did take me in fact like one hour total to watch it lmoa. It sooooo good!!! The animation is very good#(albeit it's awfully low on brightness at times. But such seems to be the sin of lot of recent media unfortunately)#but I'm not even going to dwell on that. The plot / storytelling is so good. Sooooo god. I adore this arc.#Love the symbolism. I've been saying this for almost two years now (is it really been that long ever since these episodes came out... ) but#I want to write an analysis on the op & ed so baddd. The emphasis on the twilight this episode!!#Like the sun was setting on the detective agency. I love love love the hd. They're so cool in this episode and they're so cool in general.#I ADORE Jouno. I don't feel particularly strongly for sue/giku yet their scenes are so cute and funny. I see why people ship them.#Even Tetchou I don't usually care much about is so !!!!! I love all the hd so much fr!!!!!!!!!!#I love love love Jouno. Like much like it is for Akutagawa I'm very weak for characters that aren't really good people.#But they're still trying to be a better person than they were. And oftentimes they end up doing a terrible job!!#But the fact alone that they're //trying// has me ougheueueueu. Here in this episode you can see Jouno–#sliping very easily in his cruel / sadistic habits. But he is trying to be a person that cares for others! He made good actions in the past#and he will again in the future even though right now he's acting like this! Because improvement isn't linear! I love him tonsss#And DON'T get me started on the ada. Yosano's “Welcome��� scene. I love women. I love women. Yosano please one chance#KENJI'S SCENE God I needed this. How could I forget the way this literllyyyyy rewinded my brain when I read the manga for the first time.#That scene is so deep and poignant and so so meaningful I. Oughhh#I am going to run out of tags am I not#Kyouka saving Atsushi!!!!!!! That scene is one of my all time favourites. It makes me soft to remember when the s4 trailer dropped–#I was so overjoyed for that bit of them holding hands :') Rightfully so!!! It's so cute.#Her coming back to save Atsushi. The “don't worry– I didn't kill them” direct towards Atsushi–#that is so so Akutagawa and it sends me insane hhhhhhgggggggggg#Kunikida!!!!! His “I'm not leaving anyone behind”!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not precisely Kunikida's first fan but aaaaaahhh he makes me feel–#so much for him in this scene!!!!! Mmmhhh one last note would be. It bugs me a little how the ada is defined terrorist by the military–#forces starting this episode? I don't have space to elaborate properly but. An action to be considered terrorism must have clear political–#orientation and goal. Violence alone isn't enought to be defined terrorism. It's an incorrect use of the word#Up to the next episode!!! Can't wait to see more Atsushi 🥰🥰#random rambles#It's late now and probably most are asleep rn... Then I'll be queing my posts for tomorrow probably
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'im gonna sleep' he lied
#snap chats#i love making the main text Bullshit and then putting the actual post below. ive said this before but idc its my art#its like... the main text is the title and the tags is the actual article.... does that make sense#i should sleep my eyes are heavy but im being tormented by concepts i want to execute#gotta apologize for all the arasawa posting as of late but ive been enabled#tbh on the lowest of keys i did post bout them on occasion in the past but. but now it's feel-speed ahead#twt has been driving me insane so i just need to hop aboard me other boat yk what im saying... please say you do i refuse to elaborate#for the sake of the people i wont but man if you know you know#anyways. the actual meat of this text post See All That Preamble Shit is meant to deter people. it is a warning#'i am bring cringe down here do not look. wait for it to be art so it's harder to ignore'#'snap i thought you didnt like sharing things if you were gonna do something with it' ok well the delusions are strong tonight#and im too tired to do anything and ill prob be too brain dead to do anything tomorrow LET ME SPEAK#ok cringe time. i just think jo gradually accepting physical affection can be something so personal and good SUE. me.#and when i say 'gradually' it will be ten years before he accepts it and even so it'll be quietly#i think by his 20's hes beyond flinching/wincing at random contact- or at the very least he's very good at suppressing the reflex to#more so if its not something like a handshake- like just casual contact- i imagine he's more confused than anything#i had friends who were obsessed with like. hugs and holding hands and those things always had me like ???#i imagine Same Shit for him ☠️ 'this isnt a bad thing but this isnt something im familiar with What Is???? this feels weird.'#im gonna make myself throw up thinking anymore about this. i be making these hardened yakuza men sweet and sentimental#twitter really is decaying my brain....#let me be worse. cause i hope arakawa introducing that sort of physical affection rubs off on jo. no where near the same level as arakawa#but itd be SOO funny if like.. jo starts walking close enough to occasionally bump shoulders with him#i hope when arakawa starts nodding off in the car and ''''accidentally''' lays his head on his shoulder he stops tensing up#heaven forbid jo even rests his cheek against arakawa. id be ill#Let Me Clutch My Pearls For This One i hope when they hold hands jo starts to hold arakawa's a lil tighter than he used to#just very /very/ little things like that. very little things that'll still make me insane I'M DELU-LU TONIGHT SORRRYYYYY#expect more of this bullshit but. in art form in the future. whether it writing or drawing idk i just need it#i need it injected right into my veins its my weakness your honor TAKE ME AWAY i AM guilty for making the scary gangsters cute#ok im pissing off fr now bye.
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⋆˚࿔ drabble!! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - b.c.



I have thoughts and need to get them out of my head before I go insane.
genre: PURE SMUT TBH!!! MINORS BE GONE!! I WILL BLOCK YOU!!!
pairing: bangchan x fem!reader
warnings: chokeholds (sue me okay), a bit of degradation, rough channie 🥴, reader is called a whore once, size kink if you squint
a/n: I wrote this on my phone because I needed it out of my head NYEOW, I'm going insane over him. dividers by @sister-lucifer
(this is what I was writing to if you wanna listen along 😛😛😛)
✩ thinking so much about Chan having such a horrible day, and I mean absolutely retched. Maybe had some arguments back and forth with staff over a track he was really proud of, a dance practice with small fuckups just out of his control (loose shoelaces tripping him, stumbling over his words, etc), maybe even something as simple as all his anxieties and worries on new tracks and performances have manifested into a boiling anger he can't contain.
✩ he wouldn't want to say anything he doesn't mean, or hurt anyone's feelings, so he wouldn't talk much throughout the day if he can help it. Simple nods and "mhm"s to just get through it. A few texts from you ping his phone every now and then, he's short with you but responds nonetheless. It would almost make him angrier that he can't shake the feeling, I feel.
✩ so he'd try to blow off some steam at the gym, he always hit it on the way home so you wouldn't find it out of the ordinary. But he'd stay a little longer than usual. Trying so, so hard to just shake the feeling off so he can come home to you and relax. But he can't. It sits on his chest worse than any of his anxieties ever could. So he cleans up the area he was using, throws his things into his duffle, and heads home.
✩ he'd show up back to your shared apartment and throw his duffle somewhere out of his sight. His shoes discarded by the door and keys dropped somewhere next to them. And then you'd walk out.
✩ "Hi baby!" So sweet and so kind, already in your pajamas, waiting for him to come home. "Long day?" It was an innocent ask of course, but it clicked a gear in place in his mind. All that anger seemed to quicken the blood rushing through his veins, if you listen close enough in the quiet you'd hear his heartbeat.
✩ no response but he's just stomping his way over to you, and his hands grab your face to smash your lips together. It's messy, teeth knocking every now and then, moving from upper to bottom lip, a bit of spit would connect you when he finally pulled away. Leaving you in a bit of a daze. But before you could question the absolutely hungry look in his eyes his lips would be on you again.
✩ his HUMONGOUS arms would work to pick you up while keeping your lips connected, your hands in his curls as his wrap under your thighs. And he's walking you back to your shared room and his skin is just fiery hot, and he's deepening the kiss while expertly navigating his way down the hall. thank god you walked out and left the door open, because as soon as he is even near your bed he's tossing you onto it and climbing on top of you.
✩ discarding his tank top as you're ridding of your own, his lips moving after to connect with your neck. You'd swear you felt him bite and lick his away along like a hungry animal playing with its prey. And his hands are on your hips, squeezing so hard to keep you in place that it would def leave bruises in the morning.
✩ before you can even register it, you're both without clothes and he's got you on all fours. pulling you down onto his mouth that is just devouring you like your his last meal on death row, like you held a cure for whatever is making him act this way, not like you'd want him to stop.
✩ "Bad day?" You'd question with rutting hips and your hands gripping his hair, he'd simply mumble against you and pull you down further. "Take it out- oh god- on me." You didn't have to tell him really, but it was more like giving him a green light for doing whatever he needed too to blow off the steam that was so pent up. It was rare this happened, but you ate it UP every time.
✩ moments later, after he'd rip at least two orgasms out of you, he's sinking himself into you. Pulling at your hips to meet his, forcing an arch out of you with a flat palm pressing down at the top of your spine. with no mercy does he rut into you, so rough it was physically moving you forward. Your cries and moans muffled with your cheek against the sheets, though you'd have probably been muffled regardless as his moans and groans and growls would be just a bit louder. Feral even.
✩ and when your moans alone weren't enough, he'd slow himself just enough to lean down and wrap his arm around your neck. keeping a hand still on your hip to keep your arch in place when he lifts you up from the bed in a chokehold and returns to his previous pace. Your moans now cut-off whines and groans from the pressure, just enough to slightly bring pressure to your airways but not enough to make you lose all your air. A delightful euphoria of floating and the feeling of his cock pumping into you, you swore in this position he was kissing your cervix in the most delicious way. feeling floaty and so full. so full. (pushing the bde Chris agenda ok).
✩ "fuckin' take it." He'd growl in your ear, and though his arm stays around your neck his hand moves to hold your chin. Relieving the pressure as you take in shaky gasps, keeping you perfectly in place. "Yea? You're my fucking whore, mine- letting me use you, huh? letting me fuck my anger into you?"
✩ he'd be so far gone that he's just mumbling out the nastiest shit he's ever said, and just abusing your pretty little cunt all he wants. And when his growls turn to whines and gasps and groans of his own, his hand reaches between your legs and quickly circles your puffy pretty clit. Silently begging you to cum with him.
✩ ugh and he'd cum so much too. letting you out of his hold halfway through, to lay back against the sheets, but still pushing you through your own orgasm. It would take him a bit to register he's real again before he's pulling out and walking to grab things to clean you up, water, a snack, the works.
✩ "Better?" You'd incoherently mumble after, when you're all laid up together. Snuggled close and naked and safe and warm.
✩ "Mm. Sorry if I was too rough." He'd mumble back, pushing some hair behind your ear before promising to tell you what was bothering him first thing in the morning. But of course you never mind him that way, if you can help him.
✩ he'd apologize PROFUSELY in the morning when he notices your bruised hips and a few red marks of teeth on your neck. Doing his best to mend you. Draw you a bath. Snuggle you as soon as he gets home from the studio. Apologize again. And again. And one more time for good measure. cuz he's just too sweet, and even if he was pent up and needed to channel his anger in a (proactive) different way he could never actually hurt you and he'd feel awful if he ever did. Making sure you feel loved in every way he can in the following days. Cuz he's Channie and an absolute angel, who just loves a rough night every now and again. 😜
EEP KQJDJSNF there's my first spicy drabble, I just needed this out of my fucking head OMG. Need him to chokehold me so BAD KADJNDNF. this is probably a mess because I was trying to get a vision across without turning this into a 7k word fic okay 😭😭. Lemme know if y'all want more of this from meeee by commenting, liking, reposting!! Theenk yewwww ❤️✨🤞🏻
taglist: @possum-playground (taglist is open! Feel free to ask to be added to my general one or the one for my Bangchan series!! or if you'd like to only be added for non-spicy/spicy-only posts!)
#Spotify#eevenus 💌🧸✨#vix's rambles <3#stray kids#bang chan#skz#christopher bang#bangchan#bangchan stray kids#bangchan smut#stray kids smut#bangchan x reader#bang chan smut#chan smut#skz smut#smut#kpop smut#my fics
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Bat-Boys in Bed
I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me
Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.
He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.
I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.
Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.
Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”
I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.
He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.
Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.
He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.
I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.
Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.
Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.
I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).
This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.
Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.
You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.
Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.
Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.
Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.
I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.
That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.
Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!
Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.
#yandere damian wayne#damian wayne#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x plus size reader#damian wayne x you#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x female reader#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x female!reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x oc#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x you
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roll the dice - ft. sero hanta

pairing: sero hanta x roommate!reader
summary: It's Valentine's Day and Sero does his best to keep his horny thoughts to himself. He doesn't succeed.
cws: smut mdni, face sitting, sero hanta is a pussy-eating KING, dirty talk
based on this prompt list

"Wow," Sero whistles, while you teeter on one heel and hop into the other. That dress hugs every inch of you. "Someone’s lookin’ good. Hot date?"
You laugh, and fuck, he’s such an idiot, because the sound travels straight to his dick. He adjusts himself as subtly as he can and goes back to cooking dinner.
"Something like that.” You swipe on lip gloss in the hallway mirror. "He’s a coworker. I might have mentioned him?"
You’ve mentioned him 17 times. Not like Sero’s counting.
"Make sure he treats you right," is all he says instead, doing his best to ignore the cute little blush tearing across your face as you duck out the door.
Alone on Valentine’s Day, he thinks ruefully, settling his long frame on the couch. Alone on Valentine’s Day with a raging hot case of let-me-fuck-you-right-now for his roommate.
He should have turned down being your roommate the minute he saw you on Denki’s phone. If he had, he wouldn’t be this jealous of some random shithead taking you out for Valentine’s Day.
He considers texting Denki just to have someone to commiserate with, but the guy is probably doing his best to woo Jiro and doesn’t need the distraction.
He sparks up a joint and turns on 13 Going on 30 (so he’s a rom-com guy, sue him), trying not to think about how much better this night would be if you were here.
The door clicks a half hour later, followed by the rap of your heels on the ground. You trudge into the room and slump on the couch right next to him.
“He didn’t even show up,” you whisper into the side of his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He feels a few tears hit his collarbone.
Sero Hanta considers himself a pretty even-keeled type of guy, but wanting to punch this dick’s lights' outs shoots to the top of his to-do list.
“Oh honey, what a fuckin’ dickhole.” His hands tighten on your waist. “Doesn’t deserve someone like you, anyway.”
He probably shouldn’t say that, not when he’s rubbing circles on your hip through the material of your dress, the scorching heat of your body against his impossible to ignore. But he's been thinking it for months now, all of his own attempts at dating tossed to the wayside when he realized he just preferred coming home to you.
“No?” You pull away and delicately wipe away unshed tears. He doesn't know why he finds it so cute, this innate desire to preserve what's left of your mascara. “Who does deserve me, Hanta?”
You grab the joint and drag and his mind goes fuzzy. You’ve never outright called him on it like this before.
“Maybe I do angel, ya ever think of that?”
“Yeah?” There’s that megawatt smile of yours, kicking him in the teeth. “You think of me like that, too?”
It’s new territory for the both of you, admitting to the attraction that Sero realizes has been simmering for weeks.
“Yeah. I think of you all the time.” He cups your face and cocks his head. "We doin' this? You gonna let me show you how I'd treat ya on Valentine's Day?"
You roll your eyes at him affectionately. "Cheesy bastard."
He cuts off your laugh with the press of his mouth.
Sero's not normally one to wax poetic, but something about the way your body instantly sinks into his makes his heart lurch. You kiss him like you've been spending your whole life studying how to do it, and it drives him absolutely insane.
"Knew we'd be good together," he says, grinding the curve of his cock into the cleft between your thighs. "Feel how hard I already am, baby? Just from one little kiss."
You groan into his mouth and start pawing at his clothes.
"I know, I know, want you naked too. Don't fuckin' pout, I think you'll like the idea." He repositions the two of you with him lying down on the couch, you straddling his hips. "Remember when you said you've never sat on a guy's face?"
Your eyes darken with excitement. "I remember."
"What if we change that?" He strokes his thumb under the band of your dress, shimmying it over your hips. The pretty red lace covering your pussy makes his breath catch. "Because you know what's gonna happen if we don't?"
He traces the folds of your pussy through your underwear with the pads of his fingers.
"I'm gonna get inside this perfect fuckin' pussy and embarrass myself. Probably come after two pumps like an idiot because she's just so fucking sweet." He pulls your panties down and drags you up to his face. He catches the little whine of insecurity in your throat at the position.
Your pussy is swollen and begging for attention, arousal clinging to your lips like dew.
"Take a fuckin’ seat, baby, ya think I’ve never done this before?"
He molds his hands around the meat of your hips and thighs, and then Sero feasts, sucking and grinding his chin and nose and tongue up into your cunt. You wail and fall forward, holding yourself steady on the arm of the couch. He doesn't care if he has to hold you up himself; he's in heaven between your thighs, the taste and scent of you all he can fucking think about.
You cum quickly, gasping and shuddering above him as he drinks down your orgasm like fucking water.
"Felt good, didn't it?" he prods, biting your inner thigh and soothing it with a kiss. Your shaky nod makes him grin.
Sero sits backs up with you in his lap, wiping the back of his mouth with a forearm and licking at his lips like a dog. He hopes he smells like you for hours.
Black streaks of mascara run under your lashes. He swipes them away with the back of his thumb. "Sorry honey. You worked hard on this makeup, huh? And I'm just making you cry it off."
It's your turn to cut him off with a kiss.

ahhhhh i've written for him ONCE i hope i did him justice
#sugarwarachanwrites#sero hanta#sero x reader#sero hanta x reader#sero hanta smut#hanta sero#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bnha smut#mha smut#boku no hero academia#bnha#sero x you
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Star Wars Age Swap/Master-Apprentice Swap but Anakin is still a complete dumpster fire of a Master so young Obi-Wan basically treats him as a How-Not-To-Do-It section of the How-To-Jedi manual and ends up honing his diplomacy skills convincing Anakin to let him manage all the "boring bits" like paperwork, research and logistics in order to keep clones from being thrown into the meat grinder of Anakin's more insane plans. He gets so good at this that he inadvertently ends up making Anakin a figurehead within his own command.
Anakin: *Proposes some wildly bad strategy with zero stealth, high potential body count and low rewards*
Obi-Wan, blank faced: Very good, Master. We shall probably need an ace pilot to reconnoiter the battlefield beforehand just to make sure intelligence is up to date.
Anakin: One of the clone pilots can-
Obi-Wan, a very perceptive fourteen-year-old: I heard that Senator Amidala in attending a peace conference in the next quadrant over, maybe you could also brief her on the... war... progress, while I handle the paperwork again.
Anakin: Good thinking Padawan, one day you'll be as good a knight as I am! *leaves a contra-trail out the door*
Obi-Wan:
Clone Bridge Crew:
Clone Commander:
Obi-Wan: *makes a theatrical sounding beep and dramatically holds up his comm to his ears for 0.00005 seconds*
Obi-Wan, bald-faced lying: Okay, we've just got some... uh, new intelligence so unfortunately, we're not going to be able to use Master Skywalker's, ahem, plan.
Obi-Wan: So, artillery supply is here, main storage for their fighters is here, main ports for their supply lines are here and here. Small infil squads with demolition expertise should be able to take out everything except the fighter hanger and the destroyer can orbitally bomb that provided a couple of our pilots can take out the satellite sensory array before we drop into atmosphere right out of hyperspace. If we're fast and coordinate we should be able to take out all four simultaneously. If we're really efficient we should be able to take the capital and sue for peace within twelve hours before the General is done with his assignat-uh, briefing. Any questions?
Clone Commander, blank faced: No, Commander.
Plo Koon, half a million light years away: Did anyone else just feel a wave of relieved THANK THE FORCE hit the galaxy like a tsunami, or is it just me?
#star wars#obi wan kenobi#anakin skywalker#anti anakin skywalker#some very very relieved clones#tcw#the clone wars
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one of your girls / ln4, part two
lando norrisxfem!reader
no use of y/n, as always.
part one
a/n ⋯ I LIED IT'S COMING OUT NOW!!! i sat down for 'bout four hours after work and a family dinner to knock this the fuck OUTTTT. it's shorter than i expected, but this was the best way i could wrap up this supposed 'oneshot'. i hope you all enjoy it. and remember, it is up to YOU for what you are wearing, clothes are intentionally vaguely described for your own viewing pleasure. and tbh, i did not proof read this...don't sue me!!! I JUST WAnted it out asap for everyone@!!! pls don't let it flop!!!
warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, drunk hookup, choking (slight), p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, overstimulation, feral lando. sickeningly in love lando, possession, jealousy.
wc ⋯ 13.7k (unedited!)
he hadn’t heard from you in weeks. weeks. it was driving him fucking insane. he didn’t know that the girl would come back, he didn’t know she would be a bitch, and he certainly didn’t know you would react that way. to his ultimate surprise, it was a comfort knowing that you did care. however sick and twisted it was, it told him without using your words, that you wanted something.
things had been left unsaid between the pair of you for a long time. too long. he was never in the business of guessing your feelings, assuming that you felt one way or another about him. and neither were you. both of you were too fucking stubborn for your own good. neither of you could see what was right in front of you–
each other.
and that was the worst part for lando. it had him pushing himself harder. faster. to be better to perhaps catch your attention. to win you back through his ability to race. but you didn’t care about that. you didn’t care about how fast he drove his car, didn’t care about the number of podiums he got. you cared about him. but you never let the words fall upon his ears, and that was your first mistake.
it was the weekend in spain. warm, but not too humid, you traveled with alexandra and the rest of the ferrari hospitality team. you had gotten close to carlos’ girlfriend, rebecca, as well. they were both great company and more times than not, lando had slipped from your mind completely.
but not for him.
he was a mess. a wreck without you. guilt consumed him night and day, and he would feel eternally wrought with what could have been. he’s called you, texted you, even had oscar reach out to you, but there was nothing but radio silence and the bolded words ‘read’ beneath his sent messages. it hurt more knowing that you saw him suffering and did nothing about it.
but he deserved it. he deserved this treatment. he wasn’t going to fight you. he would roll over, belly up like a good boy for you. pay attention to me, his actions would scream. look in my direction. but you didn’t even view his stories on social media anymore. didn’t even like his posts.
the british driver would be found pacing back and forth, staring hunchback at his phone. oscar would watch him from across the room, legs dangling from the papaya barstool. he hated to see lando this way, but he knew what he did. lando was honest with oscar, hoping to maybe seek advice in his own girlfriend. but lily simply shrugged her shoulders and her expression said enough.
you did this to yourself.
but little did you know is that he threw that girl out the moment you left. okay, not literally, but in ever metaphoric way possible. he never contacted her again. he hadn’t contacted any girl, in fact, these past few weeks. he would be isolated with his PR team at every occasion, refusing to even entertain the thought of hitting up a new girl.
his loyalty to you was suddenly unwavering, but it was too late.
“mate,” oscar said from where he sat. lando didn’t look up, just hummed, staring at your last text to him.
‘you’re too sweet,’
too sweet. what would you say now? you had replied to a set of merchandise he saved for you, special edition for miami’s grand prix, and that had been it. from you. he had to scroll down through the text chain to reach the bottom. his endless apologies, desperate words, and more apologies. he felt nauseous. sick that he ever treated you that way.
his favorite girl. his girl.
“she’s here.”
what?
lando’s head snapped up, looking frantically around. but there was no sign of you.
“with alexandra. ferrari paddock.” oscar gestured his phone towards lando. he snatched it from him, letting his eyes fly across the photo. it was a picture of you, rebecca, and alexandra. posted on alexandra’s instagram story.
you looked…
happy.
he…
he didn’t know why he was upset by that. he wanted you to feel the same level of anger, sadness, distress, even. but here you were– looking absolutely beautiful with your bright smile. so fucking beautiful. he remembers he was there when you picked out that top. and god, he was right, it’s meant for you.
lando threw oscar’s phone back at him, and knew this would be a long fucking weekend.
barcelona’s air had been clean. much cleaner than miami, new york. the decor of the paddock, too, had you thinking and trailing your fingers over the textures. you had done that more– feeling the things around you. you used to do that with lando. but now he was gone, and you had to suffice to other obscurities to lay your fingers upon.
gone. the word echoed in the chasm of your mind. gone. you didn’t realize the depth of lando’s absence would impact you this much, but that had been a mistake on your part. clearly. an oversight of your intimate relationship. that, eventually, it would end. it would end in flames, crash and burn, and ultimately never recover. as much as you thought, anyways.
you heard your name being called from the other side of the couch. you glanced up.
rebecca stared at you expectedly.
“sorry,” you breathed. “what did you say?”
rebecca huffed, but repeated herself regardless. “i said that i have a friend with me i want you to meet.” you raised your brows quizzically. “i think you’ll like him.”
him? him? oh, fuck, here we go.
as much as you wanted to breeze past what happened in lando’s monaco apartment, you couldn’t. your feelings, as heavy as they were, weighed you down into the abyss of lando norris’ wellbeing.
you didn’t sleep with anyone since him. you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. it didn’t feel right, and your own attempt at an orgasm was ultimately futile.
but you said nothing when rebecca turned, pulling a man from conversation with carlos. he looked confused, but let his eyes settle on you. he relaxed.
he was a handsome chap. dark hair, dark eyes. tanned skin. fit. he had a grecian nose, one that was slim and curved. not like lando’s, you thought, but brought yourself down to earth and stood. you greeted him with two kisses on the cheek, and his name was raphael.
“so you are…” his spanish accent was thick and attractive. you couldn’t deny that. “friends with rebecca?”
“that’s right.” you nodded, bringing a bottle of water to your lips to cool down. “you, as well?”
he shrugged, giving you a ‘so-so’ hand gesture. “carlos, really,” you let out a soft ‘ahh’ and soon realized, too, that this would be a long fucking weekend.
the day of free practices came and went. so did your time with raphael. he wasn’t a bad conversationalist whatsoever, you were simply not interested. but you made a promise to rebecca this weekend that you would try. try and branch out instead of looking insatiably bored on live television. she was right. you needed to get over this and move on, because lando must’ve, right? he must’ve slept with that girl, given the fact that he didn’t go after you.
did you expect him to?
you weren’t sure. you weren’t fucking sure of anything. you weren’t a mindreader for fucks sake. but you saw his text messages. all of them. you made yourself sick with despair every night, rereading them to yourself like the fucking bible. what did you expect him to do for you? crucify himself? maybe. just maybe.
as you were walking down the pit lane with alexandra at your side, you felt the wafting air of an oncoming storm of people. you glanced around, but alexandra was the one to point it out.
“uh oh.”
the papaya suits could be seen from anywhere. it’s not like they were subtle.
you bristled and stood up straight. fuck, okay. this was happening. he’s walking this way. was he coming toward you? no, don’t be so foolish. but you hoped that he would.
lando was approaching you, but his eyes were set forward. but when you weren’t bothering to look, he had been staring at you the entire way here. he could spot you from miles away with your countenance, your undying beauty.
but he didn’t stop to look at you.
you didn’t either.
but your hands–
god your hands
they brushed past one another when he swept past your shoulder. his pinky desperately latching to yours before you let him go. you gasped lowly and he heard it, his ears twitching with the sound. but he didn’t stop. he couldn’t.
if he stopped to turn, he would kiss you out in the open.
you dared him to.
but you both kept on your way, and the interaction had you fuming. why can’t he care to show up? texts, calls, whatever, didn’t compare to the ability to show up. you knew he was in monaco. you knew exactly when he was there. it wasn’t a fucking secret.
fuck him.
you didn’t care if you were being a brat. you knew what you put at stake, but you opened your heart to him. and you believed that maybe, just maybe, if that girl hadn’t interrupted, the two of you would be in a very different situation. maybe. but you didn’t let that thought linger. you couldn’t.
“what was that?” alexandra whispered to you as you both kept walking.
“nothing.”
and that’s what you promised yourself it to be. nothing. when in reality, it had been everything. lando had seen you, spotted you from what felt like a mile away with a man lingering at your side. fuck. reality set in for him that you were looking. you were looking elsewhere from him for companionship. it made him fucking sick to his stomach, and he knew that had to change. he was a man on a mission now, a conqueror ready to pillage.
it was the evening when you found yourself locked away in your hotel room. it was well past ten o’clock, and you were exhausted form today. alexandra had invited you out, but you just couldn’t bring yourself. rebecca prodded away at you, too, insisting that you and raphael hit it off today. he said that he wanted to see you again.
you had thought about it. you really did.
but you couldn’t.
you’d been sucked into a tv melodrama in your hotel room when you felt your phone vibrate. someone was calling you.
you checked the time and raised a brow, lifting your phone to see the all-too-familiar contact card lighting up your face in the ambient lighting of the room.
lando
you hesitated.
suddenly your heart was racing, beating rapidly against the cage of your chest, and you felt like a prisoner to your anxiety. you felt it drop to your stomach, feeling queasy, but hit ‘answer call’ anyways. you lifted your phone to your ear, and let out a soft breath.
“what?”
your words were bitter, but quiet in the solitude of your room.
“didn’t think you’d answer,” came his raspy voice from the other end. he was breathless, as if he had been running. or fucking some girl. fuck you, you wanted to bite out, but held your tongue.
“neither did i.”
that earned you a cheeky laugh from him. he hesitated, too, before breathing. “are you at your hotel?”
you were confused by the question. “yes.”
“can i see you?”
his words hit you hard. you fell back against the pillows of your bed, hand coming to rest over your forehead. you sighed with a grumble. “i don’t think that’s a good idea.”
you could practically feel him wince through the phone.
“please.”
fuck him and his soft words. his desperate tone, the pity that you felt for him grew. the fact of the matter flew from your head, disappearing with a singular plead from his cracked vocals. he sounded honest. that he truly wanted to see you, and a small part of you wished to reconcile whatever was happening between the two of you. you were not a woman of small touches– you wanted it all, or nothing.
“okay.”
lando cleared his throat, choking on his breath, exhibiting his initial shock. “i– okay, okay, what room are you in?”
“610.”
he hung up before you could let out a breath. your phone fell onto your nightwear– a simple baggy shirt and spandex. they were what kept you most comfortable at night.
your hands raked over your face, pulling your eyelids with it. what were you doing? engaging with him, talking with him over the phone. the long text chains of read messages you had banished him to sat idly on your screen, staring you down with an ambivalence that you quivered before. was this a mistake? should you just pretend you’re–
there was a knock at your door seconds into your thoughts.
you jumped from your bed, hands raking through your hair. how did he get here so fucking quick? you scrambled around your room, checking yourself in any reflection you could find. fuck, why were you so nervous? how could he possibly make you so riddled with anxiety in a matter of seconds? your heart was in overdrive once again, and you wondered just how much you could take.
he said your name through the door. weak, pining. you dropped the brush you grabbed in the bathroom instantly, feet soaring over the hardwood floor to open it. when you did, you were face to face with the british driver.
he wasn’t drunk. that’s a first. the thought crossed your mind only briefly, thinking that you were just a booty call in the late hours of the night. it wouldn’t be the first time.
lando was disheveled, messy, and the white shirt he wore was ruffled. upon his head was a mclaren hat, concealing his identity from the outside. most importantly, though, that you noticed was how his face was glazed in a sheath of sweat. you cocked a brow at him.
“did you run here?”
lando shrugged. it felt, in that moment, that things were normal between you two. that all of this…shit washed over for just a second. you felt at home. comfortable. but you cleared your throat and let him walk in, shutting the door behind you.
you didn’t want to speak to him here. not where he could see your laundry everywhere, pairs of underwear sprawled around so he’d get distracted. not that you expected to fuck him here, though the thought didn’t upset you. fuck, you were in deep.
you brushed past him, leading him to the small terrace just outside your bedroom. you slid the door open and leaned your back against the railing. he slid the door shut behind the two of you, and he took a seat in one of the wooden picnic chairs. he gawked at you, openly, letting his eyes run over your bare legs beneath the oversized shirt.
“don’t do that.” you said, breaking the silence between you two. you seemed to rip him out of his dreamscape with a clearing of his throat.
“do what?” he feigned innocence. though he knew what he was doing. he missed you, lest he verbalize that.
“look at me,” you breathed, “like that.”
his brow lifted, still playing dumb. dumb, as if he didn’t want to take you over this railing, ask you to be his.
“like what?”
you scoffed.
“like you’re in love with me.”
ouch. your words bit harder than he thought they would, blood gushing from an open wound in his heart. he let your words settle before he leaned back in the chair, legs spreading as he fiddled with the skin of his thumbs.
“i wanted to see you.”
“i know,” you answered. “you saw me. now what?”
lando shook his head. “don’t do that.” please don’t do that he wanted to say.
“do what?” it was your turn to play dumb. your turn to pretend that you weren’t doing the same thing. pushing him away was the easiest way to deal with all of your problems.
“act so cold.” he turned his head away from you, glancing over towards the lights of the city. “giving me frostbite.”
“lando, what–”
“i’m sorry.”
huh? you froze, eyes widening as you straightened upright. did you hear him correctly? it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve heard an apology. but this was a first to hear it in person, not in begging text messages half way across the world.
“what–?”
“for everything. i’m sorry.” his head fell to his hands as he leaned over, gripping at the curls atop his head. you felt the same urge creeping up your spine, your hands feeling empty. you shifted on your feet, stepping a foot closer.
“why now?”
he perked up, wondering what you meant.
“why, now, are you sorry?”
he was speechless. unable to form the words that could answer such a vague question. but you had an idea, so you thought you’d share.
“because i was with someone?” raphael. you know that he saw the two of you talking. chatting. maybe an occasional giggle so you could keep him quiet for the rest of the free practices.
lando began to shake his head. “no, no–”
“really?”
you stepped into his space, wedging yourself between his thighs. he stared up at you, lost in the reflection of your eyes beneath the starlit sky. his hands found your hips and you let him keep them there, at least for the moment.
“really.” he promised you. head leaning forward to rest on your stomach. you felt the perch of his nose dig into your skin. your head leaned back, taking a large breath, feeling tears begin to well.
“what do you want, then?” you said with a shaky breath.
you felt his hands tense against your hips.
“i don’t know.” his words were muffled, but you could make them out. it shattered you to hear the creak in his voice, but it hurt even more knowing that he didn’t know. you wanted something with him. a relationship. but he didn’t feel the same.
your fingers cupped his face, bringing him to look at you. “that’s it, then, huh?” your voice was dangerously soft.
he was confused. again.
“that’s all i’ll be?” he still didn’t catch on, too busy staring at your flushed face, reddened eyes. he wanted to fix it– take back his words. he’d do anything to reverse time. would do anything to revoke the words that spilled from your pretty lips.
“one of your girls.”
you pushed him away, walking back to the railing with your back turned. he said your name over and over. you ignored him.
“i think,” you said, sucking in a tight breath to calm the storm of emotions that were threatening to raise hell. “that you should go.”
“no, no–” lando stood, coming to wrap his arms around you, but you turned, holding up your hand to stop your advances.
“we knew this would happen one day, didn’t we?” you reaffirmed, steadying your breaths the best that you could. but it was difficult. nothing about this was easy. but it had to be done. you were done waiting. done pining for someone that did not feel the same. did not burn the same.
lando breathed your name again. you shook your head. “no. no. we can’t–” you choked on your tears. it felt hard to breathe. “i can’t keep waiting for you.”
lando’s own eyes filled with tears. it felt like a breakup, when you two were clearly never together. you made that clear enough, and he obeyed, just wishing to feel your skin beneath his fingers, fall asleep to your heart beat. so why did he say he didn’t know? fuck, he’s such an asshole. he couldn’t take back his words now, could he?
he tried to explain. words stumbled from his lips, nervous and riling with anxiety, but you would hear none of it. you simply brushed past him and into your room, opening the door from your hotel room for him. you said nothing else, tears sliding down your cheeks, lip caught between your teeth.
“please,” he begged one last time. he had succumbed to his tears, too, cheeks flushed and lip wet. his hands trembled as he made one last attempt to cup your face. you let him.
your foreheads met in both desperation and exhaustion. here, it felt like time stopped. the two of you in sync with your racing hearts, trembling hands, voracious blood churning through your veins. you looked up at him through your wet lashes and he met your gaze. it only had you sobbing harder.
he wiped the tears from your cheeks.
“please,” he said your name on his trembling tongue. the sound had your knees trembling, but you resisted. you had to. you couldn’t keep doing this anymore. there was a life out there, waiting for you to take hold of. “don’t make me go.”
you let out a shaky breath, shaking your head.
“you have to.”
lando hiccuped. his fingers were still shaking, and he finally accepted your rejection. though he supposed he signified it first. that was his first mistake. he couldn’t take back his words without sounding like a dick, so he was trapped. trapped utterly in this pit of mayhem.
he exited your hotel room with his tail between his legs. defeated.
you shut the door behind him and slumped against it, your back sliding down until you hit the floor. your head fell into your hands as you attempted to stifle your sobs.
little did you know, that he had done the same thing, fallen limp against your hotel room door. your sobs were in unison as you began to unravel, whilst he coiled into knots. forever entwined amidst your inability to be vulnerable with one another. toilsome, but ultimately true.
you didn’t know how long you stayed there. he didn’t know how long he stayed there. the two of you stayed in parallel behind a closed door, mimicking each other’s beating heart, for you knew that they would never be one.
when you woke, you were still slumped against the door. you stood, stretching out your painfully aching muscles, arched your back, twisted your neck. your eyes were swollen raw with your epidemic of tears the night prior, and you rubbed the crust away. the memories flooded through you. lando was here. he was here, and you had to haul his ass out.
you thought he was going to kiss you.
but he didn’t. your lips would remain untouched by his own.
your fingers ghosted over your mouth, shivering at the memory of him so close to you. you could feel his breath fanning over your face– the heaving, desperate puffs of air– and he felt yours, too, with the same amount of anxiety. you were a wreck before him, and he was too.
in no time you found your phone, grimacing at your battery, and the plethora of texts from rebecca and alexandra. it was still early in the morning so you had time to pull yourself together, but you had a big day with them today. qualifying was happening, and rebecca had set you up.
she set you up with raphael for the day. you knew she meant the best. and maybe it was. this was your opportunity to uphold your promise– to move on. you had to, or else you would be strung dry for the remainder of your life, with dreary hopes and aimless romantics. you would not drown in the ocean of lando norris, despite how cumbersome he gripped on your ankles.
you fixed yourself for the day. showering quickly, styling your hair to your liking. you threw on a formal chic outfit, perhaps trying a bit hard today to catch raphael’s eye– or someone else’s, by chance. but you left the unattainable at the back of your mind today, heart far too raw to be ripped open again.
you would stick with something safe. someone safe. raphael was your answer in the short term. you were sick of playing the long game, bested to your knees in the face of whatever conspired between you and the british driver. you were convinced it was for the best. it had to be. these emotions couldn’t be for nothing.
it couldn’t be for nothing.
when you arrived to the track that morning, alexandra was quick to meet your side. she had an impenetrable amount of questions for you, yearning for your answers, but you only gave her a brief overview.
“we’re done,” you said as you walked through the pit lane. “he doesn’t want me like that.”
she was clearly taken back. her hand flew over her heart, obviously distressed for you. you admired her care for you. you would do the same for her. “really?”
you nodded, gulping down the lump in your throat that was tempting to choke you.
“it’s okay.” you reaffirmed her. she made a move to speak over you, console you to the highest degree, but you stopped her. “i’m fine. swear. let’s have a good day, shall we?” you plastered on a fake smile towards her, but you knew she saw through you. but she would accept this for now when you were approached by carlos, rebecca, and raphael.
you smiled brighter when raphael came to kiss both your cheeks. you gripped his bicep. engaging in conversation with him felt easier today, and you weren’t begging for an out. you’d catch rebecca’s eye here and there, and she glowed with happiness. if you weren’t doing this for yourself, you could at least say that you were doing it for her.
raphael was not a bad man whatsoever. he smelled good, had good hygiene, and had a glowing smile. but he didn’t smell the same. didn’t have the same musk. didn’t have the harsh pricks of a stubble that burned into the skin of your neck.
fuck. you missed the feeling of that stubble.
you clung to raphael’s side for the rest of the day, a burning itch between your thighs undoing the morals of your mind. if you wanted to get over lando, you’d have to truly get over him.
it was never a ‘string’s attached’ relationship, was it? you were free to fuck whoever you want, when you want. so why would it be so bad if you wished to see raphael bend down for you?
or you wanted someone else, but raphael was the closest you’d get.
the rest of the day went by smoothly. for you, at least, but not for lando.
he had come into the mclaren paddock looking absolutely awry. his hair messy, eyes dreary with sleep and emotion, whereas you…you looked beautiful. untouched by your emotions from the night before. so much so that you were cuddled against that same fucking dude, which had lando’s blood bursting to life.
you were across in the pitlane observing the car, arms folded over your chest. that fucking guy’s hand rested on the upper part of your back, rolling soft circles with the pads of his fingers. he clenched the rim of his helmet in his hands. his teeth grinded inside his mouth, sawing down the enamel. for you, he’d have no teeth. for you were the only world he wished to bite, and even then you starved him of it.
“y’alright, mate?” oscar’s voice interrupted his thoughts. lando broke his stare from the pair of you, ripping his eyes away.
but you had turned, then, and let your eyes linger on his back.
“fine.”
that evening was no different than any other. for lando, at least, he succumbed to his hotel room for the night. he had no interest in going out. if he saw you with that spanish prick, he’d only lose himself even more. the guilt of losing you had been overturning, divulging into what a psychologist would declare as madness.
but you were the opposite. you were out on the town, clubbing with rebecca and raphael. carlos was there, too, but was saving his energy for the race tomorrow. he held no drink in his hand, but you did. you were downing shot after shot.
you were swaying your hips, grinding against raphael with a steady pace. he was into it. his dick was aggressively hard against the back side of your dress, but you weren’t scared by it. it enticed you further, in fact, and had you drawing new sensations of pleasure through you.
finally, you thought, a break from him. from lando. but the voices echoed inside the back of your mind. it bounced off the walls; he couldn’t compare.
lando would have his hands drawing up the sides of your body. fingertips scathing the fabric of your dress, teasing touches that would have you writhing in his hold, desperate for him to fuck you in the back.
lando would have his face nuzzled into your neck whispering bittersweet praises into your ear. he’d squeeze your hips with anticipation as the both of you would move in sync. always in sync. the two of you were one on the dance floor, one when you fucked one another senseless in your less than private moments. when he was particularly desperate for your touch, he’d go as far as taking you in the bathrooms at any club. he had no shame; not when it came to you.
but raphael was tame. and maybe you appreciated tame. maybe this was a new start for you. fresh and free of any unknowns.
“you’re beautiful, hermosa.” he would whisper to you, body trying its best to keep up with you. he did, for the most part, but you moved to your own beat. lando would know. he knew every inch of you. were you really prepared to be strangers?
you spun around in raphael’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck. you offered him a cheeky smile. this wasn’t you. “and you’re handsome!” it was alcohol talking. you would never be seen so exuberant. not like this.
it had raphael laughing, though, and it was enough for him to take you back to his place.
the entire way back to his place you were giggling, latching onto his tanned skin. his hair was soft, sheen, and luscious. your hands never got lost in the strands of his hair– it was too combed, not curly enough. nothing was curly enough.
and then he had you against the wall of his flat. your hands pinned against your head, and he met your lips with his. fuck, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been kissed. but the worst part about all of it was–
you hated it.
you tugged his head down to your neck, letting him work the sensitive skin with his tongue. your lips felt hot. blistering with a heat you haven’t felt in a long time. it felt…it felt…
raphael’s tongue found the meeting part of your underwear and skin, “can i?” he asked with a timid voice. you let out a soft moan and nodded. he tugged the fabric down, your dress still hanging off your body. you didn’t even remember if he left kisses along your neck, your breasts, you guessed his lips weren’t that memorable.
and then his tongue was against your slit. you weren’t wet enough. clearly. you could feel the chapped parts of your cunt, disappointed in your body that you couldn’t ‘get it up’ for him. whereas he was practically jacking off in his pants, you were left like a desert. it wouldn’t be like this with lando.
he explored your cunt with his tongue, narrowly dodging your clit ever so slightly. he thought your noises of pleasure were noises of distress, so he avoided touching your clit as much as possible. so he tongued you through and through, until you began to become irritated.
you couldn’t even feel tight in your stomach. the feeling couldn’t be outmatched. maybe your sexdrive had died. maybe you could never cum ever again. this was to be your fate– dry and lonely. fuck. you let your head fall back against the wall, which he took as a good sign, and kept going. instead, you threaded your hands through his hair, rolling your eyes.
you let out a few soft, faked moans. you felt guilty– of course you did– but apparently it was an olympic sport to make you cum. he certainly wouldn’t make the playoffs.
after another minute of this, you were fed up.
you tightened your cunt on command, which took a lot of fucking work, thank you, and began to heighten the sound of your moans. the award for best fake orgasm goes to: you!!! you surged forward to grip onto his shoulders, even pretending to be shaking.
you deserved an oscar.
“didn’t think i was that good.”
an egot, maybe.
you let out a soft sigh, a faked chuckle, and let him lead you to his bedroom. he fell atop of you on your back, holding himself up with the strength of his forearms. he dipped his hand down, scathing over your irritated cunt. you gasped at his hand finding your slit once again, drenched in only his spit, and without warning slipped a finger inside of you.
your mouth hung open, lurching at the sudden contact. you felt sinched beneath his weight, taught with tension. he even curled his finger inside of you. he grazed your bundle of nerves that had your squirming. squirming for more pressure. he kept hitting your spot until he pulled away. you looked confused at first, wondering where exactly he was going.
and…then he was pulling his cock out. fuck. you really weren’t going to win here, tonight, were you? not in the slightest, it seemed. he looked down at you with a knowing smirk. the same one where he thought you came beneath his tongue.
he thought you came.
fuck!
“are you ready?” he asked when his cock pushed against the skin of your lower belly. he was a good size, you admit, but you had a inkling that you weren’t going to find a sweet release with his hands. you nodded, forgetting your manners, but raphael said nothing.
he pushed into you with a discerning pace. you scrunched your nose out of his eyesight. he was too busy fucking himself into your pussy. he couldn’t even open his eyes to look at you. and, for the record, he didn’t use a condom. dick. at least you had a form of a contraceptive. you’d make sure not to let him finish inside you. that’s for fucking sure.
he slid in and out of you with the lubrication of his spit and his own precum. you didn’t move. you laid there, bored, faking a moan and gasp here and there.
the whole time you thought about someone else. and you didn’t feel guilty about it. you were able to find yourself comforted by the dreaming thought of lando’s voice in your ear. the phantom touch of his stubble. the amount of moles that you could count on his face.
with a grunt, you felt raphael push off of you, cumming onto his own sheets. he laid there, panting, and you…”did the same.”
he turned to face you, smile on his face. “did you finish?”
you nodded with an itching smile. he seemed triumphant. though you couldn’t be drier than a haystack.
your exit from his flat quickly. it’s not like he even took your dress off. he insisted that you stayed, but you retorted that you had an early morning with alexandra. whether or not that's true, you didn’t seem to care. he didn’t fight your statement and seamlessly let you go, clearly too exhausted from his evening to even see you out the door.
you hailed a cab from your hotel shamefully. you felt icky. your lip sneered when you caught a cab and tipped the driver once you arrived back. the elevator ride never seemed so tantalizingly long.
when you swiped into your room, you threw your belongings on your bed and turned on a hot shower. while you waited for the water to heat, you opened your phone.
no messages from lando.
did you expect any?
maybe.
you decided to call him. you didn’t fucking care. it was the alcohol talking.
ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…
no answer.
you left a voicemail.
“heeyyy…!!” you surged into the phone as you began to untangle your dress from your body. “i–uh, i dunno i just…wanted to call you… because i…” you swore under your breath as you couldn’t get a strap off. “sorry i…” you stuttered, laughing to yourself. “i think i miss you, lan.”
and then you hung up, singing yourself into the shower. the hot water panned over your body, fingers trailing over the mounds of your breasts. the soft skin of your abdomen.
but with your whimsy, came a price.
lando was there. he just didn’t answer your call. he had been awake, wondering what you were doing, since you were absent on almost all forms of social media. so when he got your call, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it.
then the voicemail came.
he must’ve played it over a dozen times. hearing your soft voice, amicable and kind. you had been drinking, clearly, and he could hear the sound of the shower running in the background. he held his phone against his head, other hand running through his hair. he was a wreck over you, and you were as well. drunk dialing was never a thing between the two of you.
especially an ‘i miss you.’
and how ‘lan’ slipped past your lip with such ease. the name was meant for you to use. only you.
he found himself stroking his cock to your words, the temptress in your voice. he knew she was there, baiting him, and he was no better than a fish to bite. he fisted his cock with your name on his lips, and a reminder that yours was on his.
with a pounding heartbeat and ringing in his ears, all he could think about was you. and more or less, you the same.
your fingers trailed down your navel in the shower, coming to nib at the lips of your clit. how swollen it was, angered and annoyed, that such a man could ignore it. by association, you.
a hand rolled over one of your breasts, twisting your nipple in hand. you gasped at the sensation you provided, flicking your clit between your fingers. you truly needed no more to make yourself cum, except the thought of lando’s voice in your ears.
‘come on, baby,’ he would say to you, fingers gliding along your drenched slit with ease. you clenched around nothing, whimpering to yourself in the hum of the hot shower. ‘little more for me, yeah?’ he would always talk you through it. never once would you be alone when you came. he was always there, lingering, a shadow against the walls.
you slipped a single finger inside of yourself, curling it expertly as lando taught you to. ‘just like that, sweet thing.’ he’d mutter against your shoulder as he’d fuck you on a chair facing a mirror. you could never make yourself cum before his “lessons.”
your back arched against the marble of the shower walls. your thumb and forefinger worked just like his would against your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves until a coil inside of you snapped, and you came all over yourself with his name on your lips.
and he could feel it. amongst the cosmic plane. he had been grudgingly fisting his cock, grunting your name over his lips. it was sinful, the way that his cock was spewing cum in only a matter of minutes at the thought of your voice. ‘lan, lan,’ you would say to him, ‘need it. need you inside,’ you’d whimper against him, begging for his cum to seep out of you.
he’d never deny you a pleasure. so he shouldn’t deny himself. he came in a matter of seconds over the palm of his hand, your name flustering his tongue. and he’d lay there, soaking in his milky cum, eyes blown wide at just how much of an effect you had on him; mind, body, and soul.
you stood there in the shower, flustered from heat, the slick running down your thighs. your hearts beat in unison at that moment, miles apart, on the same wavelength.
the shower wasn’t the same after that. you felt dirty, but so good. the namesake of lando’s voice in your ear was enough to have you cumming on your own fingers, but the touch of another man made you ill. what a shock that was to you. or maybe it wasn’t a surprise at all.
clean to the best of your ability, you slept easy that night. the best sleep you’ve had this weekend, in fact, with lando frolicking through your dreams. and you in his, whispering soft ‘i love you’s’ which had him writhing with pleasure. you infested every part of him, and he did the same to you. you’d never be free of lando norris, and the thought began to settle. it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but you couldn’t forget his words.
‘i don’t know,’ he spoke into your stomach. his nose pinched you. the words sliced clean. your stomach coiled not with pleasure, but anxiety. why didn’t he want you that way? why did he hesitate?
you weren’t taking his rejection well. that was clear.
but he wasn’t taking this any better. he was going through his own emotional turmoil of trying to make this up to you. it would be the last thing that he did.
when you woke that morning with a groggy headache and a sore ache between your thighs, you couldn’t help but groan. what the fuck were you doing last night? you perhaps had the most disappointing sex of your entire life, and now, as you looked in the mirror you were nothing more than mortified.
littered on your chest, above your breasts, were a few specks of bruises. hickey’s. fuck. fuck. that was one thing that was always far too intimate. kisses and hickeys. what did this mean, then, that you belonged to raphael? your fingers trailed up the bruises on your chest, the flesh tender beneath your soft touch. you winced at the memory of his cocky face, thinking that he had you finishing more than once. if at all. you leaned over the sink, washing your face off with cold water.
your hands rested at the base of your neck. your reflection stared back at you, pitiful, the bruises beneath your eyes reflected a tiredness that the word ‘exhaustion’ could not begin to fathom. you were disappointed in yourself. that much was clear.
a sigh escaped you when you finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. for the race today, you decided on a long dress. one that covered your chest, but hung on your shoulders. it was a beautiful piece. you’d been saving it for this weekend, and you were more than thankful that the universe seemed to be looking out for you.
you tidied up your appearance the best you could and slid on a pair of heels, grimacing at the sore ache from the night before. raphael didn’t have a valet, so you had to walk across four blocks with his hands wandering down your sides, desperate to fuck you in an alleyway. ew. you shivered at the memory, but continued on from your hotel room.
though, you took one last glance before leaving, and let your eyes rest on the balcony. it felt like a dream to see lando sitting there, his face resting against the tender flesh of your stomach. his stubble itched through the cotton of your shirt, but it rather tickled. and then he said he didn’t know what he wanted with you, and your whole life slipped right through your fingers.
he slipped through your fingers.
you shut the door.
lando’s morning, on the other hand, started off stellar in comparison to yours. he had stayed up a while longer, wondering if you would call him back, but you never did. there was a faint pang of disappointment, but much more guilt that he let you slip away so easily. he should’ve refused to leave your hotel room that night. refused by any force you attempted on him.
but he’s just that much of a fucking idiot, wasn’t he? when he left for the paddock early that morning, he glanced at his phone one last time. one missed call, and it was from you last night. and then suddenly, his heart was warm, and there was a smile on his face.
all this told him was that there was a chance. you called him. you called him whether or not you were shitfaced. blackout drunk. in your vulnerable moments you thought of him. reached out for him. fuck, he was in love with you.
in love
he paused when he shut the door behind him, frozen in place. what? is that what this was? love?
anxiety churned in his stomach. this feeling had been there for a while. a long time. and only now he was just realizing it. shit.
he fiddled with his phone in his hands. thumb hovering over your contact card, he let it fall.
it rang twice before he heard the line connect.
“yeah?” you said, demure and quiet. he knew you were exhausted. he’s heard this tone before. the tone you had when you were viciously hungover. it had him chuckling. “what?”
“good morning to you, too.” the words rolled easy from him. he suddenly felt calmer with you on the other end, but it didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in the pit of his stomach.
“good morning.” you said, like you were shocked that he was calling you to say good morning.
“fun night?” he asked, stepping into the elevator and hitting the ‘lobby’ button. a few members of his team were already waiting for him.
but you had froze up in the car ride to the paddock. what? how could he know? did he know that you were with raphael? you cleared your throat. “what– what do you mean?”
“you called me.”
shit.
if you weren’t fucked already, you were royally now. your hand dragged over your forehead as your head swarmed with anxious thoughts, completely forgetting about calling him and then…touching yourself in the shower to the thought of him. yikes! what a little freak you were. but lando would enjoy it.
“i–” you stuttered, voice caught in your throat. “i’m sorry…i was just…”
your voice trailed and you could hear his childish laugh from the other end. “no, no. it was cute.” you heard the elevator ding from his end, but it hard to focus on when there was a deep blush flustering your cheeks.
“i didn’t mean to bother you,” you quickly said, finding the need to apologize over and over again for disrupting his night. it was embarrassing enough as is that you had the worst sex of your life, but you called the one man that didn’t want you for consolidation. what a conundrum that was, wasn’t it?
“you didn’t.” his words were firm this time, no traces of playfulness. you perked up at this, finding yourself laughing.
“must’ve said something dumb, didn’t i?”
there was a pause.
“yeah. yeah. something dumb.”
there was another beat of silence. you shifted in the uber, the pass around your neck.
“i’ll see you there?”
you heard him suck in a tight breath, then release it.
“yeah. yeah, ‘course you will.”
you smiled. he could feel it.
“okay. bye, then.”
he said your name softly on the other end with a salutation, and the line went flat. you slammed your back against the leather seats of the car, hands rolling over your face. you rubbed your eyes, wondering if you were still dreaming.
it wasn’t fair that he could make you this way. that he had you in tears just a few nights before, and now your fingers shook with excitement. fuck him. fuck him for making you feel this way, and yet, there was no trace of annoyance on your face.
just a bright smile.
your name was called when you swiped into the paddock. it had you whipping your head up to see who it could be, but you already knew that it was alexandra. she wasn’t trailed by anyone else, thank god, and she flung her arms around you for a hug.
you sang a soft greeting towards her, and she looked up at you expectantly. you raised a brow.
“so…!?”
you narrowed your eyes.
“your night with…!” her voice dropped to a whisper. “raphael.”
you shushed her, looking around, before you held one of her hands in yours. “you want the truth?” her facial expression dropped, but she nodded anyways.
“awful.”
she groaned, head rolling back in disappointment. “i told rebecca it wasn’t a good idea.”
“the sex was…horrible. just…i mean, what the fuck?” alexandra burst out into a laugh as the both of you joined side by side towards the ferrari hospitality. you dreaded going, given the unanswered texts for him, you didn’t want to be confronted with…anything.
“most importantly…” alexandra stopped the two of you before you entered. “are you over him?”
him. the inevitable.
you swallowed.
and nodded your head.
alexandra was only slightly pleased and gave you a reassuring smile. boy, this would be a long day.
before the race started you were wandering around the pitlane with your miniature crew of ferrari girlfriends and their friends. raphael had found you, eagerly, with a prideful smile on his face. out of kindness, you returned the gesture, and let him linger around you for the day.
ferrari’s pit was next to mclaren’s. you couldn’t help but stare.
lando was there. in his papaya race suit. he was speaking to his engineers, and never glanced your way. look at me, you wanted to shout. please, your mind begged. but you stayed firm at raphael’s side.
he dared to stretch out his hand to let it loiter on your waist, but you shimmied out of the contact with an awkward smile. he noticed, but didn’t say anything.
lando did too.
but not what you wanted him to see. he saw you with raphael’s arm around your waist. you were smiling, laughing, in their presence. whereas he couldn’t even bear a night out without the cumbersome thoughts of you constricting his mind. he thought of nothing but you. and here you were, haphazardly dangling this spanish prick in front of his face. fucker.
you turned to look at lando again, free of raphael’s touch. he was staring.
your heart beat faster, eyes widened. your palms were sweating– why were they sweating? he looked pissed, frustrated, but you didn’t know why. your brows upturned with a soft expression that he yearned for, and his envy flushed away.
it was that easy. your gentle features. the concern ridden in your face.
you even gave him a small wave, twiddling your fingers. he was bashful in response, and returned it with a small twist of his own fingers.
but his eyes carried down. towards your chest. you blinked, realizing that part of your dress had slipped further. there was an obvious bruise making an appearance, and you felt guilty. guilty as if you had cheated on him, but you were never in a relationship to begin with.
you saw his jaw tightened and his hands flex before he turned, leaving you speechless.
and then you were dragged away, just like that, into the viewing panel for the race. they were about to start their formation lap, yet you could barely focus with your racing heart.
it past with ease. raphael tried to get closer to you, but you found excuses to stay huddled at alexandra’s side. she noticed, and even wrapped her own arm around your waist. the two of you were a picturesque vision of divine femininity. you felt untouchable at her side, incomparable to any girlfriend you’ve ever had.
lando was fighting hard. he was aggressive on the straits, pushing past the limits of his drs. your hand traced over your chin as you watched the tv intensely, frightened when you saw him make contact with one of the mercedes drivers.
“what is he doing…” you muttered under your breath. your nailbeds were being hacked on by your teeth, chewing them down to the stump. parts of your thumbs streamed with blood.
little to your knowledge, your reaction had been broadcasted. alexandra’s face unfurled with a cheeky look, realizing that she had been played by your deception from earlier. you were not over him. in fact, you were entirely worse than before. your concern was ebbed through the power of media, and that wouldn’t be forgotten.
“are you okay?” came raphael’s voice. you didn’t even look at him.
“fine.”
he took your cold tone in earnest, realizing that there was something more at stake here.
you couldn’t be more grateful when lando passed the checkered flag. your hand found the column of your throat, finding comfort. you let your face be consumed by a smile, one similar to raphael’s when he thought he made you came. stupid man, you thought, glancing towards the spaniard. you had a new priority now.
you had to prove that you wanted lando. but how? everything felt like it was becoming too complicated. your fates were intertwined via an invisible string.
and you didn’t even go to his podium.
he looked for you, sweat dripping down his forehead, but didn’t see you. it had him grow weary, agitated. he raced this hard so he could prove himself to you. prove that he was better than some lowlife.
but he fears he lost you.
the hickey’s on your neck spoke volumes. you fucked him. fucked that stranger. his fists curled around the trophy, break-necking the medal display.
did you come?
no. stop that. it’s none of his business to ask–
she didn’t. you couldn’t.
the pieces began to fall in place in his head. the phone call. you called him…when you needed him most.
it suddenly made holding this trophy all the more worthwhile, and he even donned a smile on his face when he raised it high above his head. this, he thought, was victory.
the night came as swiftly as the day went. you were getting ready to go out, alexandra reminding you to schedule your uber. you did. the dress you wore this evening was short. one of your favorite colors, and had a high neckline. for obvious reasons. you were entirely mortified that raphael felt the primal need to mark you like some bitch. it had your stomach twisting with anger, fingers pulsing with a punch.
but your violent urges stayed dormant when you met up with alexandra, charles, rebecca, carlos, and…raphael. jeez, what a lot you’ve surrounded yourself with. raphael was at your side in an instant when you climbed out of the uber, refusing to give you a morsel of space. it had your lip curling, grimacing down the vomit that curdled in your throat.
you barely spoke a word to him tonight. there was nothing more to say to him. if you were to say anything, it would be a rotten lie.
alexandra tugged you along through the doors, charles at her flank, which you gladly let her do. anything to get away from raphael would be best for you, given how much you didn’t want to confront him. it was just for the weekend, right? no strings attached.
no strings attached, echoed through your mind. flashes of lando’s hands on your hips, the phantom embrace that tensed around your flesh, seeped into your head. your heart plummeted against your will, looking around futilely for his bright smile amongst the sea of oncomers.
it didn’t take you long.
but you wish that it did.
he had his arm slung around some girl, hat backwards, first few buttons undone on his white dress shirt. hands clamming up, you tightened them together over your front, letting your eyes gawk at such a beautiful pairing. it was a different girl than the one you had rudely met in monaco.
another one of his girls.
your mind begged you to let it go. but your heart chained itself to lando, refusing to let go this…infatuation that had you sick to your stomach. what did she have that you didn’t? was she nonchalant? was she a cool girl?
your staring lasted too long. lando saw you. he felt your eyes– your heated stare, beckoning his attention. he answered your call, glancing directly at you. but he did not wave.
neither did you.
the urge thwarted you to look anywhere else but him, tugged your attention elsewhere, but you stayed firm on his freckled face, sharp cheekbones, his daunting stare. you felt the beat of his heart from across the room, the bass boosted rap, his irritability when raphael came to rest a hand on your hip. but you did not turn away from this fight. your arsenal was loaded, and so was his.
lando glanced at raphael, first to break eye contact, and swug the rest of his cocktail in hand. he let the glass slide across the counter of the bar before tugging the girl at his side to his front, the pair of them dancing with one another.
fine, if he wants to play, then you’ll play.
you were handed a cocktail by raphael. you thanked him sincerely before you downed your own in one gulp. raphael gaped at you with a slack jaw. you wiped the loose drops from your jaw, and offered him your hand.
“dance with me?”
raphael didn’t need to be asked twice when he took your hand. you led him deeper into the club, the led lights brightening both your faces. in this light, you supposed that he was irrecoverably handsome. and the thought slipped through your mind that maybe, just maybe, you could’ve had a good life with him. that in some universe that you could get over this feud with a man who doesn’t want you, you’d have a well-earned chance at happiness.
but the thought left just as quickly as it came.
your hips were against his. ass against his crotch, grinding in a rough series of movements. he began growing accustomed to how you moved, and that much you could be thankful for. no longer would the two of you be awkward on the dance floor, fragile hands trembling against your body. he felt more confident, but you could tell there was something brewing behind those big brown eyes of his. but you honestly couldn’t care less, not when you were distracted.
not when your eyes were entranced on a man who treated you like garbage. who cried in your arms, begged for your presence. then, left your hotel room with tears streaming down your face.
his hands were tightly wound around the girls abdomen, cocky expression glazing his face. he spoke to a few of his buddies here, too, amply looking like a douche. one that who knew exactly what he was doing to girls. fuck.
you were just one of his girls.
this enraged you. but it shouldn’t. but it did. there was no excuse for your fray of emotions. they simply existed, and you were going to deal with them. not in a responsible way. no, you were far too gone for that. alcohol warmed your throat, your palms, your chest.
you let your head lean back onto raphael’s shoulder, your mouth coming to his ear. “you can touch me.” you encouraged him. he seemed to lighten at this, becoming bold enough to let his hands trail up your body. he’d indulge in your shape, letting his fingers imprint against the globes of your breasts, the lining of your panties beneath your dress.
a light giggle left you when you let your head rise from his blades, and were met with an aggressive, terrifying, stare from across the room.
your lips puckered.
lando’s head was resting on the girl’s shoulder, his hips swaying with hers, but his eyes were trained on you. you, you, and more you. he was glaring at the man behind you, his gaze so bitter that it soured even your own tongue. it was the miniscule amount of guilt that flustered your head, but you shoved it down.
lando retaliated, beginning to kiss on the girls neck. she leaned against him, a gorgeous smile lighting up the room.
you grumbled, turning your head to meet raphael’s eyes. your eyes pleaded with a language of seduction, one that any man could understand.
raphael took the bait.
his lips trailed down your ear, down the column of your neck. all whilst your back was pressed against his front, you felt the outline of his dick. your palm tightened at the memory of how he attempted to fuck you, but you had to remain composed. you couldn’t fail now.
your lip caught between your teeth for dramatics. like you were holding back a moan.
lando was watching. in fact, he never stopped. he was drunk on the addiction of watching you. watching you grind your hips on that fuckin’ guy, not even wince when his lips were glossing over the sensitive flesh of your neck. could he make you wet with just his mouth?
the british driver could feel his end nearing. if this progressed any further, he’d drag your ass to the bathroom and fuck you like you’d deserve. he didn’t give a fuck. not anymore. not when your lip was bitten by your top row of teeth, an illusive point to how that guy was pleasuring you. he felt fucking sick. though he was starving to the same degree.
his chest was aflame at your teasing touches on your own body. he could see the outline of your panties, the lack of a bra. your nipples were pinching against the fabric that confined them, and he had to stop himself from drooling. you were so fucking sexy.
the girl at his front was growing bored of her lack of attention. he, honestly, didn’t even remember her name. but he’d suffice it with a swirl of his tongue around the skin of her jaw. it was a critical move, since he knew that you’d never let yourself be kissed. you wouldn’t risk such intimacy with a man you’ve only known for a few days–
except you would.
this was war, wasn’t it?
watching lando suck and slurp on that girl’s neck had you desperate to come up with an alternate idea. an approach that would crown you victorious without a second thought. it was cruel, you knew this, but you were out of options. you had something to prove. prove that you were over him. though, you knew that this would end in one of two ways;
him, fucking you.
or, him leaving.
you much preferred the latter.
with enough fury boiling in your bones, you lifted your head to meet raphael’s eyes. with your pointer finger, you let it roll over his chin, connecting with your thumb. you glanced at his lips, your tongue wetting your own, and pulled him to meet you.
raphael said your name into your mouth, nervous to even let his tongue explore yours. you sucked in a tight breath, lip curling to reference a snarl at how much you despised the sensation. it was messy, wet, and you felt instantly disgusted with yourself for even letting him touch your lips. you felt like you jumped too far into a relationship with raphael, even though you were certain that you didn’t want one.
“be my girlfriend,” raphael breathed into your mouth. you hummed a laugh, thinking that he was joking. but he moved to separate you too, staring at you with a brazen thoroughness that you never wished to see again.
“i’m serious. i want–”
“‘scuse me, mate,” you knew that voice. you knew that voice too well. your head spun around to see lando leering dangerously close to raphael’s face, the heat of his body emanating onto your own. he stood only a few inches from you.
you felt his hand ghost over the small of your back, and you suddenly felt desperate to feel it. with your lips raw from that kiss, your fingertip glazed over the flesh, your eyes lost in lando’s tense expression. his jaw was tightened, chest doing it’s best to keep his heated expression under control. however, that control was slipping with every passing moment that you were in raphael’s arms.
raphael turned his attention to lando, suddenly pissed. “need something?”
lando gave him a hoarse chuckle. “yeah. can i borrow your lady for a second?”
raphael made a move to shake his head. “no, we were just—”
“thanks, mate.” lando gripped your back with his fingertips, digging into the skin without mercy. you felt his anger rolling off of him in tense waves, the urge to consolidate him overwhelming. he led you through the crowds of people with an insurmountable force, jaw tightly clenched the entire way. you could practically hear his teeth grinding against one another.
he said nothing until he opened– no, broke the door– to the bathroom. it was a single stall– no one was in there. he allowed you to enter first, stretching out his arm as a much needed signal. you waited a moment, arms crossing over your chest.
his eyes didn’t relent. he would wait here all fucking day before you decided to go in. and you did. he locked the door behind the two of you in an instant.
“what the fuck are you–” you began to scold, back turned to him as you approached the mirror and the sink. you were interrupted when he spun you around, hand place firmly on your hip. the contact had you gasping, glancing down at his hand.
“so, what?” he said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, blown pupils. his heart was electrified, hidden behind his cage of ribs, and one hand flexed as it gripped the edges of the porcelain sink. he hummed, “hm? he your boyfriend now?”you gaped at him. “you’re serious?” you stifled a laugh, unbelieving of his attitude. “what’s it to you, lando? hm?”
his shoulders tensed. “you shouldn’t be with him.”
you rolled your eyes. lando gripped your chin, demanding your attention. “why not, then? ‘m i supposed to be your whore forever?”
his thumb rolled over your bottom lip. “you never were,” he tsked. you were bewildered. brow raising, however difficult to focus when his hand around your hip began to swirl circles on your skin.
“what the fuck are you saying, then, lando? you need to–”
“you let him kiss you.”
you froze.
“never me. why?” his restraint was slipping. his forehead edged closer and closer to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your face.
“why?” he asked again, his nose brushing against your own. you shook your head ‘no,’ lip beginning to quiver beneath his body. his chest pressed against your own as he got closer. he needed to be closer. “he fuck you better? hm? that it?”
you shuddered when you felt his fingers lower from your hip, trailing circles towards your navel, the slit of your dress that met your upper thigh.
“go on,” he urged, his voice tense from gritting his teeth. “tell me. tell me, and i’ll stop.”
you stayed quiet except for the whimper that left your throat when his fingers curled against your panties, a dampened spot ruining the fabric. there was a deep chuckle against your face, lando’s forehead still against your own. you tightened your lips together, not daring a word to spill.
“tell me, and i’ll let you go party with your new boy.”
“fuck you,” you bit out, seething with your desire, angered with his jealous antics.
“yeah? yeah? you want ‘ta fuck me?” there was no way of hiding his cocky grin. it could be seen from miles away, even when his face was millimeters from yours.
“you’re an asshole,” you heaved, your hips bucking when he began to slide your underwear to the side. your breaths were harsh against his cheeks.
“must like ‘em mean, then,” he cooed, followed by a deep chuckle. “‘cause you’re drippin’ for me.” you felt your slick seep around his fingers as h grazed the puffy lips of your cunt. your head was thrown back against the concrete wall, smacking against the surface. lando was quick to adjust your head, his fingers tugging into your hair.
“fuck,” you sighed, finding his pleasures undeniable. he was so on edge from seeing you kissing raphael, that he was lost in his madness. this pent up lust was bursting from its locked away jar, pouring its fury onto you. “touch me, lando. please–”
with a swift motion he perched you onto the porcelain sink, your head lolling against the mirror, supported by his palm. he tugged you forward so your glossy cunt stained the front of his black pants. the wet spot was pertinent, your face flushing with embarrassment. you were supposed to hate this. why did you love it?
“‘am touchin’ you, baby.” his middle finger teased you, blessing you with a split moment of euphoria of grazing your clit. you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. “look at me,” his hand tightened in your hair. your eyes flashed open, face to face with his crooked, loving smile. “look at me when i make you cum.”
you nodded, whimpering rapidly. he grinned harder at your desperate, pleading tone. though you spoke no words, he could tell just how badly you needed him.
“inside,” your begging didn’t cease, especially when he was still refusing to slide a finger inside of you. “please, please—”
your words were cut off when his middle finger curled sweetly inside of you, eliciting the sweetest pleasure you have felt in weeks. the moan you delivered was guttural, deep, and most of all, primal. lando’s dick pulsated in his pants, his fingers twitching at your lewd voice.
a hand reached out to grip onto his bicep, your head falling into the crook of his neck. you felt undeniably at ease in his hold, despite the hurt that he’s caused you.
his finger began to slide in and out of you, scissoring you to high hell and back, and you were putty in his hands. moments like these is what he favored most with you, but he would take anything to be in your presence. he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt when he swooped you up from that asshole’s arms, leaving him shocked and disrespected. lando was keen enough to twist his head over his shoulder when he led you away, watching as raphael’s face contorted with disappointment. it had his jaw tensing, resisting the urge to smirk.
“come on, baby,” lando’s voice cut through your high, your naval tightening with a hot pressure. “know you’re close. can feel it.”
he added a second finger, using his thumb to roll over your sensitive bundle of nerves. the stimulation was overwhelming, your throat raw with the carnal moans he drew from your depths. he’d be the only one to hear any of these ever again. he promised himself that much.
your orgasm was imminent, the coil in your belly snapping with a hopeless yearning you’ve been deprived of for what feels like an eternity. slick covered the palm of his hand, and your eyes had locked onto his. he watched as you trembled with desire, legs twitched around his waist. with one quick move he brought his two fingers to your lips.
you knew what he wanted.
you’ve never tasted yourself before. but your lips parted, and he lathered your slick over your tongue. you sucked in earnest over his calloused digits, lips puckering, cheeks hollowing. you swallowed, letting your tongue linger over his fingertips.
“now you know,” he whispered, clutching you tight. “why i can’t stay away.” for a brief moment, you thought he was mentioning because of the taste of your cunt. but with the deep look in his eyes, you knew it meant more. you were made for him. both in spirit and sensuality.
lando spun you around from your seat atop the sink, having you flipped, staring at your reflection in the mirror. you look disheveled, and downright fucked. your feet met the ground, the palm of his hand spreading over the expanse of your back, flattening you to a ninety degree angle.
“lift your hips for me, love,” you obeyed without second thoughts, rising to your tip toes as he ran his fingers along the underside of your thighs, pulling down the fabric of your panties. they hit the floor, and your cunt went rigid with the cold air. but you heard lando making fast work with his belt, his jeans, and you sifted back and forth. you even turned to look at him over your shoulder, lashes batting unintentionally at the spring of his cock against his lower belly.
“missed this,” he breathed, saddling his hand at the base of your neck. you pushed into his hold, deepening the connection.
your exhaustion didn’t impede your ability to get fucked. that was for sure. lando wasn’t going to spare a single effort on your behalf. he was riled, pent up, and now he wanted to see tears in your eyes as you were split open on his cock. it was a promise.
“missed you.” you mumbled. lando’s hand tightened around the frontal base of your throat.
“what was that?”
you whimpered. “missed you!”
“atta girl.” he was pleased with your higher volume, and awarded you by edging the tip of his cock through your folds. you lurched forward, gripping onto the dish of the sink. a deep groan left you, and he gave you a grace period to adjust. but it took too long. you wanted him deep. bottomed out. until there was nothing else for you to give.
“show me,” you grit your teeth. “show me he’s not good enough.”
your words seemed to ignite a flame inside of lando that couldn’t be ignored. you felt him huff air, the sensation tickling your spine, and he thrust himself inside of you. forget a grace period, you were going straight to heaven.
you moaned, his cock stimulating a perverse area inside your cunt that no man could ever reach. lando was out for blood to prove that he was the only man that could truly fuck you. and fuck you he would.
the sound of skin slapping echoed through the bathroom. your moans intertwined with his mewls, creating an atmosphere derived from both of your pleasures alone. nothing would ever compare to this feeling. how he curved deliciously inside of you, how you tightened so mercilessly around his cock. he’d let himself run dry so he could feel your tight walls each night.
the pressure of his hand around your throat didn’t relent. with his index and thumb squeezing at every point he bottomed out, you swore you were seeing stars. you were an irrecoverable mess in lando’s arms, and that’s just the way he wanted you. in the reflection of the mirror stared the fading marks that fucker left on your skin. but he was determined to make his own. and it was different that you’d let him. without a doubt, he could bite through your skin, make you bleed for all you fucking cared.
“who’s fucking you this good?” lando asked, hand tightening briefly for your response. you were lost in your haze, unable to truly focus on his words. your brows furrowed.
“you,” you said, breathless, clenching onto the sink with all your prospective might.
“who?” he prodded further, opposite hand coming to rub at your clit. you seethed, breath tightening in your throat. tears burned at your retinas, the skillful work of his fingers bringing you to an oncoming orgasm. lando felt it, and paused his fingers.
you whimpered, then looked at him in the mirror. he loomed like no man you’ve ever seen. darkened eyes, sweaty hair. fuck, he’s so hot. “you!”
his fingers returned their assault on your clit, and you could feel the burning heat once more. you grinded hopelessly against the palm of his hand, which he responded as to pinching the bundle of nerves atop your cunt to with more pressure.
it didn’t take long before you were keeling over the sink, his hand around your neck forcing you to arch before him. with your unbearably tight cunt, he came with you, filling you with hot ropes of cum. the feeling of him warm, vested in your walls brought you a comfort like nothing else.
lando’s head fell forward with his heaving chest onto the base of your neck. his heart was beating so fast, you could feel it. you lifted yourself from the downward angle of the sink, his hands coming to steady you despite his exhaustion.
“i lied to you before,” he spoke into the skin of your neck. too fucked out to really process what he was saying, you turned slightly to catch one of his eyes. “you aren’t a favorite.”
you frowned, still confused, heart feeling ripped open once more.
“you’re the only girl.”
you turned fully this time to face him.
“what?”
“you heard me.” you did. that was true. but what you didn’t believe was true, was his words.
“don’t…” you begged. “don’t play with me anymore, lan…” the nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. “i can’t…i can’t wait for someone who doesn’t…” love, “want me the same.”
lando brushed a stray hair from your forehead. he let himself lean into you. your bodies fit together perfectly.
“what do you want, then?”
your voice was caught in your throat. there was a million things you wanted, but there was only one thing you needed.
“i need you.”
need cut through his body like wild flower to barley. need was the mending his heart needed. need was the remedy of his uncertainties about you.
his face upturned into a smile.
“i can’t do this,” he said, taking a breath. “any of this, without you. need you here, with me,” with his forehead touching yours, you could feel his lashes against your browline.
“lando…”
he shook his head. your name was soft on his tongue. “please, please, stay with me. i should’ve never left that hotel room. never.”
your cheeks were wet. but they weren’t from your tears. his. his lip was quivering when you opened your eyes, his own shut as if he were too afraid to face you.
and instead of answering him with words, you tilted your head up, and let your lips collide with his. torn into shock, lando’s eyes flew open, unbelieving of what was happening. you were kissing him. your lips on his, intimate. you wanted to be intimate with him, not just fuck him.
his eyes fluttered shut, and his hand came to wrap around the back of your neck. he returned your kiss, tongue eager to explore the cavern of your mouth, and you let him. you had been afraid to let him kiss you, fearful that you would become addicted to this pleasure.
you were right in your fear. there was never a universe where you wouldn’t be drunk on his tongue, craving his teeth clashing with your own. it was an ensued battle with your mouths, one you weren’t going to relent easily. but he remained victorious and let his tongue run over yours. the two of you were inseparable, body and spirit.
there was finally a blasted knock on the bathroom door, which had you jumping. lando turned his head over his shoulder, and was quick to drop to his knees to roll your panties back up.
“like you down there,” you commented from him on his knees. he turned to look at you with a knowing smirk, and kissed the skin of your thighs. when he stood at his full height, he adjusted his own pants, looking presentable enough.
“beautiful.” he complimented, leaning in for a plethora of kisses. he kissed all around your mouth, your nose, your jaw, before he landed on your mouth.
“i love you,” he blurted out against your lips. you gaped at him and he was worried you wouldn’t feel the same. but the two of you knew this answer for a long, long time.
your brows upturned. “i love you too.”
his hand fell on your lower back, guiding you out of the bathroom. “guess you’re my girl now, yeah?”
you slapped his bicep. “we have a lot to talk about, but for tonight…” you nodded.
he was happy enough with that answer.
“gotta let raphael down easy…” you mumbled as lando held the door open for you.
“oh…!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “that’s what his name is.”
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#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando norris one shot#f1 fics#f1 smut#f1 fluff#f1 driver x you#f1 driver x reader#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fics#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fluff#f1 oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#formula 1#f1 fic#formula one#lando imagine#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#f1
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐇𝐄...
☆彡SUMMARY.; Things I believe he would do in a relationship that you’d (us.. all of us..😭) would find attractive
☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO ARETAS x READER
☆彡TROPE.; Established Relationship
☆彡FORMAT.; HEADCANON
☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF + SUGGESTION + A TINY BIT OF ANGST
☆彡WARNINGS.; mature language, mature actions, a lil bit of Armando’s toxicity shining thru, brief mentions of choking (not in like he’s gonna kill u type of way😭) brief mentions of violence, a little bit of spoilers ahead.
☆彡NOTES.; heyyyy thank u guys SAURRRR much for the love on the last Armando work I posted, I’m glad so many of yall liked it and I will continue to post and write about him 🫶🏽. (And yeah I took that picture on the middle so be free to save.. cause whew lord..). I hope you guys enjoy this one😛💕.
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED🫶🏽.
[IN PUBLIC]
✬ Armando would keep an eye on you, especially since he’s not a very trusting person to most
✬ He’s like very aware of the space you’re both in so he’d keep you at least within arms reach of him if it’s just a regular kind of day
✬ And he’d also do that thing where if he wants you to move, he’ll grab your waist and either shift you to where he wants you to do, or he’ll do that just to pass behind you
✬ And he a quiet person so instead of using many words, he just stares and expects you to know what he’s thinking
✬ If a situation arises where you’re doing something that he thinks you shouldn’t be doing, he’ll simply clear his throat and stare and he knows you should know what he’s thinking
✬ also this man has no filter whatsoever, so if you’re talking, it doesn’t even have to be to him, you could be taking to his dad or something and he’ll just blurt out some of the most insane stuff in either Spanish or English
✬ (like he did to that girl when he called her fine)
✬ like if you say “im so hot” on a day when it’s scorching outside he’d def say stuff like “I definitely agree” or some shit like that just to embarrass you
✬ He’d also stare at your lips while you’re talking to him, especially if you’re mad at him
✬ and openly stare at your body too
[ON CASES || MISSIONS]
✬ you don’t even have to be in a relationship for this one but just watching him fight
✬ Each movement of his is so effortless and he just looks good each and every time
✬ He’d also probably see you staring and raise an eyebrow at you and tell you to pay attention
✬ would tease you on missions definitely
✬ especially if it’s a mission together
✬ only a bit tho cause he’s very focused on missions
✬ makes you be his backpack on his motorcycle
✬ he’d adjust your hand to where he wants it when riding the motorcycle
✬ drives it with one hand and occasionally taps at your leg with the other
✬ and if he has time, he’ll teach you to fight like he does
[IN PRIVATE]
✬ in private he’s definitely an attitude fixer
✬ if you do something to piss him off he’ll probably just stop talking all together until you apologize
✬ when that happens tho he furrows and raises his eyebrows a lot while clenching his jaw as a way to not get too annoyed with you
✬ curses in Spanish a lottttt
✬ and when you’re being bratty or rude to him, he’ll literally grab you by the neck and bring you real close to his face then say in your ear “arregla tu actitud antes de que yo la arregle por ti..” (fix your attitude before i fix it for you..)
✬ ofc he’d do that in public too
✬ I feel like he’d be a bit clingy when alone because he doesn’t like pda, so he waits until it’s private and will literally grab all over you
✬ he cooks shirtless (idc it’s true and yes he can cook🤚🏽)
✬ has told you the most mundane every day things in the sexiest voice ever
✬whistles when you walk in a room
✬ and slaps your butt regularly (sue me ik he does🤚🏽)
✬if you’re sleeping in the same bed there’s only two places he’ll sleep, on your butt or on your stomach (no in between 🤷🏽♀️)
✬ uses that same condescending voice on you to tell you what to do, when you’re wrong, or to stop acting up
eugh I love him sm🥹
#🪸 :: 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦#armando aretas#armando armas#jacob scipio#bad boys ride or die#bad boys for life#armando x reader#armando aretas x reader#armando armas x reader
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bubble pop electric 。𖦹° spencer reid
18+ backseat sex duhhhh, afab!reader but no terms like ‘girl,’ just female anatomy, spencer’s fingers make an appearance again wowww, reader is in his lap, 1 direct hozier quote sue me, i’m still working on my writing style which isn’t important i just wanted to note that. you can listen to bubble pop electric by gwen stefani if you wanna feel the vibes, a bit unfinished i guess but i didn’t know where else to take it
tonight i’m gonna give you all my love in the backseat
the shuffling of clothes is almost the loudest thing in the car, only beat out by you and spencer’s heavy breathing and pounding hearts.
your whines and moans slip straight into his mouth— the two of you seem to have forgotten what it even means to separate from the other. you give him perfect notes like he’s playing you from the inside out. your kisses are all sloppy, unfocused and focused at the same time, spit-swapping between the two of you, his groans vibrating in his chest and into your mouth.
he curls his fingers up to kiss that spot inside you so deliberately your mind blanks, and you’re conflicted on what to focus on. his lips, or his fingers, or his sounds, or all of it at once.
yeah, all of it at once sounds great.
“you’re so pretty,” he confesses after one kiss and before another. he pauses for a second, to look. you’re so beautiful above him. the white light of the street lamps shines in through the car windows and illuminates your skin. you glow obscenely beautifully, so beautiful his brown eyes get glossy in awe.
he kisses you again, and you kiss him back like you’re begging for it. you’re always begging for it, always wanting to be wrapped up in his lips and sliding your tongue against his all messy.
you think you know insanity, that you’re as fucked as you can be right now, but that’s until through one loud pass and another you pick up the sound of the slipping and sliding of his fingers. your cunt sings out into the car and he breaks the kiss to shoot his eyes down between your legs, watching wide-eyed the lewd display you two have created.
how lewd it is.
he breathes raggedly, all keyed up. he can feel his blood boiling hot with how turned on he is.
it doesn’t take long for him to slip his fingers out of you and for the both of you to fumble with your buttons and clothes and zippers.
spencer’s nothing if not disgusting— he can’t help but rub his cock through your wetness, pupils dilating even bigger as he watches you cover him in sticky slick. its heavenly and horribly filthy all at the same time, how he taps it against your clit, softly, huffing out a laugh when you jump a little above him. the whine that leaks out of your throat is met with a hum of his own, a little sound of admiration.
spencer laughs when he sinks in. your whine is so melodic he finally tears his eyes from your cunt to your face, and god, he’s so fucking glad he did. your eyebrows are turned down, nose scrunched and lips pressed together. your eyes, hazy as they lock with his.
looking up at you is how he wants to fuck you always (at least, until he fucks you another way, it always changes). his hands find your waist and they dig in a little, slowly guiding you on his cock.
fuck.
a groan from spencer’s slack lips is what breaks the hanging silence in the car. the hypnosis that grips you both is shattered and his honest sound makes the heart between your legs pound and jump and you bring hips down on him just a little harder.
“oh my god,” he moans into your chest, his cheek rubbing against your shirt. “shit.” he’s rarely ever reduced to expletives to express himself, but when his hands are digging into your waist and you’re grinding on his lap like sin, he can’t find anything else to say.
you run your hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him, desperately, closer. lines have faded and been crossed and fucking in the backseat of a car shouldn’t feel this soft, but it does. your soft whines and moans and his earnest groans smooth out the rough edges of the circumstance, and leave sweetness in their wake. but its still lewd. it’s still sensual. he’s still fucking up into you, the sound of you two rubbing against each other still swirls in the car, he’s still cursing against your chest.
exhilaration flows through you. you and spencer never take anything too serious, especially with each other, and to be pulled over in his backseat, fogging up the windows and probably making the car shake, is what you and spencer do. it’s on-brand; of course you’d get so turned on you’d have no choice but to take it to the backseat.
it’s not like it’s the first time it’s happened, though. and it’ll happen again.
#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x black reader#spencer reid x black!reader#mcondance 2024
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ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟᴇʀ

ꜱᴇx ᴘᴏʟʟᴇɴ/ʙᴜᴋᴀᴋᴋᴇ ➠ ᴍɪɴꜱᴀɴʏᴜɴʜᴡᴀ
pairing: half orc! mingi x elf! reader (fem) x barbarian! san x goliath! yunho x tiefling! seonghwa
genre: fantasy au/dnd vibe, humor, gratuitous smut
summary: you go on a quest with a group of brutish, questionable individuals. anything for some gold and riches, right?
w.c: 6.5k ish…..yeahhhh
the world’s longest list of warnings: alcohol mention/usage, soft/hard! dom party members, brat in the streets baby in the sheets sub! reader, these mfs have a hard-on for social hierarchies esp mingi (he’s a big pervert too hehe), mxm (real homies jerk each other off), monster fucking (mimic box…listen i saw it in a porn one time and its been my dream to recreate it since okay sue meee take me to court!!), five?? some?? idk they made it work somehow, voyeurism/exhibitionism, praise/degradation, pet names, olfactophilia, aphrodisiacs, teasing, vast size differences, size kink, strength kink, manhandling, oral (receiving), overstim, tit play, bulge kink, handjob, blowjob, titjob, all the jobs actually, double penetration made possible with magic incantations <3, creampies, back shots, and facials for everyoneeee !! one for you!! and for youuu~~ also the word cock is mentioned at least 50 times in this one sorry bout that hshjs
a/n: hi ahhhh so this chaotic jumble of insanity is my baby 🥹 and it’s also my very first filth fest fic of the month !!! so yk what that means ;3 go on and strap in for me okay? it’s about to go down frfr <3 this is a sort of sequel to my half orc mingi fic but it can be read on its own! also i’ve never actually played dnd,, i’ve just heard about it from my brother so don’t expect an extremely accurate representation;;; i did do quite a bit of research tho <33 but yeah that being said…. rip reader’s elussy </3
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ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʙʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴇʟʏ ᴅᴀɴ
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
“Ladies and gents, now this is a quest that’s not for the faint of heart,” your local guild master announced, leaning his heavy forearms on the crowded bar table below him, stroking his long, bushy beard absentmindedly, the wood furnishing of the bar creaking underneath his weight.
The lively room grew a bit more quiet, some individuals quirking their heads in the seasoned barbarian’s direction, yours included. “With a hefty 1000 gold pieces as your reward, this quest requires you to find and locate the rare lujuria plant, then bring its seeds back to me. Unfortunately for you lot, they’re only found in the abandoned dungeons near Mist Falls. Any takers?”
At the mention of the plant and location, most of the interested individuals turned back to their ale and friends, resuming their loud, enthusiastic conversations. You, however, couldn’t believe how idiotic the other patrons were. You could do quite a lot with 1000 gold pieces, and being a solo adventurer, you wouldn’t even have to share it with anyone. With dollar signs in your eyes and a spring in your step, you headed up to the busy bar, having to get on your tippy toes and wave your hand around past some of the larger patron’s broad shoulders until the guild master noticed your presence.
“Now, don’t tell me a dainty little high elf is interested in the quest I just announced. You gonna scare them off with your shiny hair and sparkly crystals?” the older man gruffed, letting out a hefty laugh, before taking a couple gulps from the oversized mug he held within his large, calloused hands.
When you simply stood there with your hands crossed over your lace-covered chest, the guild master set his mug down, his bushy eyebrows raising upwards. “Oh, you’re serious.” He leaned down to your level, cupping his hand around one side of his face, allowing you to smell the ale on his breath. “Do you know why no one likes to go to Mist Falls, little Miss?”
You shook your head, causing the small jewels that dangled from your silky hair to sway a bit. You cupped a hand around your own face, murmuring, “Why does no one like it, Mister?”
“There’s some strange wildlife that frequent the land there. Otherworldly things…things that an elf like you wouldn’t want to get wrapped up in,” he explained carefully, looking over the lens of his glasses to squint at you. “Unless, you’re into that sort of thing, of course.”
Not understanding what he meant by his vague statement, you shrugged it off, taking his underestimation of your abilities as a challenge you couldn’t bear backing down from. “I’ll take the quest, Mister, and I’ll bring you those seeds.”
The guild master smiled down at you, chuckling a bit, like you weren’t in on the joke that he was so amused by. “Very well, little Miss.” He handed you the rolled-up scroll, his lips still curled into a suspicious smile. “Good luck with your quest.”
Taking the scroll, you nodded your head at him, a smug smile painting your own face, as you turned on your heels to leave, reveling in the fact that your levels of commitment and intelligence were clearly in the upper echelons compared to the rest of the idiots that frequented the crowded guild.
Before you could leave without any issues, a deeply familiar, incredibly cocky-sounding baritone voice interrupted your mental victory dance. “Would you look at that. Gonna handle a dungeon all on your own, eh, princess?”
You quickly turned your head, your eyes landing on the tall, solid beast of a half-man, half-orc standing with one hand resting on his leather-bound hip, his golden eyes slowly studying your body with an almost nauseating amount of interest. “Mingi…” you sighed, the events of your last few meetings flashing through your brain, the tips of your ears turning a faint red. “Oh, you think I can’t handle a stupid quest on my own either, huh?”
He shook his head, his shaggy silver hair falling in his eyes, forcing him to swipe it out of the way with his large ringed fingers. “Nope.” His simple response encouraged his equally large, equally intimidating party members, who were hanging out near him, to laugh and chatter amongst themselves.
Now your hands were on your hips, getting hit by a wave of annoyance, your cheeks burning. “Watch me.”
Mingi took a step towards you, just to show you and anyone nearby just how much he towered over you, his lips quirking up into a shit-eating grin, still peering down at your body like he could already picture what you looked like without the form-fitting lace dress that was wrapped around your curvy body like a pretty present, one that he wanted to open as soon as possible.
“With a petite little body like yours?” He reached down to slip a finger into your hair, playing with one of the crystals that adorned it. “Yeah, so small and delicate, like a pretty little fairy, ain’t ya? Those monsters in that dungeon will swallow you whole.”
You might’ve hated Mingi to an extent, but he was good. Good at making you feel tiny and desirable, and so wet, you were afraid he’d be able to smell it from where he was standing. You closed your thighs together slightly, lowering your closed fists to your sides, leaning forward. “I-i’m not a fairy, you dumb orc! I'm an elf! And I don’t need your help!” Just as you turned around to leave, Mingi cleared his throat, making you turn your head back to glare at him.
He placed his other hand on his hip, letting his weight shift to the opposite side, his head tilting the other way. “Sweetheart, listen, I know you’re very capable of getting what you want,” he mused, chuckling softly at the way your face scrunched up slightly in embarrassment. “But, I’m sure you could use some extra party members to back you up. Me and the boys want to help you. Won’t you let us?”
You gazed at Mingi a little while longer, before your eyes shifted to his friends, first drawn to the most elegant-looking tiefling you’ve ever seen. He had sleek skin that looked like expensive marble, his hair as white as the frost that would cover all the lands during the winter months, his heavy horns ridged and curled into an ‘s’ shape, and black as soot, his thin, pointed tail quietly slithering around in a snake-like motion behind the long black cloak that hung from his pointed shoulders.
“That’s Seonghwa,” Mingi informed, with his arms folded across his wide tattooed chest. “Doesn’t talk much, unless it’s to cast a spell or call me stupid.”
Seonghwa’s pretty lips formed a smirk, wrapping his arms comfortably around his slim, corseted waist, his sharp, milky eyes focused intensely on you, like he was peering through you and straight into your soul.
“Oh, are we introducing ourselves?” someone said excitedly, your eyes following the voice upwards until they landed on the handsome face of the gentle-looking goliath standing besides the tiefling. At roughly seven feet tall, the broad man sported shiny, golden locks, pretty brown eyes, and a tribal tattoo that was plastered on his veiny neck, clad only in a thick pelt that sat comfortably around his solid waist, wearing matching furry cuffs on his thick forearms. “I’m Yunho! I like to get drunk and smash stuff. What do you like to do, elf girl?” The goliath stepped forward to shake your hand, his hand completely encompassing yours, your neck almost hurting from having to look up at him.
“Hi, Yunho,” you replied, smiling softly, feeling a bit dizzy from your vast difference in sizes. Everything about him was just so big, you couldn't help but wonder what else was too. “I’m Y/N. I like to go on quests and collect gold.”
“Don’t tell me we’re actually going to help a high elf,” the last party member interrupted in a low voice, sneering, showing off his large, rounded canines when you looked past Yunho to scoff at him. “And an annoying one, at that. I don’t care if she’s fuckable. This is still a waste of time.”
Yunho put a large, warm hand on your shoulder, covering it completely. “Don’t take San’s words seriously, sweet. He bullies people when he likes them.”
The brooding barbarian folded his arms over the thick, furry pelt that covered his broad upper half, rolling his eyes, a few strands of his wild raven hair falling past his forehead. “Or maybe I just don’t like stuck-up little elven brats, ever think of that, Yunho?” His pronounced eyebrows joined together in a bout of sudden fury. “Huh? Can you even hear me up there, you oversized son of a bitch?”
A faint blush appeared on Yunho’s cheeks, smiling in San’s direction, before looking back down at you. “See? He loves me.”
You returned his smile with a grimace. “He loves being a dickhead too, apparently.”
“Excuse me?!” San growled, about to walk up to the both of you to prove that he only loved moonshine, his trusty club, and himself.
Mingi stepped in front of San, waving his hands around exasperatedly, wishing someone presented a dialogue skip option a long time ago, bored of the introductions. “Alright, alright, so are you coming with us, or not, princess? What’s the verdict?”
You rolled your eyes, opening the large entrance door of the guild, eventually letting out a long sigh, glancing back over your shoulder with a pout. You knew you had a slim chance of surviving without them, but you still had your pride. You let out a small hmph, annoyed when they still all just stood there waiting, encouraging you to stomp your silk shoe down on the ground, grumbling, “Ugh, are you coming, or what?”
Mingi and his friends chuckled amongst themselves and elbowed each other, amused by the amount of fiery zealousness your tiny body possessed, finishing their mugs of ale, eventually following you out of the guild and onto the dirt road.
“Hurry up! I wanna explore this dungeon today, not during the next winter solstice!” you called out to them, already at the forest entrance, tossing your head back in an exaggeratedly annoyed fashion.
The half-orc waved his hand around nonchalantly, despite his large lower canines growing more and more visible the more he began to smile, pulling out a small pair of lace panties that had a familiar design etched into them. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your little elf panties in a twist,” he chuckled, bringing them up to his face to take a sniff.
Your inquisitive expression melted down into one of horror, then scrunched again, this time pleading him with his eyes. “Mingi…don’t tell me you’ve kept those all this time.”
“Of course I have, princess. In fact, I jerk off with them every chance I can in your honor. I can cum real hard just from knowing I turned a high elf onto orc cock forever. I still remember like it was yesterday,” he sighed dreamily, wiping away a fake tear, like had just said the most romantic sentence even known to orckind.
“I still fuck elves, you twat! I don’t need you or your stupid orc cock!” you argued, turning away so that none of them could see how flushed you had gotten, heading into the forest by yourself.
“That’s a damn lie. You showed up to my hut like three times during the Great Hunt not too long ago,” Mingi explained, following after you, his friends following beside him. “Don’t you remember? I had to carry you home after you passed out from squirting too hard.”
“No!” you shouted from ahead of him, swearing you were going to melt into the floor.
“She’s got elven pride, that one,” Mingi sighed, admiring you from behind. “Anyway, I got her soaked panties to prove it. You want to see them, don’t ya, Hwa?” Mingi elbowed Seonghwa, who just shook his head in disappointment, while he continued smiling truimphantly to himself.
࿏࿏࿏
Your group took on a range of opponents, from skeleton armies to disingenuous slime cubes that you may or may not have fallen into, able to pass through quite a few levels of the dungeon, mostly due to Seonghwa’s spell casting abilities, San’s uncontrollable rage, Yunho’s knack of destroying anything he came in contact with, and Mingi’s axe-wielding skills. Did you want to admit that to yourself? Sure. Out loud? No, of fucking course not.
You picked off bits of pink slime that still clung to your wet form, grumbling under your breath about how sticky you felt, not even noticing that some of the slime had already absorbed into your skin.
“Need a little help there, princess?” Mingi mused, reaching down to your shoulder and wiping off some of the slime for you, his fingers tingling once he had done so.
“I suppose so,” you murmured, standing still so that he could continue helping you, surprisingly not even that bothered when the other members of your newfound party all gathered around you and picked or pulled off the remnants of slime that remained on your body, face, and hair.
As you entered the next room, all five of you noticed how the tinglyness remained, how it spread throughout your bodies like a gentle ripple effect, your bodies now collectively hot to the touch, though no one said anything to each other — at least, not yet, anyway.
“A chest!” you gasped excitedly, putting your dagger back into its respective holder and running up to the large, gold-plated chest that sat at the edge of the room, just waiting for someone to open it up and collect its contents.
“Don’t be stupid, elven brat. Not all chests are filled with treasure. Some of them could be decoys. You know that, right?” San rested the rounded bottom of his ginormous club down onto the dungeon floor, leaning on it, raising an eyebrow at you. “Or do you only familiarize yourself with crystals and orc cock?”
“Shut up!” You held onto the barbarian’s insult, rather than hearing him out. “You’re just saying that because you want the treasure for yourself!” You got on your knees in front of the chest, muttering, “Selfish prick.”
“What’d you say?!” San barked, his hand squeezing around the thick handle of his weapon.
Mingi slung an arm around San’s tense shoulders, smiling as though he was quite pleased with himself. “She’s got a mouth on her, huh?” He met San’s grimace with a shoulder squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sannie. She’s gonna learn the hard way.”
Yunho walked up beside Seonghwa, lowering himself down to sit on the cool stone ground with a thud, wiping a bit of perspiration that had formed on his forehead. “I’ve been feeling weird since we left the slime room, Hwa. Can you cast a healing spell?”
“Yeah, me too, now that you mention it,” Mingi called out, rubbing his sweat-covered neck with his free hand, encouraging San to open his own black furry coat, revealing an expanse of sweaty, tan, tattooed skin underneath it.
Seonghwa nodded his head in agreement, waving his hand around in front of him, manifesting a large glowing violet pentagram into existence, which eventually disappeared after the spell had be casted completely, a faint glow still visible around the edges of your bodies.
“Mm, I don’t really feel any different…” Mingi mumbled, his hot-blooded body even more tingly than before, starting to feel like he could fuck someone into oblivion right at that moment, even more than usual.
Once you had opened up the chest, ignoring the subsequent pounding inside your chest and cunt, you were met by a multitude of shiny, gold coins just waiting for you to take. “Holy shit, I’m rich!”
“You better split that with us, before I split you in half with my cock, stupid elf!” San griped from where he stood, now a bit hunched over, his words slightly slurred, not even fully realizing what he was saying.
“Wh-what?!” you squeaked, your ears bright red, turning your head to look at the barbarian in disbelief, not even noticing when the chest in front of you began to sprout limbs, a long, slimy tongue slipping out past the gold.
“I said, I’ll split you open–” San fully dropped his club, which resulted in a resounding thud inside the small room. He pointed an accusatory finger in your direction, blinking at you through his hazy vision, using his other hand to grab at himself through his furry kilt. “–with my big, barbarian cock!”
Yunho pointed at you as well, wanting you to notice the big monster that was about to have its way with you. “Um, Y/N, you should…”
“Not now, Yunho, I have to tell this idiot barbarian to suck my clit!” you informed angrily, holding your middle finger up at San, which he returned enthusiastically.
“Oh, yeah? Then, get your fucking ass over here and sit on my face, you elf slut,” San barked back, sticking his tongue out at you, still holding onto Mingi, appearing drunker by the second — though it wasn’t alcohol running rampant through his body. It was lust. The rest of them were feeling it too.
“Slut? I’ll show you slut,” you grumbled, about to stand up and give San a piece of your mind, your fist, and possibly your body when the mimic suddenly snatched you up with its long limbs and pinned you to the floor. “Oh my god, what’s happening? What the fuck is that?!”
San simply chuckled, leaning his back against the cold concrete wall of the small room, trying to cool his intensely heated body down. “That’s a mimic, dummy. I’m sure you can handle it though, since you’re so tough.”
Mingi looked to his friends, biting at his lip, noticing that none of them even attempted to assist you, more concerned with finding out what the monster was about to do to you. Even Yunho, who was the only one with any semblance of a conscience out of the entire party, somehow couldn’t bring himself to get up, instead answering to the oversized tent that was forming underneath his pelt.
The mimic pinned your wrists together above your head with one strong hand, using the other to lift one of your legs up into the air, breathing harshly as it studied your slick cunt through your tiny lace panties, eventually licking a long stripe up your body, from your pussy up to your chest, leaving your white garments completely soaked and see-through.
Trying desperately to free your hands from the monster’s unwavering grip, unable to prevent more slick from leaking out of you with your legs being held open, you angled your head back to look at the upside-down versions of your party, crying out, “Are you fuckers just going to sit there and watch?!”
“Yeah…we are, sweetheart,” Mingi sighed out, still leaning on San, a few drops of sweat cascading down his flushed face. He dragged his tongue across his teeth, breathing in the flowery scent of your arousal, inhaling so deeply his bull ring shifted slightly. “I’m sure you got it handled. Just tire it out with that wet fucking cunt of yours, will ya?”
A strong wave of pleasure pulsed through your body at Mingi’s response, looking to each of the members, realizing that they were really just going to observe as you got pleasured by the monster, getting more aroused by the second. What was wrong with you? You would’ve contemplated it more, but any thoughts you had would completely fizzle out once the mimic’s tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking you up and down in a rapid, desperate fashion. Its tongue was so heavy and hot against your pulsing cunt, you couldn’t help but cum within a few minutes, your body going limp. “Fuuuck, oh my god…”
“Came nice and hard, didn’t you?” Mingi continued to share his filthy words with you and his party, all five of you reacting positively to it. “I can fucking smell it, princess…” His smile twisted into a faux pout, his voice dripping with lust. “That tongue isn’t enough for you though, is it? Mm-mm, not nearly enough. You need cock stuffed inside your tight elven pussy, don’t you, darlin’?”
All you could do was let out a long pathetic whine, your flushed, fucked-our face giving Mingi and the boys the answer they needed. Now that you weren’t fighting back, the mimic lifted your lower half up into the air, positioning you so that its tongue could slither inside you, pistoning it in and out of your willing hole, your upper half hanging upside down, your tits bouncing with each of the mimic’s thrusts of its wet appendage, your writhing body on display for your party members’ viewing pleasure. “I’m…going to…kill you all…for watching…” you huffed out in between moans, drool slipping out past your parted lips.
Mingi turned his head to share looks with his friends, all of them now dealing with the same almost painful predicament. “Are you all as hard as I am…?” When they nodded, he felt a little less guilty, reaching down to rub at his leaking cock through his kilt, able to feel how stiff it was even through the thick material. He gazed down at you, biting at his bottom lip, holding onto the thick leather of his body harness, trying not to blow his load too quickly. “It feels good, doesn’t it, princess? I can hear how just how sloppy that mess of a cunt is…Do you like the way it’s fucking you senseless with its tongue? Is it filling you up just right?”
You couldn’t believe just how turned on you were in the moment, hardly about to breathe in between your bouts of pleasure, your body beginning to sieze up when the mimic shoved its tongue as deep as it could go, causing a prominent bulge to form inside your lower stomach. “S-so good, Min, gonna cum again…”
“Cum for us, baby, that’s it…” Mingi sighed, leaning his shoulder against San’s, noticing how he began to play with his cock through his kilt, doing his friend a solid and reaching over to stroke the base of it for him.
Groaning underneath his breath, San reached over to help Mingi out as well, the both of them hyperfixated on the way the mimic drank up your juices as though it needed it to live. Seonghwa and Yunho were in a similar position, but instead of answering to their aching cocks, they simply watched on, the visual stimulation clearly enough for them.
The mimic lifted your limp body upwards so that you were on your knees, with its large, agile tongue fitted in between your trembling thighs, grabbing you by the waist so that it could drag you back and forth along its long, slimy appendage. “Just like that, oh my god, it’s so–fuck–” you gasped, barely able to look at the men that were huddled around you, the new position not allowing you to hide away from their hungry gazes, your body on full display for them.
With his hand now fully hidden underneath San’s kilt, Mingi nodded his head at you in approval. “That’s my naughty little elf girl,” he praised you in a gravelly voice, groaning at the sensation of San tugging at his dripping cock from underneath his own pelt. “Let me see you cum one more time for us, princess. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Mingiii, I’ll cum for you,” you whined obediently, reaching down your shiny, wet body to rub your clit around through your thin, soaked panties, unable to keep your mouth closed anymore from how hard you were breathing.
“What a good listener you are, baby. Look at you playing with your tiny little clit without me having to ask. Such a good elf girl you are,” Mingi continued to praise you, knowing exactly what made you tick, his hand squeezing around San’s throbbing length.
San let out a higher pitched moan, his body beginning to tremble against Mingi’s. “I can’t believe you–unnh–managed to tame her so easily…”
“It wasn’t hard, Sannie…fuck– She may be a brat, but she’s a good girl at heart…” Mingi was beginning to fall apart as well, San’s calloused hand continually rubbing along his cock enhancing the pleasure of watching you willingly playing with yourself while you rode a monster’s tongue, his party’s presence filling him with even more warmth. “Cum for us, sweetheart, show us how pretty you are when you fall apart…”
Mingi’s praise-filled request mixed with the sensation of your puffy clit grinding along the mimic’s slick tongue sent you barreling over the edge, cumming so hard, you saw stars, barely able to grasp at the dagger that still sat inside its holster.
Meanwhile, San and Mingi both began to groan and shudder against the cool dungeon wall, shooting their hot loads onto each other’s hands and the insides of their pelts. Seonghwa and Yunho both coated their own undergarments with white, biting into their bottom lips so hard they just about broke the skin.
They were all so deep in their wells of ecstasy that they hardly even noticed when you let out a war cry and stabbed the mimic with your long dagger, rendering it dead, causing it to fade away in a flurry of sparkly, white dust, leaving a few gold pieces for you to take.
“I told you I could fucking take care of myself,” you grimaced, shoving your items into a small pouch you had hanging from your upper thigh.
Once the post-nut clarity set in, Mingi cleared his dry throat, scratching at his prickly chin. “I mean, you did defeat the mimic on your own, so credit is due when credit is due, princess. You just used your pussy to combat it…which is just as valid as using a real weapon, don’t get me wrong–”
“Shut it!” you simply yelled, your face so hot, it probably rivaled the surface of the sun, stomping past the recovering men and pushing the next door open once it unlocked itself, wasting no time to enter the last floor of the dungeon where the supposed lujuria plant was said to grow.
“Let’s go help her out with that plant. And remember, whatever happens, happens. Just know I’m not fucking any of you.” Mingi patted San’s shoulder, looking over to the other members of his party with a playful smile.
San smacked Mingi’s back playfully, which Mingi returned. “Let’s put that elf brat in her place.”
Mingi nodded. “Yeah, on my cock where she belongs.”
Seonghwa scoffed from beside them. “Could you be anymore crass?”
Yunho patted Mingi’s and Seonghwa’s shoulders, practically dislocating them, smiling goofily, his cheeks and face flush from the energy he exerted. “What happens in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon, boys.”
Seonghwa quietly nodded his head in agreement, until he murmured softly, “Indeed.”
࿏࿏࿏
“Where are you, you stupid fucking plant?” you called out inside the vast, foliage-covered room, swiping at the overgrown leaves and plants that were in your way, almost tripping over a few vines that grew in and out of the broken-up cobblestone floor below your feet.
The rest of your party followed your lead, Mingi and Yunho taking the initiative to cut down the thicker plants and foliage that stood in your way with their axes, almost completely out of breath when you finally came across a large pink plant growing in the middle of the room.
“I’m assuming that’s it,” you said mostly to yourself, slowly walking up to the plant, impressed by its intricate petals and inviting flowery scent. “It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be. It’s almost…pretty…”
Just as you reached out to touch it, Seonghwa opened his mouth to warn, “Wait, don’t–”
As soon as your slender fingers came in contact with one of the flower petals, the plant sent out a puff of dusty pink pollen directly into your face and the air around your party, before folding in on itself and growing comically large spikes to protect its core which contained the golden glowing seeds you needed to complete your quest.
You began choking and coughing along with the others, reaching out blindly through the thick pollen, finding solace in Seonghwa’s arms, who began reciting a spell to lessen the effects of the plant’s attempt at self defense, but it was too late. Mind-altering desire had already set in. “Can’t breathe…can’t think…” you whispered, grabbing at Seonghwa’s chest, unbuckling his top and revealing his smooth, marble skin, henna-like tattoos decorating his jewelry-adorned collar bone.
Seonghwa clutched your shoulders, breathing just as profusely as you were, murmuring, “Don’t think, then, silly elf,” before pressing his mouth onto yours with haste, his long, snake-like tongue slipping inside your mouth to explore it.
Strong, solid hands grabbed at your hips from behind, Mingi pulling them back so that he could grind his cock into your ass, his lips already ghosting along your neck. His deep, gravelly voice made you let out a weak moan into Seonghwa’s mouth when he sighed, “Gonna fill your cunt full of my cum, sweetheart. So fucking full.”
“Then, I get to fill her slutty elf cunt with my tongue first,” San interrupted, already on his knees, positioning himself in between you and Seonghwa, not hesitating to tear your skirt and panties apart to access your rapidly dripping cunt. “So pink, so pretty…” He attached his drooling mouth onto your clit, sucking so roughly, your knees almost buckled underneath you, about to completely collapse when he plugged your hole up with his hot tongue.
Seonghwa pulled away slightly, finally letting you breathe without having his tongue down your throat, instead completely shredding the front of your dress with his talons, just in time for Mingi to groan and cup your tits, squeezing and moving them around, saliva leaking past his plump lips. “I always know exactly what your idiotic orc brain is thinking,” he sighed at Mingi, bringing his own hands up to tweak and pinch at your nipples, making you cry out.
“Oh, yeah? Can you read my mind right now, Hwa? Can you tell that I’m about to stretch this elf’s little fuckhole wide open with my fat fuckin’ cock?” he said near your twitching, elongated ear, his hard length slipping in between your thighs to rub along the underside of your cunt, his dark eyes settled on Seonghwa’s before returning to your slick body, their hands moving in tandem to play with your tits, each getting a chance to squeeze your squishy flesh and tease your increasingly puffy nipples.
Yunho, who was hard beyond measure and feeling a little left out, walked up to the side of you and reached down to show off his enormous cock, the slick , oversized tip an angry shade of red. He pouted down at you, letting out a small whimper. “Can you please help me out, sweet? I’m so hard, it hurts…”
Unable to resist his puppy-dog eyes, you nodded, licking your lips, collecting his vast amounts of pre-cum at the rounded tip with your fingers, eventually using it to slick up the rest of his cock, doing your best to jerk him off with your small hands. “Does that feel good, Yunho?”
“So good, doll,” he gasped, leaning his head back, not registering when he began to thrust his hips forward into your hands, using them like a fleshlight.
You’re so big, Yunho, fuck– I can hardly wrap my hands around it…” you sighed out, opening your mouth to lick at the tip of his cock each time he thrusted into your hands. Your mind went blank, until you suddenly remembered that San was in between your squeezing thighs, devouring your cunt like it was his last meal, his tongue and lips wreaking havoc on your clit, his thick fingers shoved inside your pulsing hole.
“Like the way I’m eating this cunt of yours, eh, elf girl?” San mumbled in between slurps, gulping your juices down, a few dribbles of it cascading down his veined throat. “You don’t even need to answer, love. I can tell you do just from the way you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ my fingers.” San groaned deeply, watching the way you dripped for him as he continually went knuckles-deep inside you, biting his bottom lip, growling, “Cum for me. Cum all over my face, you brat. Fuckin’ do it.”
You unraveled almost instantaneously, getting your creaminess sucked off of your slit by the desperate barbarian, not even noticing that he had been jerking himself off so roughly, he had already made himself cum before you did.
“Goddamn it, since when did high elf squirt taste so fuckin’ good?” San mumbled drunkenly to himself, licking at his swollen lips, prior to sucking your cum from his fingers noisily.
“You’ve had your fun, Sannie boy. It’s time for this little elf girl to experience the pleasure of getting broken in by real men. Hwa, you know what to do,” Mingi announced hastily, already bringing you down to the floor so that you were about to slowly take the half-orc’s cock in your cunt from behind, Seonghwa supporting your front, the tip of his tail already brushing back and forth over your swollen clit, rubbing his large, ridged cockhead on your puffy lips to slick them up with his pre-cum, his own plump lips moving at a quick pace, expertly reciting an incantation that would allow you to physically take two obscenely large cocks at once, all well as increasing your natural lubricant and allowing you access to heightened physical sensations.
“Fuck, look at you…What a good little elf girl you are, taking us both inside you like this,” Mingi sighed into your ear, reaching around your body to lazily rub your wetness into your sensitive clit. “Almost like you were made to take monster cock, huh? Not made for little elven peckers, it seems.” He pressed his hand into your lower abdomen, able to feel the pronounced outline of his friend’s abnormally large length. “Mm, that’s right. You loved being stuffed full of monster cock, don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Love it, Min, so much,” you choked out, your mind going positively blank, the only thing on your mind being the insanely pleasurable stretch you felt inside your core, knowing you were quite literally filled to the brim. “Feels so good, I can’t think.”
“Why think when you can just feel good, princess?” he chuckled, rubbing your tummy in an up and down motion, feeling the outline of Seonghwa’s thick, ridged length with his calloused fingers, shuddering from the sensation of their slippery cocks rubbing along one another inside your tight, slick walls . He nuzzled your neck and the side of your face with his prickly cheek, whispering onto your skin, “M’ so proud of you, sweetheart. I broke you in before and now here you are, taking big tielfing cock in your pussy while an orc’s stuffing you just as full. What a pretty sight you are. Wish I could take a picture.”
“Oh my god, Mingi, please, it’s so–” you could hardly verbalize, your eyes just about rolling into your skull, your body pulsing with so much pleasure, you could barely keep up with what was happening around you.
Mingi routinely filled your elongated ears with more filthy words, Seonghwa gazing deeply at you, your willing hole continuing to clench around their thrusting cocks, getting stretched so pleasurably, you almost passed out from that sensation alone.
All the while, San positioned himself in from of your tits, squeezing them together and driving his cock back and forth between them, grunting and groaning each time.
Yunho gently grabbed your chin, coaxing your mouth open as wide as it would go, whispering, “That’s it, my sweet, just a little wider…” He began to feed you his cock, stuffing your mouth full and instinctively fucking your throat, your jaw already beginning to ache from the obscene girth. “You’re so tiny…can barely take it…huh?” Moaning breathily, Yunho eventually settled for fucking the inside of your gummy cheek, afraid that he would suffocate you if he continued to throat fuck you.
It seemed that this quartet had been in this exact position before. That was clear to you now. You couldn't have been more wet and willing if you tried. Getting used by two filthy men while two more watched and desperately tried to get off using your body in any way they could filled you with a sense of purpose you didn’t realize you had always sought after.
“You want our cum in your pretty elf cunt, princess?” Mingi huffed, in between harsh, deliberate thrusts, his hands cemented on the reappearing bulge in your stomach. “Huh? You want us to make a mess of you, aye? Want to be fucked so full of our seed, you’ll give us pretty elven offspring?”
Once Yunho freed your saliva-streaked mouth from his suffocating length and resorted to jerking himself off, you were able to reply in a fucked-out, slurred voice, “Yeah–yeah–yeah– fill me up, wan’ it all. All your cum, in me, on me, I need it, pleaseee.”
Your willing party members’ highs all crescendoed in succession, Mingi resorting to sloppy, rough thrusts inside your tight hole until he spilled most of his load into you, his cum splashing onto Seonghwa’s cock, dripping along their lengths to form a milky rim. “Oh, fuck, that’s it…but I’m not done yet, princess…I gotta–nngh–leave my mark on my favorite elf…” He slowly pulled out with lewd pop, coaxing a few more cum shots out of his cock with a large, closed fist, watching the large milky droplets slide along your smooth skin and torn sections of your dress onto the curve of your exposed ass, his eyes creasing with clear adoration. “That’s more like it…”
“W-was that necessary…?” you murmured, trying not to cum just from the sensation of getting stuffed full of cum, sensing that Seonghwa was next in line to come undone inside you.
“Oh, my gods, I…see heaven,” Seonghwa gasped sharply, the whites of his boundless eyes glowing brightly, his lips parting to allow a shaky moan to escape. Seonghwa gripped your hips so tightly, he was bound to leave handprints, relying on slow, deliberate strokes, using your contracting cunt to milk the cum from his cock, unable to resist leaving a few drops on your clit and mound when he pulled out.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna cum all over these tits, you little elven slut, take itttt,” San gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening, only having to pump himself between your slick, pre-cum covered tits once more before he was able to leave thick spurts of white all over the bottom of your heated face and lips, leaving most of his load on your messy tits.
“O-oh, godddd…!” Yunho came last, and the most, closing his hands around his reddened tip, whining profusely, unable to keep himself from completely unloading all over your pretty face and hair, practically drenching you in his cum.
Mingi reached down to cup your chin, tilting your head back so that he could get a good look at you, admiring the way their collective seed dripped off and out of you, swearing he could shed a tear from such a beautiful sight. “Look at you. My pretty princess.”
You gently nuzzled his large hand, smiling contentedly, tasting the salt of someone’s load on your lips when you licked at them. “Your pretty princess…”
It took a while for all of you to come down and catch your breath, the effects of the pollen still practically running through your veins, but you managed to wobble your way over to the main plant and slowly pull your trusty dagger out of its holder, slashing the plant until its precious seeds dropped into your open palm. You looked down at the golden, glowing seeds, your fingers still splattered with milky liquid, reminding you of the trials you conquered to get to your ultimate goal. As you wiped your sticky face with your sleeve, you looked around at your panting, much more docile party members, wondering if it was all worth it.
Mingi brushed some of his sweaty hair out of his eyes, noticing the way you were looking up at him, sending a cocky smile your way. “So, you’re 200 gold pieces richer, princess. How does it feel?”
“Huh?” you questioned immediately, your fingers closing around the pouch that contained the precious lujuria seeds. “It was 1000 gold pieces. Did fucking me stupid render you stupid instead?”
“I’m sorry, darlin’, but with each party member fee, it rounds out at 200 a person,” he corrected you, bringing you in to give you a gentle hug and a pat on the ass, chuckling delightedly to himself, his friends joining in on the amusement. “That’s still quite a bit. You can buy yourself a pretty new dress since yours is all torn and drenched in our cum, ya’ know?” He leaned his head in your direction, twiddling his large thumbs, his smile growing more lewd. "That means I can have the one you're wearing right now, yeah?"
You grimaced, your blood boiling over, already stomping your way out of the last dungeon floor, your voice still growing louder and louder the further you walked away, swearing to yourself, “This is the last time I do anything with you, Mingi! Never again. Never! EVER!”
Mingi simply waved off at his friend’s questioning gazes, holding the seeds that you had taken from the plant inside his own hand, admiring their shimmering edges. “Don’t worry. She always comes back.”
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
#february filth fest#cultofdionysusnet#cromernet#wonderlandnet#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#ateez mingi#yunho ateez#ateez seonghwa#choi san#san smut#mingi smut#yunho smut#seonghwa smut#ateez fanfiction#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#kpop smut
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DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar
[discontinued, feel free to add on]
It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.
Just plain weird.
It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".
Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.
Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.
Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.
(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)
Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.
He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.
Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.
It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.
Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.
On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.
Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?
Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.
Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.
And there was the next weird thing.
No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.
The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.
The fuck?
So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.
Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.
Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.
Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.
Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".
The color might be just a coincidence.
...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.
So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.
He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.
He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.
...
Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#batman#jason todd#tim drake#afterlife#red hood#ghost zone#but its a bar?#this was actually the first ever thing i have written in dpxdc fandom#it was more than a year ago#its been sitting in my notes for a long time#the grammar is funky#i remember i was into Dead on Main at the time#so i was probably planning on writing it#alas i have fallen into Dead Tired later#might as well throw it out there and run#feel free to continue!#cork writes#cork prompts
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NSFW!!
TF141- oral (afab!)
Price 🚬:
John is a provider, takes pride in knowing he can take care of you, fulfills all your needs, and has no problem eating you out until you’re a mess. Praises you non-stop, talking you through at least two orgasms before he’d even think to give you his cock (unless of course you guys were on a time crunch). He never asks for you to give him head, but, he also doesn’t stop you from, in your words, ‘returning the favor’. Loves watching you bob up and down his length, keeping your hair out of your face with one hand and cupping your jaw with the other. Curses under his breath when you bat your eyelashes at him, lips wrapped so prettily around his cock, he almost cums right then and there.
“God, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous like this, honey.”
“Such a sweet girl, sucking my cock.”
“Mhm, there ya go, let it out bug, c’mon.”
“Y’taste like heaven, I swear it.”
Simon💀:
Simon is a man starved. Sometimes, he’s shoving his face between your legs, not bothering to slip off your panties and devouring your pussy like it’s essential for him to live. Other times, he practically grabs you by the scruff and barely has a chance to pull out is cock before he’s forcing easing it into your mouth. He craves you, craves your taste, your touch. You’ve woken up at least once with him slurping on your clit and pawing at the fat of your thighs, murmuring thanks and praise into your cunt. He works you open every time, fingers and mouth, preparing you for his cock that you take without a fuss. He teaches you how to give him head, being careful with you at first but after the first few times, he doesn’t even warn you before shoving himself down your throat, watching with a groan as you gag around him.
“Atta girl, you’ve got it…just like that lovie.”
“My girl, mine, mine—“
“Fuckin hell….sensitive little thing, aren’t ya?”
“Ah-ah…C’mere doll, m’ not done with you.”
Johnny🧼:
Johnny is a munch, a tease. He could easily get himself off by eating you out alone. He’d sit there for hours, kissing and sucking and slobbering everywhere, making you cum over and over and over again without even trying before he’d finally let up. Barely gives you a proper breather before he’s tossing you around and teasing your lips with the head of his cock. You oblige, of course. Johnny lets you set the pace, but he’s always testing for more, begging for it so sweetly that you hardly notice he’s balls deep in your mouth. Absolutely makes out with you for a hefty amount of time after you cum in his mouth or he cums in yours. He’s nasty like that. He’s got an insane libido too, and it’s partly why he draws out foreplay so long. That and the fact he love watching you get that dazed look in your eyes.
“Aye, c’mon bunny, ye can take it, c’mon-“
“Shite, baby, pussy’s so fuckin’ good.”
“You gonna cum again? Huh? Know ya are, bon, yer shakin’.”
“Ya with me, peach? S’ that good? Yeah…look at ya..such a beauty.”
Kyle🧢:
Kyle is passionate, worshipping every inch of you like you’re an actual goddess. To him you are. You’d practically have to beg him to actually eat your pussy and not just love on it. He loves it when you take some control, telling him what you want. He swears he falls even more in love with you every time you sink down on your knees in front of him, palming at his hard-on through his pants with those sweet eyes of yours gazing up at him. Is always blown away (no pun intended) when you suck him off, claiming it’s the best head of his life. He’s vocal too, not just babbles of praise falling from his lips, but the most soul-catching moans and groans you’ve ever heard. It made him ten times prettier (as if he could get prettier).
“So beautiful…my beautiful girl…fuck..I love this fuckin’ pussy—“
“Bloody hell baby…god, you’re good..mhmm-“
“Love you, love you so much…never gettin’ rid of me..…”
“That’s it, just like that…fuck—you’re a saint, an angel, I swear.”
A/N: oh my god—THIS WAS DOWNRIGHT FLITH BUT I LOVED WRITING IT!!!
SUE ME I DARE YOU 🫵
#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost smut#captain john price#john price#price x reader#price cod#john price smut#johnny mactavish#johnny soap mactavish#soap cod#johnny mactavish smut#soap smut#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#gaz x reader#gaz smut#kyle garrick smut#cod headcanons#cod x reader#cod smut#tf 141 headcanons#tf141 smut
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Can’t Hold Back
summary: the three times you almost jump eddie, and the one time you do.
word count: 3.7k
request: anon- I NEEEED something about reader being obsessed with Eddies moustache, just her wanting to jump him constantly cos she finds it so hot. Sorry I am so obsessed with the stache it’s unhealthy.
a/n: this was longer than i originally intended, but when i was writing the last part, the urge i have to suck the soul out of this man took over and we got this. i kept thinking about the ring pop scene when he tilts his head back okay?? sue me!! anyway, enjoy<3
warnings: smut, tiny comb slander (affectionately<3), no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader
MDNI- 18+ only!
You remember the first time you saw Eddie’s mustache. You were extremely busy with work, so you hadn’t seen him for a couple weeks. When you finally had time to see each other, he invited you over for dinner, and when he opened the door, you weren’t sure what to do.
He seemed a little nervous to show you, but you quickly reassured him that you liked it. Actually, you fucking loved it, but you felt a little weird about telling him that it made you want to drag him to the bedroom and not come out until the next day.
When he sets down the plate of food in front of you, your mouth waters. With so much newfound free time, he finally forced himself to learn to cook better, and it was definitely paying off. He seems so proud of himself when you take a bite and have to fight back a moan, and as amazing as the food is, you still struggle to finish your plate instead of skipping right to the end of the night.
It doesn’t help that the entire dinner, he’s extremely interested in everything you have to say; excited to finally catch up on everything going on the past few weeks that you insisted you “just had to tell him in person.”
He’s being so attentive and sweet, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
Everytime he touches his mustache, or brings his napkin up to wipe his face, your eyes are glued to his lips. Frankly, you feel a little bit insane for how much you love the new addition to his face. You wonder if he’d be willing to grow a beard as well?
Once dinner is finished, you help him clear the table, and as he rinses the plates in the sink, you lean against the counter beside him. God, he’s even more attractive when he’s not paying attention, you think. He’s rambling on about a call he got the other day at work, and you try to listen intently, but with the way his mouth is moving, every word is pretty much in one ear and out the other.
When he reaches for the dish towel to dry his hands, you move to stand in front of him, slipping your arms around his neck and pulling him against you. Your lips find his quickly, and after he lets out a quiet hum of surprise, his arms are wrapping around your plush middle, keeping you against him as you deepen the kiss.
Just as you start to trail one hand down his chest, desperate to get to his belt, he breaks the kiss. He rests his forehead against yours as he takes in a big breath of air, his eyes sparkling and a big smile on his face. God, he’s missed this.
“I have a surprise.” he tells you softly, as if afraid to disturb the calmness surrounding you two.
“What?” you ask with a grin, although the question begging to fall from your lips is “what the hell could be better than this surprise?”
“They’re playing your favourite movie at the theatre downtown; some kind of anniversary special. I got us tickets.” he tells you excitedly, giddy to see your reaction.
Your smile widens, and you laugh quietly before you pull him back in for a kiss. You mumble a “thank you” against his lips, and when you pull away, he’s grinning almost as widely as you are.
“Anything for you, mi amor.” he tells you earnestly, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the sentiment. You’re a little disappointed; all you wanted was to drag him to bed, or the couch, or honestly, the kitchen counter. But, you are excited about being able to see your favourite movie in the theatre, and he’s so proud of himself. You know you can’t do what you’ve been waiting for since he let you into his house, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less excited about going out with Eddie for the night. Your plans will just have to wait.
You watch with a small smile as Eddie frantically moves around the house, trying to find his wallet and keys so he can get to work. You can see both items from where you’re leaning against the wall near the front door, waiting to see him off. You let him search for a minute before you call his name, and when he turns, his shoulders relax upon setting site on you holding his wallet in one hand, and his keys in the other.
He closes the distance between you and grabs the keys from your hand, then raises his other hand to cup your cheek and bring his lips to your forehead. You close your eyes for a moment as he presses a soft kiss to your skin, wishing he didn’t have to leave so soon.
“What would I do without you, mi amor?” he murmurs fondly when he pulls away. He takes a moment to scan your face, taking in the small smile on your lips, and the sparkle in your eyes, and he silently thanks God that you’re in his life.
“I love you.” he finally says, then drops his hand from your cheek and makes his way toward the front door.
“Forgetting something?” you ask with a smirk when he opens the front door. He turns to you with a confused look, then makes his way back over to you slowly. He pulls you into him by the flesh of your hips, giving you a deep kiss. You feel his mustache tickle your skin, and you smile into the kiss, feeling his panic about being late temporarily melt away as he focuses on you.
When he pulls away, he gives you a wink, then turns again towards the door. You laugh softly as you roll your eyes; is that seriously what he thought he forgot? If he weren’t actually so late, you’d let him get all the way to his truck before you speak up again.
“Eddie,” you say with a laugh, trying to get his attention. “I meant your wallet, but I love where your mind went.” you tease when he turns to you again. His brows are furrowed, and when he sees you still holding his wallet in your hand, you see the redness appear in his cheeks. He covers his slight embarrassment up with a chuckle, then reaches out and takes his wallet.
“Then I guess I forgot two things.” he says, trying to cover up his mistake with a cocky smirk. You shake your head, the smile stuck on your face as you narrow your eyes.
He takes the extra time to press another kiss to your lips, this one deeper, and your knees almost buckle when his hand comes up to lightly grip your throat. You try to chase his lips when he pulls back, but he holds your head back with that same smirk etched on his face.
God, if it weren’t for his shift in 10 minutes, you’d be pushing him over to the couch and sinking to your knees in front of him. How the hell was he able to turn the tables so quickly? One second he’s embarrassed, and the next he has the heat rushing to your cheeks and your heart hammering in your chest.
“I love you.” he tells you again, and you nod, swallowing as you stare into his eyes. Your eyes trail down to the hair above his upper lip, and you lick your lips. How can a mustache be this attractive? All you want to do is keep him home all day and show him just how much you like the new facial hair he’s sporting.
“I love you.” you murmur, and then he’s gone; out the door and in his truck before you can react. Motherfucker, you think, he knows what he’s doing.
“Eds, have you seen my necklace?” you call from the bedroom. You know you wore it to his house; you remember making sure it was facing the right way last night when you were in his bathroom before dinner. Even so, you’ve looked everywhere, and it’s nowhere to be found.
“It’s in here!” he calls back from his bathroom, and you let out a relieved sigh. The necklace isn’t expensive or sentimental or anything, but it is one of your favourites.
You let out a laugh when you walk into the bathroom, seeing the smallest comb you think you’ve ever seen, looking even smaller in Eddie’s large hands. He turns to you with a frown, his brows furrowed.
“Yeah, keep laughing. I’ll remember this the next time you tell me how much you love how soft it is.” he says with a scoff, a teasing glint in his eyes. You laugh softly, shaking your head as you walk further into the bathroom and grab your necklace off the counter.
He has a point, you guess. You do love how it feels against your skin when his lips are on yours, or when he’s nipping at your neck, or when he’s pressing open mouth kisses to your inner thighs.
You feel desire pooling in your stomach as you think about it, but you try to ignore it as you look at yourself in the mirror and clasp your necklace around your neck.
You’re very sure that he keeps using the stupid little comb for longer than he should as you stand there fiddling with your necklace. Surely it doesn’t take more than 3 swipes with the comb to do whatever the hell he thinks he’ll accomplish with it.
You can’t help the small laugh that tumbles out of your mouth as you shake your head, trying to snap out of the weird trance Eddie has you in. How can him using a goddamn mini comb be so attractive? It doesn’t help that he’s wearing his LAFD shirt, and it’s just tight enough to show the outline of his chest.
“What?” he asks when your laugh hits his ears. You hum softly, shaking your head as you fight back a smile.
“Nothing, nothing.” you try to wave him off, finally tearing your attention back to your necklace and securing it around your neck.
He narrows his eyes at you, and you both make eye contact through the mirror, but neither of you say another word. You take a step back as he leans away from the mirror and stands up straight, and you can’t fight the loud giggle you let out when you see that he not only has a tiny comb, but a tiny holder for his tiny comb.
“What the hell is that?” you ask through giggles, and he sighs, rolling his eyes.
“Well, I don’t wanna lose it, do I?” he replies, as if that’s a perfectly reasonable answer.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how important your little comb is.” you tease. Tiny comb and holder aside, he looks incredibly good today. The worst part is, you have a while before either of you have to leave for the day, and you can’t even take advantage of the situation. If you were to throw yourself at him right now, he’d never let you forget that his tiny comb that you made fun of him for couldn’t even stop you from still wanting him.
You’re at the grocery store with Eddie when you hear a scream from a few aisles over, then a frantic voice yelling for help. You freeze for a moment, your heart rate spiking and your hair standing on end, but when Eddie races out of the aisle and towards the situation, you snap out of it.
You follow him, cart momentarily forgotten as you jog in the direction Eddie ran in. When you make it to the aisle, you see an older man passed out on the floor, and a woman is standing over him in tears while Eddie checks his pulse.
You can hardly hear anything when Eddie turns to you, and it’s only when he waves his hand in front of his face that you can hear him. You blink a few times, then reach into your purse with shaky hands to grab your phone and dial 9-1-1 like Eddie asked.
You kneel beside him and put the phone on speaker, holding it out in front of him so he can speak to the dispatcher. As Eddie continues to assess the man while speaking to the dispatcher, another man kneels down on the other side of the older man, trying to tell Eddie what to do.
Eddie explains to him that he doesn’t need help calmly, and you’re not sure how he can remain so mellow right now, even if this is his job. Your hands are shaking, and all you’re doing is holding the phone.
The man continues to try to help, doing what you assume is everything wrong, because after a moment, Eddie erupts.
“Back up. You’re making it worse. I’m not gonna let him die because of you.” The man raises his hands in surrender, then slowly stands up and backs up. You watch as Eddie goes back to tending to the man, licking your lips in a desperate attempt to wet your dry lips.
You feel extremely guilty, but the way Eddie just takes over has you too aware of everything around you. You can feel the thin layer of sweat on your skin from the stress, you can feel your heart beating in your chest, and you can feel the way Eddie’s thigh is touching the outside of yours. This is definitely not the time, but he’s just so smart, so capable.
You finally snap out of it when the paramedics come in, tapping your shoulder gently to urge you to move out of their way. You hang up the phone haphazardly as you stand up, feeling Eddie’s arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting on your hip and pulling you against him as he backs the both of you up to give the paramedics even more room.
You can feel Eddie’s breath on your neck when he leans his head towards you and whispers into your ear.
“Are you okay, baby?” You shiver at the sensation, nodding quickly as you blink a few times. “He’s gonna be okay. He just has low blood sugar, he just needs a glucagon shot.”
He thinks you’re on edge because of the man, and while you are worried about him, you know that Eddie knows what to do, that he’d be able to help him.
You both make your way back to the aisle you were in when you heard the scream and bring your cart up to the front in silence, neither of you remembering that you still have a few more groceries to get.
When you’re finally out of the store and the groceries are in his car, you check around you, smirking to yourself when you see no one in sight. You’re lucky that Eddie parks so far away from the doors; not wanting to risk anyone hitting his car and damaging the paint. You definitely don’t want anyone to see this.
Your lips are on his in an instant, your hands cupping his face as you push him back a step so his back hits the side of his truck. He hums in surprise, then melts into the kiss, raising one hand to your jaw while the other holds you by the waist.
“That was so hot.” you whisper against his lips, your kiss growing sloppy and needy. He chuckles against your lips, then slips his tongue past your lips to explore your mouth, savouring your taste. You can feel his facial hair along your skin, and it makes you shiver. He was right about that stupid comb. His mustache is extremely soft, with just the right amount of scratchiness that makes your head spin.
“Yeah?” he asks in a cocky tone against your lips, barely registering that you’re practically throwing yourself at him in the middle of the grocery store parking lot. You hum softly, nodding as much as you can with your lips glued to his.
The only thing that snaps him out of his daze is your hands moving down to his belt. He pulls back, chest heaving as he looks into your hooded eyes, pupils blown and full of lust.
“I think we should get home before we get arrested.” he teases you softly, and although you know he’s right, the thought of having to wait makes you whine softly.
You part from him reluctantly, then get into the passenger seat while Eddie returns the cart. When he’s back in the car and on the way back to your place, you reach over and place a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to the growing tent in his pants.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks lowly, a playful smirk on his face as he glances over at you, his eyes narrowed. You shrug, humming softly as you drag your nails up and down the fabric of his jeans.
He’s about to respond when you move your hand directly over his cock, growing harder with each passing moment. A strangled gasp escapes his throat, and his grip tightens on the wheel, knuckles white as you slowly palm him through his jeans.
“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” he asks, his breathing growing more ragged and his tone changing to one of warning. You bite your lip, a small smile peeking out as you add more pressure, moving your palm against him achingly slowly.
“Just wanna show you how much I love you.” you reply sweetly. He knows he shouldn’t be letting you do this, he has to get you both home safely, but he can’t seem to say the words, or pull your hand away. You know exactly what to do to get him worked up, and right now, he’s cursing that fact.
He lets out a low groan when you reach your other hand over the centre console, now working on undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He keeps his eyes glued to the road, his grip on the wheel as tight as it can be as you pull out his leaking cock.
You spit into your hand before you grip the base of his cock, pumping him a few times as you watch the way his face twists in pleasure. You can tell he’s torn between wanting you to continue, and knowing you shouldn’t, and that’s what makes it fun.
He shivers when you ghost your thumb over the tip of his cock, then increase the pace of your movements, pumping him in a way that makes him sure that he won’t be able to stop you even if he tries.
“You think I can get you to cum before we get home?” you ask in a teasing tone, a hint of condescension in your voice that has him fighting hard to keep his eyes open and on the road.
“I know you can.” he mumbles, and you laugh softly, keeping up the pace as you look down at his leaking cock.
Your mouth waters at the sight, and after a few more pumps, you unbuckle your seatbelt with the other hand, then lean over the centre console and bring the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him greedily.
He lets out a shuddered moan, and one of his hands comes down to rest on the back of your head. With your mouth and your hand on him, he’s sure he won’t last much longer, especially when the possibility of being caught is looming in the back of his mind.
You hum softly as you taste the bit of precum on your tongue, and he lets out a quiet growl as the vibrations shoot up his spine. He can feel his balls tighten as you take more of him into your mouth, switching between moving further down his cock and giving the tip of his cock soft licks.
As he pulls onto your street, he cums hard with no warning, making you gag slightly around him as you try to catch all of your release in your mouth. You slow the movements of your hand as you swallow his load, and when you’re sure you’ve gotten it all, you sit back up, a big grin on your face.
When he finally parks in your driveway, he looks over at you in a daze, a smirk on his face as he takes in your puffy lips. He reaches over with one hand and wipes off a bit of his cum on your chin, then raises his thumb up to your lips. You open your mouth eagerly, licking his thumb clean before you smile again, and he feels his heart hammering in his chest at the sight.
“Told you that was hot.” you tell him, and he chuckles, shaking his head at how proud of yourself you look. And for good reason.
“Almost as hot as that was.” he replies with a cocky smirk, and you lick your lips, feeling the desire pooling between your legs growing with each passing moment.
“I think we should skip dinner tonight.” Eddie says after a moment of just you two staring at each other.
Once he’s tucked himself back into his pants, you’re both out of the car in an instant, groceries long forgotten as you both make your way inside, trying and failing to keep your hands to yourself until you’re behind closed doors.
When you finally get inside, Eddie has you against the wall, pressing hot kisses to your neck as he works to unbutton your jeans.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” he whispers against your neck, the hairs of his mustache tickling you as he gives your jeans a firm tug.
When you finally make it to the bed, you feel overwhelmed with his touch, and his kisses, and his praise, and you’re silently thanking anyone that will listen for making him grow that mustache, stupid comb and all.
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i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.



ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER
summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.
warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!
author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes
also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!
DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u? false accusations r rude, steve.
You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally.
Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.”
Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought.
But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’
You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work.
Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago.
Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.
Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked.
You weren’t special.
Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him.
So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything.
DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?
Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.
Too late.
no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart. why would i lie?
You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.
You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you.
“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him.
Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.
Shit.
“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.
“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration.
“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit.
“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you.
“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”
Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?”
With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.
“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’
“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song.
“The song?” He nods in confirmation.
“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.
He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—”
“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.
“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips.
A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”
He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.
Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.
“You’re annoying.”
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.
“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.
“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips.
“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest.
“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?”
“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates.
“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases.
Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”
“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words.
“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.
But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?”
“What? What guy?”
“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.
“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”
“Are you stalking me, Munson?”
“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.
You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane.
But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about?
Say my name and his in the same breath.
I dare you to say they taste the same.
The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?
Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?”
Say my name and his in the same breath.
“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
I dare you to say they taste the same.
And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.
“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t.
And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are.
“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie.
That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.
“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.
And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you.
Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”
“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway.
“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him.
You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.
He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.
“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode.
“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch.
He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you.
He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt.
The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore.
He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.
Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?”
You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you.
His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.
Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”
You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again.
That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever.
“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips.
And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer.
Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum.
You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”
“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before.
“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”
“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.
“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”
“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him.
Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.
“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him.
“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him.
Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time.
He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different.
Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you.
“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you.
“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him.
“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it.
“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses.
You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”
His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins.
“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.
And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?
“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair.
Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again.
But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug.
Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in.
He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.
Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”
“The song…”
“I told you I liked it.”
His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”
“I did.”
“And?”
Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”
“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.
“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead.
“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath.
Was he… actually gonna do this?
“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod.
“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.
“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach.
“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.
You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.”
“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body.
He felt the same way.
Eddie felt the same way.
“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.
“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that.
“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.” His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears.
“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh.
“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back.
“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.
“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.
The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.
Everything he wanted and more.
He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”
You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”
“So, does that mean we're dating now?”
“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”
“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff.
He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”
“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!”
He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”
You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”
“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”
That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.
“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.
He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson
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