#we go in circles and she talks and talks and talks and i don’t even get to talk as much lmfao

[mishappeningss]

We already know about grid's relationship with her but how about off grid celebrities and famous people's relationship with her? Like she's making history left and right here, there's no way that fashion houses or famous brands won't want to work with her. She's talented, hot, famous, beautiful and has this amazing energy...

oh totallyyy, everyone off grid is into her. fashion brands are all over her, celebs and popstars show up to races to support her and her team 😩

she’s got the whole package — talent, looks, vibes — no wonder everyone wants to work w her

more about driver!yn

We all know the paddock is obsessed with her. They all follow her around like lost puppies, reposting her podium pictures, they’re shouting her name out — we get it, they love her.

But outside of the paddock? Off-grid celebrities are adoring her too. She’s not just an F1 driver anymore, she’s become a full on icon. People who don’t even watch races know her name.

The fashion world, Hollywood, the music industry, and luxury brands are tripping over themselves to work with her.

First of all, the fashion world has already claimed her. Like fully adopted her as one of their own. She’s front row at fashion week whenever she’s not racing — sitting next to big names like it’s casual — wearing custom looks aren’t even available to the public yet.

Dior, Balenciaga, Gucci — you name it — they’re all sending her pieces months in advance. And she wears them like she was born for it. Some look awkward in customs but her? Never.

She shows up in a structured bodysuit with a long train and she still looks like she could jump into a car and win a race.

She’s done campaigns for LV and Rolex, and rumor has it she’s co-designing a racing inspired capsule with Coperni. Fashion girls love her because she’s effortless. She doesn’t try — she just is.

And then you’ve got the luxury brand side — which is also obsessed with her. She’s the face of multiple campaigns as we speak — stuff like skincare, watches, tech drops, fragrances — and they all fit her because she lives that high performance lifestyle.

She’s not the person who’s pretending to care about hydration or fitness or travel, because that’s literally her daily life. So when Rolex puts her in a campaign about ‘Precision under pressure’? It hits.

Or when Estée Lauder drops a serum collab and she’s like, “This is what I wear before race week” — people believe her. She’s got credibility and influence.

And Hollywood? Don’t even get me started. She’s become the girl everyone wants to hang out with. She’s being invited to all these private dinners and post-award show parties with Mike Faist, Hailee Steinfeld, Riley Keough… and she fits.

She walks into a room full of A-listers and she’s not intimidated — she’s the one they’re all circling around. There’s whispers about her getting film offers, documentaries, maybe even a sports biopic.

She’s that rare mix of inspiring and intimidating — the type that actors and filmmakers want to write about.

And the music industry? Unreal. Dua Lipa’s been seen at her races, Raye posted her with the caption “My hero,” and there’s this clip of her dancing with Harry Styles after a GP and fans lost their minds.

Countless artists allegedly tried to get her appear in their music videos. The Weeknd reposted one of her wins with a flame emoji… and it’s not just admiration.

They respect her. They see her as someone who’s breaking boundaries, not just in sport, but in the way she carries herself. She’s confident, she’s chill, and she’s not desperate for attention — which makes her even more magnetic.

And I think what really seals it is that she’s still herself through all of it. Like she’ll go from launching a designer collab to fighting for her life in the track. She’s not losing that grounded, authentic vibe, she’s not trying to be someone else to fit into spaces.

And fans feel it too — she’s not just being hyped for being attractive or famous. She’s loved for being who she is, how she talks, and what she represents.

[flemingsfreckles]

Muscles (18+)

Synopsis: inspired by the middle photo

Warnings: smut! strap on use (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), oral sex (r receiving), dirty talk, teasing, sex against the wall

WC: 7.5k

A/N: I’m just gonna leave this here… I wrote it a while back and decided I should finally share it

“Seriously?”

Pausing mid movement Jessie turns and looks up at you. Her body in a plank position as she halts her exercise. “What?”

“You know what you’re doing.” You cross your arms against your chest, letting out a puff of air as you lean back into the couch.

Jessie’s eyes flash around the room before meeting yours again. “I’m not doing anything.” She sits back onto her knees, rolling her shoulders back a few times.

“Oh, so you just came home sweaty from training, decided to come do pushups in front of me with your arms on display in that training top, for what?”

You had been sitting on the couch when Jessie got home from training, you’d been a little surprised to see her donning the tank top training shirt, she tended to wear the shirt or even jacket no matter the weather. You weren’t about to complain, you loved her arms. But you also knew better than to comment on your appreciation of them, you’d scare her back into a long sleeve shirt for the rest of the season.

She’d planted a quick kiss on your lips before sitting down on the floor in front of you, still sweaty. The two of you chatted for a moment catching each other up on your day before you returned your attention to the book in your lap.

It was then that you noticed Jessie starting to move around. It started with a few stretches, arm circles, rubbing out her shoulders, the movements had caught your eye, but only briefly. It was when you started noticing her up and down movement over the top of your book that you put it down to look at what she was doing. She was doing push ups.

“Just a little extra workout.” Jessie claims but the way she’s looking at you with a small smirk tells you it was for more than just “a little workout”.

“Sure.” You watch as Jessie, still smirking, puts her hands on the ground again, beginning to lift her body. You watch her complete another few push ups, your eyes unable to focus on anything besides her shoulders and biceps, the way they flexed, bulged, and moved with each repetition. It was such a simple thing, her arms but the longer you stared at them, the more you could feel the desire growing in your stomach.

Trying your best to ignore Jessie, you look back to your book, reading sentences over and over, unable to comprehend them with the sight and sound of your girlfriend working out in front of you. Snapping yourself out of your thoughts you slam your book closed, place it on the table and promptly move to the kitchen with a frustrated huff.

“Oh come on babe.” You hear Jessie quickly stand up, her footsteps on the hardwood behind you.

“No, you’re welcome to go workout, but you’re also being a tease.” You sent her a stare.

“I’m not.” Jessie claimed, lying through her smirk.

“You are, you know how I feel about your arms,” Your arms flail gesturing toward her exposed arms, “Putting them on display, that’s teasing me with them.”

“But it doesn’t have to just be a tease.” Jessie smirks, her hands finding your waist and pulling you toward her.

You try to step away from her, but her fingers dig slightly into your hips, you can feel her biceps flexing as she holds you in place. You put a hand on her chest, pushing against her. “Yes it does, because we have dinner plans with my parents in case you forgot.”

You watch as she glances at the microwave, reading the time. “We have time.” She suggests with an eyebrow raise. Leaning forward she places a soft kiss onto your lips.

“No, we don’t.” You argue when she pulls back.

“We do.” Her voice is now a low whisper against your ear as she actively tries to convince you. Her head drops lower as she begins to kiss just under your ear, slowly descending down your neck. Her hands slide down from your hips to your thighs, her fingers gripping your legs tightly before a faint “jump” is mumbled against your neck. You obey, your mind in a trance from the feeling of her lips.

You give a small hop and Jessie’s hands tightly hold your thighs. She holds you in her arms, unassisted for a minute before you wrap your legs around her waist. Taking a few steps she adjusts until you’re against the kitchen counter before she dips her head again allowing her lips to find your neck.

For a moment you almost give in, reveling in the feeling of her lips on your sensitive skin. Her breath, her little satisied moans, her soft whispering all have you convinced, until you remember last time the two of you “had time”.

“No Jess.” It comes out more breathless than you would’ve liked, your hand finds her shoulder and you push her back more firmly. She removes her lips, giving you a disappointed frown. “Don’t blame me, you’re the one who made us late to dinner last time because you thought we had enough time.”

“We did have enough time technically,” Jessie pauses and shrugs, “it was the second round, which I remember someone begging for, that made us late.”

“Well it’s fine when it’s with friends, but I’m not letting my parents know I was late because of sex.” You lean back your hands resting against the cool countertop.

“They know we have sex, we live together.” You sit up, reaching your hand to quickly cover Jessie's mouth.

“Stop.” You remove your hand from her mouth. “Don’t mention our sex life and my parents in the same sentence.”

Jessie lets out a soft giggle, her fingers lightening up on their pressure as she pushes herself back from you slightly. “Fine.”

You plant a quick peck to her nose, licking your lips as you pull away. “You’re lucky you don’t reek, you taste like sweat, you need to shower.”

“Want to find out what else I taste like?” A giant grin breaks on the Canadian’s face as she leans in closer to you.

“Jess, go.” You shove her with one hand before she can kiss you, your other hand points in the direction of your bedroom and adjoined bathroom.

She throws her hands up. “Okay, I’m going, I’m going.” Giving you one last playful eye roll, she turns heading down the hall.

You followed Jessie shortly after into the bedroom, rummaging through the closet to find something to wear. Opting for simple you throw on a simple skirt and top.

You hear the shower stop and seconds later the sight of your girlfriend, towel wrapped around her body, her fingers running through her wet hair appears in the mirror behind you. You can feel her eyes scanning over your body through the mirror.

She comes up behind you, leaning her face down so you can feel her breath along your neck. “You look beautiful.” She whispers before kissing the column of your neck.

“Thank you baby.” You turn around, satisfied with your own appearance.

Jessie’s eyes continue to take in your appearance, slowly dragging from your legs to your face and back down. “I’m so lucky.” The words come out under Jessie’s breath as if it’s a thought that somehow escaped.

“Alright sappy, get dressed, we have to leave soon.” You put your hands on her shoulders, pushing her toward her dresser.

While you’d loved to have stayed home and let Jessie have her way with you, dinner was nice. You couldn’t complain about getting to see your parents, you were lucky to be able to have dinner with them frequently and to bring your girlfriend along.

The four of you ordered, continuing to catch each other up on your lives, Jessie talking with your Dad, you chatting with your Mom.

“Right?” Jessie’s fingers gently touch your forearm, pulling your attention away from the conversation you were having with your mom.

“Hmmm, sorry, what?” You turn to face Jessie, not hearing her initial question.

“Your dad and I were just saying it’s a bit warmer in here than we expected.”

“Oh, I guess.” You give Jessie a unsure look, not knowing why she felt the need to check the temperature with you. Just as you start to turn back to speak to your mom she stands up, her eyes remaining locked on yours as she reaches for her jacket.

Your mouth goes dry, the polite smile drops from your face as you watch Jessie remove her jacket, placing it behind her on the chair. She was doing it on purpose, you knew it. You could feel your cheeks slowly burn, knowing you weren’t going to be able to hide the way you blushed staring at Jessie, more specifically staring at her arms.

The shirt she’d picked out was tight, it was one you loved on her, but in the moment you wish she’d worn anything else. The simple shirt laid perfectly across her shoulders, hugging in all the right places before the short sleeves cuffed tightly around her biceps.

She shot you a sweet smile before returning her attention to your Dad picking up back in their conversation. You Mom has to call your name twice before you hear her over the sound of your mind running through every inappropriate thing you wanted your girlfriend to do to you.

You spend the rest of the evening shifting uncomfortably in your chair trying to ignore the hunger growing in your core. While you were doing everything you can to avoid catching a glimpse of Jessie and her perfectly toned arms, Jessie was making every attempt to put them in front of you. Reaching across for the salt, then for a napkin, leaning over to press her body into yours, teasing you at every moment she got.

By the time you climbed into the passenger seat to head home it felt as if every nerve in your body was on fire. Out of habit Jessie’s hand finds its way to your thigh, resting gently and giving a soft squeeze. “You okay?”

“Fine.” The word is bitter in your mouth, a tone that told Jessie you weren’t fine, you weren’t happy with her. The constant teasing through out the day had left you frustrated, sexually and now just in general.

“You were just a bit quiet at dinner.”

“I’m fine.” You snap back, leaving the two of you in silence for the remainder of the drive home.

When the door closes behind both of you Jessie takes off her jacket, slowly peeling it from her shoulders in the same display that she did at the restaurant.

She winks at you when she notices you watching. Rolling your eyes you let out your frustrations, “Fuck you for wearing that shirt.” The language is harsh but you only partially mean it. “And fuck you for taking the jacket off, it wasn’t that hot out.”

“Oh, come on, you like it.” Jessie runs her hands down her own chest, emphasizing the way it hugged her figure.

“I do, what I don’t like is being teased all day by your muscles.” You take off your shoes, giving them a harsh kick toward the door before storming off.

“Oh, babyyy. I’m so sorry.” The exaggerated pout on Jessie’s feels disingenuous.

“No, you’re not.” You make your way into the living room, sitting back on the same couch where Jessie had started her teasing that afternoon. Following you over, Jessie stands in front of you, bending over to put her face by yours.

“Come on,” she plants a kiss on each of your cheeks, “let me make it up to you.” You watch as she slowly drops to her knees in front of you, her hands finding your knees. She’s looking up at you with a pleading stare, her brown eyes begging you to give in. “Reward my good girl for putting up with my teasing.” Her fingers begin to wander from your knees up your thighs at a painfully slow pace.

You try to remain calm, not give in to Jessie. Keeping a stoic expression on your face, you remained motionless on the couch as Jessie’s fingers continued to move closer and closer to the bottom of your skirt. You kept your arms folded across your chest, staring back at her, fighting your every urge to give in. It would be impossible to hide how she was affecting you, you could already feel your breathing quicken at the gentle touch of her fingertips.

“Please.” Jessie politely begs as the soft pads of her fingers just barely disappeared under the fabric of your skirt, she pauses them, waiting to go further until she has your permission.

You wanted to tease her back, make her wait, not let her get the satisfaction of seeing how worked up she had gotten you. You close your eyes for a minute and you think you’ll maybe be able to resist, but when you open your eyes you’re met with Jessie’s lust filled eyes, her bottom lip pulled tightly between her teeth. You wanted to resist, but you couldn’t resist her when she was on her knees begging. “Please, let me make it up to you.” She repeats with a kiss to each knee, her eyes never leaving yours.

You also couldn’t deny yourself. You’d been eager to have her pleasing you since she had lifted you onto the kitchen counter, and again when she had taken her jacket off at dinner, and when she reached across you to pass your mom the salt. So instead of denying her, making her wait, making her sit in the bed she had made, you nod down at her.

Jessie’s eyes light up as she watches your head nod. Her fingers immediately find the waist of your panties under your skirt. “Yeah?” She pauses for a moment waiting for second confirmation.

Nodding again you give her permission. “Make it up to me.”

At your word, Jessie’s fingers begin pulling the fabric, when they don’t slide down your legs she looks up to you again. Despite being the teaser all day it’s now her who looks desperate. You lift your hips and she swiftly pulls the fabric down your thighs.

“Oh, someone’s been waiting so patiently.” Jessie says, staring at the notable wet spot on the fabric. You just let out a grumble, sick of her teasing, reaching out and putting your hand firmly on the back of her head, pulling her between your legs.

She lets you guide your face to where you sat dripping waiting for her. Only giving a quick kiss to your core before pulling slightly back. Her hands find the bottom of your thighs, gripping them slightly before pulling you toward the end of the couch, giving her better access. She spreads your thighs, using her strength to keep them open. “You’re soaked.”

“Thanks Captain Obvious.” You respond with a slight roll of your eyes and a straight faced expression. If she kept up with her teasing much longer you were prepared to shove her away and make use of the toys in your bedroom.

“All mine, this pussy is all mine.” She whispers, hardly acknowledging your frustration. Her tongue traces her lips, wetting them before she softly kisses the crease of your inner thigh, so close to where you needed her.

“Maybe you need to prove it, just staring at it doesn’t make it yours.” You squint down at her, despite already being in a compromising position, you didn’t care, may as well edge her on more.

If Jessie had ignored your previous side comments, that one certainly got her attention. You felt her fingertips dig into your thighs and she shot a glare up at you. “It’s mine.” Her teasing demeanor is gone, she’s now serious. “I’m the one who gets to touch and taste it. I’m the one who gets to fuck it. I’m the one who makes it drip.” She emphasizes her point by bringing a finger to your entrance, coating her finger in your arousal and holding it up to you. “It’s mine.”

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, as if time stops, you’re both silent, and then she gives in. Her face dipping under the fabric of your skirt and you feel her breath on you before the feeling of her tongue and lips.

The heat is the first thing you feel, the warmth of her tongue and mouth, hot and wet along your arousal. Your hand remains on the back of her head, no longer pushing but resting as she works, a satisfied rumble coming from her chest as she gets her first direct taste of you.

Her tongue starts soft, running over your lips, without purpose. It’s as if she’s exploring you for the first time. She briefly catches her tongue on your clit before moving away. Your hips chase her tongue, shifting, trying to put her where you want her. Your free hand is clenched tightly on the throw pillow next to you, the grip on her hair increasing in strength with every moment she doesn’t focus on your clit.

“Babe.” You whine when she still doesn’t give in to your instructions, her tongue continuing to flirt around the nerves you so badly needed her to focus on. “Please.”

You toss your head back into the couch cushions as she finally gives in to you, her soft lips sealing around your clit, giving it slow and gentle licks. “Right there Jess.” Her name comes out of your mouth like a sigh of relief.

You can already tell you won’t last long, between the full day of rising tension and lust, her tongue and lips doing exactly the right things to you, it would only be a few minutes before you came crashing down.

Jessie knew that too. She couldn’t even see you from under your skirt but she knew your body, she knew the signs you were getting close. It was in the way your hips gently rocked into her mouth, how your grip in her hair would tighten then relax only to tighten again shortly after. She could hear it in your moans that began to fade into whines, how your breathing was becoming audible to her, she had you exactly where she wanted you.

A telling whine made its way through your lips and you felt Jessie lift your skirt off of her head, pushing it up toward your stomach, allowing her to make eye contact with you. It’s a deep gaze, her brown eyes looking up at you, heavy with desire.

“I’m going cum.” You’re able to squeak out the words and with the slight nod of her head, Jessie gives you confirmation to let go, to fall apart on her tongue.

Your orgasm washes over you quickly, your eyes slamming shut as you throw your head back into the couch. Your thighs fight to close around Jessie’s head, her hands keeping them from shutting. Jessie doesn’t slow much, her tongue continuing to flick despite your writhing below her. Her hair was being tightly held between your fingers as you fought yourself between wanting to push her away and also pull her incredibly close.

One of your hands moves to her forehead, pushing hard. “Fuck, fuck, Jess, too much.” With your word Jessie pulls her mouth off of you with a slight pop.

You take a deep breath, steadying your breathing for a minute. When you lift your head back up and open your eyes she’s already staring at you. She looks from you, down between your still spread legs and you watch as a smug grin grows on her face. Feeling small under her gaze you go to close your legs only to be met with the same resistance of her hands, holding you open and on display for her.

“So…” she starts, staring at your core for another minute before lifting her gaze back to your face. “does the cum on the couch, from the orgasm I just gave you prove that you and your pussy are mine, or maybe the fact that my face is covered in your cum?”

You cross your arms across your chest, rolling your eyes at her once again. “Sure.”

“You don’t seem too convinced.” Jessie stands up from where she had been kneeling before you. She leans down her arms wrapping around your midsection. “I can fix that.”

With a gentle pull, and a small yelp from you, Jessie picks you up nearly effortlessly, tossing you over her shoulder, one hand resting on your back, the other on your ass, holding you steady. She marches the two of you down the hall, turning into your bedroom.

In a gentle toss, you land on your back on the mattress, staring up at Jessie as she pulls her shirt off, leaving her torso and shoulders on display to you. You quickly do the same, just as you finish removing your shirt Jessie’s hands are on your skirt pulling it down and off of you.

Sitting up your hands reach out toward her shoulders, you run your fingers over the tight muscles, dragging downward toward her biceps, taking a second to circle her tattoo with the pad of your thumb. “I love you, I love your arms. You’re so hot.”

Rolling her eyes, Jessie pushes your hands off her arms, taking both of your wrists into her left hand. Her right hand pushes softly at the middle of your chest, putting you on your back.

Jessie wastes no more time before diving back in. Your only moment to relax was the short walk from the couch to the bed. you were still sensitive, the sensation causing you to squirm below her. Her right hand holds firm on your hip as her left hand is still clasped around both of your wrists, holding them to your stomach.

Her tongue immediately returns to the nerves that had you falling apart on the couch. Nothing but a whine is able to come from your throat at the suddenly overwhelming stimulation. Your hands try to grab at her, twisting in her grip that she only tightens, reminding you of the strength her arms and hands posses.

When your hips start to lift from the bed, Jessie’s hand quickly releases yours, both of her palms now coming to your hips, gently resting there. The next time you attempt to grind into her mouth, the grip on your hands is no longer gentle, instead she holds you firmly to the mattress, resulting in a frustrated whine leaving your mouth.

“Jess, fuck.” Your hips bucked now trying to pull away from her tongue. “I can’t.” Your hands are threaded in her hair, tugging in hopes she’ll let up, for even a moment to catch your breath.

You get your moment to breathe when Jessie pulls her mouth off of your core. “You can, I know you can, you’ve done it before.” She encourages before returning to please and also torture you.

You feel like your body is on fire, you’re too hot, almost uncomfortable to a degree, but also you can’t ask her to stop. It felt too good, too much, you could barely form a thought let alone utter words. All that you managed were small cries.

“Breathe, baby.” Jessie reminds you quickly. You hadn’t been able to control your breathing since she started, you could feel how fast your chest was rising, only more noticeable as Jessie placed her hand in the middle of your chest.

Trying to focus on your breathing was harder than it seemed, all your attention being drawn to Jessie’s mouth on you. You quickly had even more occupying your brain as Jessie’s right hand left your hip and found its way between your thighs. Her fingers drag through your slick before she slowly pushes two of them inside.

Two fingers wasn’t new to you, Jessie would often use three, or her strap, but suddenly two fingers made you feel so full. You could feel her slight curl with each thrust, pushing against you in the most satisfying way. A deep groan rose in your chest and you could feel Jessie smirk against you as it echoed in your bedroom.

Between the slow but powerful drag of her fingers inside of you and her tongue’s delicate circles, you weren’t able to hold on. Your orgasm came almost as a surprise, building so suddenly and then crashing upon you hard.

Both of your hands reached for her head, your grip once again tights in her hair, you felt Jessie moan against you in response, only adding to your stimulation. The wave of heat and pleasure raced through your whole body, you clamped down tightly around her fingers, pulsing as she continued to thrust up into you. Your breath caught in your throat as she worked you down, pulling off only when your hands pushed her away.

She slowly retreated her fingers, you could hear how wet she’d made you and you got even more proof when Jessie pulled back, her chin and lips covered in your cum. Making eye contact with you she slipped her fingers into her mouth, making a show of cleaning them off while moaning in appreciation at the taste of you.

Your hands come to cover your face, softly rubbing your skin, moving the baby hairs off of your slightly sweaty skin. “Fuck.”

“You okay?” Looking up from between your legs, Jessie smiles as she asks. Her hand still resting in the middle of your chest draws lazy circles on your skin, helping your breathing settle back to a normal pace.

“What do you think?” Jessie just shrugs. “Jess, that was one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.” It was, Jessie satisfied you regularly, but something about two orgasms after a full day of teasing ranked it near the top of the best sex you’d had.

You reach out, your hands finding either side of Jessie’s face and you pull her onto you. You wanted her lips on yours, despite all the sex you’d hardly kissed her. She obliged, slowly kissing you, her tongue running along your lips, soft bites and tugs to your bottom lip. Your legs wrap around her waist, holding her there. It felt like you could kiss her forever, just like this, naked underneath her.

“I love you.” You whisper before placing a few more kisses to her lips.

She returned the proclamation. “I love you.” Giving you one final deep kiss before pulling her lips off yours.

“Nooo, stay.” You whine and reach out trying to get a hold of Jessie as she lifts her body up her hands reaching to unlatch your legs from her waist as she moves away from you.

She lets out a small laugh, “Oh baby, did you actually think I was done? I’m not done with you.” She moves to her dresser, bending down to open the bottom drawer, the drawer filled with toys. It’s only a moment later when Jessie comes back to you, now sporting a harness around her thighs and hips. “Just needed to get this.” She emphasizes her words by gently stroking the strap.

You loved the sights of her wearing the strap. You’d both been unsure the first few attempts with it, but the more you tried the more comfortable you both became with it and now you loved it. Jessie loved getting to thrust into you, watching the way your body would bounce with the force, she loved watching you stretch around the toy, just for her. Most of all she loved watching you cum on her strap, she loved it so much she was convinced she could feel it sometimes.

You equally loved the toy, feeling so full of your girlfriend, letting her take control, but what you loved was watching Jessie’s brain melt as you rode her, putting on a show every time you did, and when you did it right, grinding on her perfectly, you could make her cum.

The sight of Jessie, her stomach, arms, and shoulders on display for you as she slowly stroked the strap, was one you wanted to commit to memory, so you stared. You watched her so closely before having an idea. “Can I do something first?”

“Sure, what?”

Before Jessie has a chance to react you hop up from the bed, your arms firmly against her shoulders. You shove her backward, her first step back is clumsy but she catches herself and continues to walk back until you have her against the wall.

“What are you-” Jessie starts to question. “Oh.” The faint whisper comes out of Jessie’s lips when you drop to your knees in front of her. Her eyes widen at the sight of you below her. You bring one hand to her thigh, the other gripping the base of the toy.

“I’m going to suck your dick Jessie.” Looking at the toy in your hand and then up to her, she nods eagerly.

Slowly, dragging out the performance, you bring your lips to touch the tip of the toy. This wasn’t something new, you on your knees for Jessie, but it wasn’t something you did often for her, it was a treat.

Keeping eye contact with her, you stick your tongue out, letting it slowly circle the top of the toy before taking more of it into your mouth. Jessie’s eyes flutter close and her head drops back against the wall for a moment. “Fuck.” At her sides her fists clench tightly before releasing and clenching again.

It’s not long that Jessie lifts her head back to look at you, one hand gently gathering your hair into a ponytail. She doesn’t push your head, instead her hand just moves along with the pace you’ve set. The presence of her hand is nice, it’s not forceful, but a reminder that she was yours and you were hers.

“You look beautiful.” Jessie says, her head shaking slightly as she watches you continue to move along her strap. Momentarily you think of the irony of her calling you beautiful earlier that day in the mirror and again now as you kneeled in front of her sucking her strap. Same words, slightly different underlying meaning.

You refuse to take your eyes off of hers, you loved the way she looked down on you. A mix of desire in her eyes as well as appreciation as she took in the sight of you.

Wanting to fully tease Jessie, you pulled the toy into your mouth letting the tip reach the back of your throat. You could feel her grip in your hair tightening, her lips slightly parted as she watched. You repeated the motion, taking her as far into your mouth as you comfortably could, your eyes watering slightly.

You feel Jessie thrust, it's not rough, but there’s a definite jerk of her hips, while her hand remains firm on the back of your head. The movement pushes the toy a little further in causing you to slightly gag.

You watch as Jessie’s eyes go from dumbfounded at the sight and sounds of you taking her deeper before they widen and she’s pulling her hand off your head. “Oh, sorry!”

You pull off the toy, letting a string of saliva connect your lips to it for a moment before it breaks. You look up at Jessie who is looking less confident than she had all night. She looks nervous, like you’re going to lay into her. Instead you tease her.

“Impatient are we?”

“A bit, but I didn’t mean to do that. It’s just, you looked so good, so pretty, and it felt good, I got overwhelmed and I just, I don’t know.” Her cheeks blush slightly as she tries to explain herself to you.

“It’s okay. It was hot. Unexpected, but hot.”

Jessie gives you a slightly forced smile, unsure of herself in what to say next. You knew her well enough, you could practically see her brain scrambling trying to figure out where to go from here, you also knew probably half of her brain was still replaying the image of you sucking her strap, preventing her thoughts from being clear.

“So are you going to fuck me, or just stand there?”

Jessie bent down, lifting you up to your feet so you were eye to eye for a few seconds before she put her hands on your hips and spun you. She then walked you, hands pushing on your hips toward the bed, bending you over when the mattress came in contact with your stomach.

Not saying much Jessie’s hands found their way to your ass. One hand kneading gently into the muscle, her other hand finding its way between your legs. Her fingers stroke through your core. She lets out a satisfied hum, feeling how wet you still were. She removes her fingers, replacing the feeling with the blunt tip of the strap.

You both let out a satisfied moan when she finally pushes forward, the toy easily sliding in with the mixture of your arousal and saliva. She took it easy on you, a few slow thrusts pulling out to the tip before pushing in until her hips met your ass.

Her pace slowly picked up, the sound of her hips against your ass, the front of her thighs slapping the back of yours, all mixed with the grunts from her mouth and the whines from yours filled the room.

The feeling of her filling you from behind was perfect. Each thrust was forceful and deep, you could feel her in your stomach. Your body jolted along the bed, the mattress and bed frame shifting with you as she relentlessly pounded into you. Both of your hands gripped the bedsheet so hard your knuckles were white, but it was all you could do to ground yourself.

“You look so good.” Jessie praised you over and over as she had her way with you.

She pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and clenching around nothing. Using her hands she spread your cheeks slightly, you turned back to watch as she stared between your legs, an expression of awe across her face. “Just dripping for me. Gosh I love you.” She looked back, locking eyes with you. “Flip over baby.”

You begin to move, Jessie helping move your legs and adjusting you to the edge of the bed once again. She pulled your legs around her, hooking your ankles behind her back. Her hand fumbles between you before she places the toy at your entrance, slowly pushing back into you.

A sigh leaves your lips, the feeling of her filling you again feels right. She was made to be in you. Instead of returning to the rough thrusts, Jessie takes a more methodical approach. Each thrust is slow, dragging satisfactorily along your walls, letting you feel each inch of her cock. When she was fully sheathed inside of you, she’d give a couple grinds, the harness bumping into your clit, giving you small waves of further pleasure. You also knew the grinding was stimulating her too, the way she’d bite her lip, her breath would pick up slightly before she’d go back to a few soft thrusts.

She repeated this pattern, keeping you squirming beneath her. She’d give you just enough pleasure to build your orgasm but not enough to bring you to the edge. You could tell she was doing the same to herself. Grinding into you until she got close, then pulling back out. Teasing herself just as she had teased you all day.

You notice Jessie’s eyes flirt around the room while she continues gently grinding into you. Her eyes stall for a moment before she pushes herself up. She kisses along your neck as her lips find your ear, she gives a soft swipe along the shell with her tongue before whispering, “Can we try something new?”

“What?” You were hesitant, it wasn’t always like Jessie to suggest something new in the bedroom. She wasn’t vanilla per say but Jessie was thorough and a planner. She liked to bring up trying something new over dinner, or while you sat and watched tv, it gave her time to discuss it, think it through. This was heat of the moment.

“Do you trust me?”

You almost scoff at the silly question. “Of course I trust you.” You’d always trusted Jessie, she’d never given you a reason not to. You also knew her, she’d never do anything to hurt you, she protected you.

With one final peck to your lips, Jessie pushes herself up, her strap still buried deep inside of you, her hands find your ankles that were hooked around her hips. Giving each ankle a small squeeze and tug on them, you get the idea and allow her to move your legs. Slowly lifting your legs Jessie hooks her arms into the bend of your knee. Gently she leans back down, pushing your knees toward your chest, her hands wrapping around and finding your back.

“You okay?” Her gaze crosses your face for signs of discomfort.

It was a newer sensation, the strap somehow impossibly deeper inside of you at the new angle, you could practically feel her in your stomach. But it was good, feeling her so deep inside of you filling you more than ever. “Yeah, it’s good, deep, but good.”

“Put your arms around my neck.”

You feel Jessie’s entire body tense around you, her hands gripping your back as she slowly lifts you from the bed. Her arms hooked under your knees allows her strap to stay inside of you as she slowly walks a few paces across the room.

For a moment you’re too confused to register what was happening. But you quickly snap into reality as you bounce ever so slightly on her strap as she steps across the room. “Oh my god Jess, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Shhh.” Jessie hushes you as your back comes into contact with the wall behind you, aiding in the stabilization of the two of you. “It’s okay.”

That’s when you notice it, the way her biceps and shoulders were tight, her muscle definition fully on display for you. “Are you going to fuck me against the wall?”

You notice the question causes Jessie’s smile to drop a bit. “Only if you’re okay with it? I was going to try.” Her eyes scan your face waiting for an answer.

“I’m definitely okay with it.” You release one hand from where it hung around her neck, letting your fingers slowly trace along her tense bicep muscle. “You’re such a show off.” You flash her a teasing smile.

“Only for you.” She leans in kissing you before beginning to pull her hips back until just the tip of the toy was inside of you. “Only a show off for my girl.” Emphasizing her declaration of commitment to you Jessie pushes back into you before beginning to thrust more rapidly.

As her thrusting picks up, the heat in your stomach that had briefly subsided begins to build back up. “Fuck, Jess.” You breathlessly whine.

You weren’t sure if it was the new position, how deep she was able to thrust into you, or maybe it was the way you could see Jessie’s every muscle straining to fuck harder and harder into you. Maybe it was the way her breath was hot on your neck, how you could hear her every groan and whine. Maybe it was how you could tell she was getting off in this position as well.

Jessie groans in response to hearing you whine her name over and over, tucking her head into your neck. “You sound so good baby.” Following her words up she let her teeth graze along your neck.

“Jess, fuck.” You take a breath, trying to clear your thoughts enough to make a sentence. “I’m close.”

Nodding into your neck she encourages you along. “I want you to cum for me, show me how good it feels.”

“So good Jess, so fucking good.” You felt your muscles tighten, sitting on the edge as Jessie continued her thrusts, her hips snapping up against yours. Every thrust felt like it was setting you on fire, your whole body tingling as you were waiting to be sent over the edge. It was second later that you did. Your head falling back hard, you let out an incoherent noise, a mix between a scream and a moan as you clenched tightly around Jessie’s strap, pulsing with each thrust.

Your nails dug in hard to Jessie’s arms, likely leaving behind tiny marks along her skin. The feeling of her tight muscles beneath your fingertips serving as a reminder of what got you into this situation in the first place. Her arms. Waves of pleasure swept through your body, exhausting you in every way, leaving you breathless and thoughtless as you came back down from your third orgasm of the night.

Blinking a few times and taking a deep breath you tilted your head back down to look at your girlfriend who was sporting a rather smug smile. She releases one of your legs, letting your foot reach the floor as her hand comes to brush the hair out of your face. Her hips continue to thrust upward, its slow and soothing after the high of your orgasm, not yet overwhelming you.

You’d been with Jessie long enough and had enough sex to know when she was close. You could see it in her expression, her quick blinking, her rosy cheeks, the way her tongue continued to wet her lips. She was close, you knew it. She has been getting herself worked up this whole time, only to stop because you had came.

“Are you close?” You whisper to her as you feel her thrusts begin to slow down as she tries to avoid overstimulating you. Jessie was far from selfish, especially during sex, she’d make sure you’d been satisfied, often multiple times, before ever even considering getting an orgasm herself.

“Mhmm.” It’s a soft whine, her head nodding, her eyes are closed. She confirms what you already knew. You also knew you’d have to encourage her, she wasn’t going to use you to get off unless you asked, unless you told her.

“Take it, I want you to fuck me until you cum. Take what you need.” You see her eyes pinch closed tighter at your words, her eyebrows pinching together. She waits, as if she’s debating her choices but only a minute later you feel the drag of the strap inside of you again. “That’s it baby, take it. It’s your pussy after all.” You tease.

Jessie groans, letting her head fall back into your neck. Her hands now holding your ass firmly, one of your legs on the ground, the other still looped over Jessie’s arm held up against the wall. She softly curses to herself, her words muffled into your skin as her movements become quicker.

You couldn’t help but let out a yelp with every thrust, each one jolting your whole body with force. Jessie’s thrusts are rough and quick. Plunging all the way into you before pulling out just to the tip, then back in. That’s how you know she’s on the edge, her precise, equal thrusts become shallow and sloppy. She whines, her head dropping back into your shoulder, this time her lips on your shoulder.

You run a hand through the back of her head, holding her, whines coming out of your own mouth as she uses you. You loved watching her chase her high, you loved how she sounded. “Cum for me baby.” Your nails gently scratched at the back of her neck as she gave a few last thrusts upward. A deep groan comes from her which is quickly muffled by the sharp feeling of her teeth on your collarbone. Her whole body tenses and she gives one final thrust impossibly deep into you.

When she releases her mouth she’s breathless. You take a glance at your shoulder, seeing the bright red bite she’s left in the wake of her orgasm. You turn to teasingly scold her for the mark but when your eyes meet hers you can’t help but giggle at your situation.

“I cannot believe you just fucked me against the wall. God you’re such a show off.” You say with a teasing smile and laugh.

“But you liked it.” She’s smug for a second and then you can practically watch the self doubt creep into her mind. “Right?”

Grabbing her blushing cheeks you give her a quick peck. “Seriously Jessie.” You roll your eyes at her affectionately. “I loved it, I love when you get confident. It’s sexy. And I love those arms.”

[noonew1lleverask]

Metaphorical Orgasm

GUYS I'M BACK. I had the worst writer's block, but here I am...

I think I might start writing Supernatural stuff... >:)

Enjoy my pretties<3

Details: 1st Person POV. Fluffy fluff fluffernutter. Talk of orgasm, but no actual, like, performance.

..............................................................................................................................

His fingertips brush along my hip, and it resounds through me like a struck gong.

He didn’t even notice.

Doesn’t even realize the hell he’s unleashing on my poor, weary body with every brief, minute touch. Minute to him. To me? It’s earth-shattering.

It kills me how he can be so unaware how he makes me feel, standing there, so handsome, so unknowingly gorgeous I want to shake his shoulders and scream in his face. For the second time. There will be no elaboration as to what called for the first round of screaming. 

I try to focus on the conversation taking place, surrounding me on all sides– Penelope chiming in with small anecdotes to my left; bright, funny little quips that I’ve decided are necessary for the story to remain entertaining. Morgan in front of me, recounting an instance at the gym; the first tag-team visit with Penelope, where– “Little Miss Priss thought, ‘nuh uh, your girl can handle some weights, D! Hand ‘em over!’’

Penelope cuts in, gasping, “That’s not true! You just handed them off to me- lumped them into my hands! I thought I was going to break through to the center of the earth- how does he handle those things?” She directs the question to me, but I’m busy chuckling, coughing out a half-hearted “I don’t know”, and trying not to combust when Spencer’s hand brushes my upper back. Screw backless tops, truly, fuck ‘em.

And, finally, the last addition to the conversation–

“Actually, to get to the center of the earth you would need an infinitely large weight, initially. But, when reaching the center your weight would be zero. Gravity would be pulling you equally from all directions, resulting in a net force of zero. It’s kind of funny, actually, because–”

I zone out.

I don’t mean to.

I just do, because that small smile grows on his face, lips pulled up by pride that blossoms in his chest– preening because, yes, it is funny, and he knows it, and we don’t. He’s a genius, we’re not, so relish in his scientific fact that holds, truly, no weight in the overall conversation, but an infinitely large one in my heart.

To see that soft flush tint his cheeks, the twinkle in his eyes, the intelligence churning behind those circles of hazel reminiscent of a lake I once fell into, scuffing my knees on the roots of a tree curling at the leafy edges– it’s not unfamiliar, nor rare, but the reaction inside of my body– everything going into haywire, alarms blaring, neurons firing, chemicals spilling into the grooves of my cerebral cortex– to me, it’s a new, unique sensation every time.

An orgasm without sex.

That’s the best metaphor I could conjure up in this moment?

“Hey.” Spencer tugs on the end of my hair, not cruelly, nor teasingly, but to get my attention, and it does. I startle, my cheeks flushing, and smooth back the offended strand of hair.

“Hi,” I reply, begging God that my voice doesn’t imply I was just thinking of how his expression is the closest to ecstasy I’ll get without stimulation.

It doesn’t, because his eyes show nothing but soft concern for me, and I melt, just a little more.

“You okay?” He asks, softly, bending his head down so his lips brush my ear.

A shiver races up my spine, and I clutch the coffee mug in my hands tighter, feeling the ceramic squeak under my threatening grasp. “Mhm,” I choke out, nodding. I turn my face to his, and regret it, as I realize how close our faces are in the far left of the bullpen. Penelope and Morgan have left, probably shortly after Spencer began his tangent. I can’t imagine why they would– they’re missing out on a metaphorical orgasm! Or maybe that’s just… a reaction I have.

Hm.

Spencer doesn’t appear all too convinced, but the concern lessens, leading his lips to tick up into a smile. “Good,” he mumbles, hand finally curling around my hip. “I worry, y’know.”

“I know,” I reply. I lean into his touch, my hip filling his palm with denim and my leather belt he bought me for my birthday. “Too much.”

Spencer’s smile widens, a soft laugh slipping from his perfect, pink lips. “I don’t think so.” And he kisses my temple, then my cheek with a comical smack! that makes my eyes squeeze shut and a light-hearted groan tumble out. Spencer laughs more.

“You love it.”

I groan again. “No,” I correct. “I love you.”

..............................................................................................................................

Thank you for reading! <3

[jerryandersonsdaughterinlaw]

soft abby anderson blurb ❀ sweet gf!abby fluff

babying abby and she babies you back; wc: 2.1k

it’s a quiet afternoon. the kind where time feels syrupy and slow, and the sun pours in like warm honey across the living room floor. abby’s sunk into the couch with a book open in her lap, one arm lazily resting along the back cushion. she’s not really reading anymore, just scanning the same sentence over and over, mind somewhere softer. her hair’s still damp from a shower and tucked behind her ears.

from the kitchen, i pad in barefoot, eyes bright with something mischievous. i don’t say anything— just lean over the back of the couch and watch abby from above. i bite my lip, trying not to smile too obviously. without warning, i climb over the back of the couch and drop myself right into her lap.

“jesus—” abby grunts, the book flopping shut against her chest as i straddle her thighs.

“shh,” i grin, already cupping abby’s face in both hands. “you’re too cute when you’re caught off guard.”

abby’s brows lift, trying to fight the tiny smile threatening to curl her lips.

“you,” i say, squishing abby’s cheeks together between my palms, ignoring the half hearted protest, “are the most beautiful girl in the whole world. prettiest little face i’ve ever seen.”

abby groans, already turning red. her hands go to my waist instinctively, but she doesn’t try to move me off. instead she just sighs and glances off to the side, like she’s trying to look anywhere except my face.

which, of course, just makes me lean in closer. i squish abby’s cheeks together with both hands, making her lips pucker slightly, nose wrinkled. “look at this sweet face,” i say, with over the top saccharine. “my big, strong girl. you been working so hard, huh?”

“babe,” she mutters, cheeks still squished. her ears go pink immediately. she tries to roll her eyes and huffs a quiet “oh my god…” under her breath, but she doesn’t pull away. her arms eventually settle around me like muscle memory, holding me there.

“my strong, grumpy girl. look at you, you big soft thing,” i coo in a ridiculous sing song voice, pressing a kiss to her nose. “prettiest pout i’ve ever seen.”

abby groans. “stop—”

i lean in with a mock serious pout, “who’s my baby?”

abby groans, but she’s blushing even harder now. she buries her face in my neck to hide, voice muffled. “you’re so annoying,” she mumbles, though her thumbs are stroking my hips in slow circles, and she’s not pushing me away.

i pepper her face with little kisses: her cheeks, her nose, the corner of her mouth. i trail my hands through her damp hair, brushing it back gently. when i kiss her nose, abby tips her head back against the couch cushion, closes her eyes, and lets out the softest little laugh— one of those rare ones, low and reluctant but real.

eventually she opens her eyes again, still all pink and embarrassed, and murmurs: “you’re so lucky i love you.”

“oh, i know i am,” i whisper proudly, hugging her close. “but more importantly… i think you might secretly love being babied. just a little bit.”

“take that back.”

“nope.”

i start tracing the freckles on abby’s face with one finger, gently mapping a constellation along her cheekbone and across her nose. “all the stars that lead me home,” i say softly, voice dipping from playful to affectionate.

abby swallows, visibly affected. her hands flex against my waist, and she finally looks me in the eye. “you’re gonna make me kiss you,” she murmurs, voice low.

i grin. “isn’t that the point?”

abby leans up and does exactly that— slow and deliberate, like a quiet way of saying thanks for loving me like this, even when I don’t know what to do with it. her hands slide up my back like she’s trying to memorize the shape, and when we part, her breath is warm against my lips.

“still think i’m annoying?” i whisper.

abby rests her forehead against mine and mumbles, “very. but you’re mine.”

her hand rises to my face, thumb brushing the curve of my jaw, and she baby talks back just once, under her breath, “pretty little menace.”

i grin like it’s the highest praise in the world and promptly melt into her arms.

we stay like that for a moment, warm and tangled, laughter fading into quiet. abby’s arms wrap fully around me, pulling me in until there’s not an inch of space left between us. her breath slows. shoulders relax. in a rare, quiet moment of surrender, she murmurs, barely above a whisper, “i like when you do this.”

i pull back just enough to see her face. “yeah?”

abby nods once, sheepish. “i don’t always know how to ask. but i like it. when you… let me be soft like that.”

my smile turns tender, and i brush my thumb over her cheekbone.“you don’t have to ask,” i whisper. “i’ll always come sit in your lap and tell you how pretty and strong and kissable you are.”

abby scoffs under her breath, but her smile finally gives in, wide and youthful.

i nuzzle in, trailing my finger along the freckles on her shoulder like i’m connecting them. “you’re my favorite person in the whole world,” i murmur. “even when you’re broody.”

abby’s hands tighten slightly around my waist, grounding us both.“you’re mine too,” she says, low and honest.

i stay curled in her lap, arms looped loosely around her neck, foreheads touching, breath shared between us.

abby’s hands trace gentle lines up and down my sides, thumbs smoothing over cotton. she’s calmed now, even as i playfully press kisses to her cheeks and chin like it’s my favorite game.

“you’re so spoiled,” she murmurs eventually, voice fond.

“only by you,” i say with a grin, lips brushing her jaw. “and i plan on staying that way.”

abby just hums. after a moment, she shifts— strong arms wrapping tighter around my waist as she leans back into the cushions and brings me down with her, until we’re chest to chest. i let out a little squeak, surprised, but she holds me firm, tucking my head right beneath her chin.

“you wanna be babied so bad?” abby mutters, her lips near my temple. “fine. my turn.”

and then she starts to rock me. slow, steady, like a gentle tide. one hand cradles the back of my head. the other strokes down my spine. she starts murmuring soft little nothings— just a hum of affection, “got you,” and “you’re safe,” and “mine.”

i go still, breath catching slightly, and melt into her. she shifts again, just enough to brush her nose against my cheek and press a feather light kiss there. then another. her lips move to my brow, my temple, my jaw.

“such a handful,” she whispers, her voice like warm honey. “always crawling all over me. what would i do without you?”

i don’t answer— just tuck in tighter, fingers curled in the front of Abby’s shirt, my smile hidden against her chest.

“you need anything?” abby murmurs, still rocking me. “water? nap? emotional validation?”

i laugh— a soft, breathy little huff and whisper, “just you.”

she holds me closer, presses another kiss to my temple. and in that quiet, grounded way of hers, she whispers, “you’ve got me, baby girl.”

“well then how about all three?” i respond softly, smiling up at her as my heart aches in my chest.

a slow exhale puffs from abby’s nose, somewhere between amusement and defeat. she kisses my hair and pulls back just enough to sit upright. “alright. water first, then i’m tucking you in, and once i’ve got you swaddled like a burrito, i’ll tell you every reason i adore you till you pass out. sound good?”

“perfect,” i murmur, already melting into the couch cushions.

abby stood with a groan, stretching her arms overhead before padding off to the kitchen. i heard the soft rattle of the tap, the clink of glass. when she returned, she handed over the water with a brow raised. “drink, no half assing hydration.”

i took it with both hands and pouted dramatically. “not even a sip and snuggle combo?”

“nope,” abby said, sitting beside me again and watching like a hawk. “finish it, then i’ll spoon you like your life depends on it.”

i rolled my eyes but drank, grumbling the entire time.

once the glass was empty, she plucked it from my hands, set it aside, and gathered me back up into her arms. she lifted me easily, carrying me down the hall.

“my strong girl,” i whispered sleepily, arms looped around her neck.

“my dramatic girl,” abby shot back.

the bedroom was dim, warm with late golden light, curtains drawn just enough to cast soft shapes across the bed. abby eased me down onto the mattress, smoothing the blanket over me, tucking it snug under my arms.

“there,” she said, gently patting the bundle she’d made. “perfectly swaddled.”

i smiled, eyes fluttering half shut. “you gonna talk me to sleep now?”

abby climbed in beside me and pulled me in close, one arm beneath my head, the other wrapping around my waist. “you’re the best part of my day,” she said simply.

i let out a slow breath.

“you’re not too much. not ever.”

a small sound left my throat, the kind that’s part exhale, part relief.

“you’re soft, and smart, and so damn easy to love.” her hand moved in slow strokes down my back, under the blanket. “you’re funny even when you’re mad. you make me better.”

i blinked up at her, “don’t stop talking…”

abby kissed my forehead, slow and sure. “you’re all i want. you make this place feel like something worth coming home to. you hum when you brush your teeth, and i think that might be the cutest sound on earth.”

a laugh escapes my lips, and i tuck myself in tighter, head under abby’s chin, hand pressed between us like i was holding her words to my chest.

she kept going, voice quieter now, until the words were more breath than sound, stitched into the steady rhythm of my heart.

i nearly fell asleep like that. swaddled, safe, and full of love I didn’t have to ask twice for. the bedroom was dim now, the amber light from the hallway casting soft shapes across the floorboards. my fingers idly traced slow circles against abby’s side. i whispered, so faintly it might’ve been part of a dream, “can you sing to me?”

abby froze for half a breath, caught off guard. “you want me to sing?”

“just something soft,” i murmured, pressing my nose into her collarbone. “anything you remember. please…?” i whispered, gently tugging at her hand. there was no teasing in my voice. just a kind of raw openness abby could never say no to.

she let out a quiet sigh and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “alright. but you can’t laugh.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

abby took a breath, steadying herself. she started to hum a melody, something old and warm. she always picked an old folk tune or a lullaby from her childhood. her voice was low and steady, like a warm breeze through tall grass, the hush of a late summer evening on the porch. the kind of voice meant to anchor you to earth.

as i melted into her arms, cheek resting over her heart, she murmured the words against my temple, slow and gentle:

“lay your head down, darling, the sky’s gone soft and blue…

there’s nothing left to chase now, i’ve got you.”

i went still. then i shifted, just barely— tucking myself tighter under abby’s arm, like the sound alone was pulling me closer. my breath slowed, my hand curled tighter in her shirt, and the weight of trust in that moment was too precious to let pass in silence.

abby kept going, the next verse even quieter:

her fingers brushed down my spine, slow and rhythmic. with each verse, my breathing grew softer, my body loosening like a ribbon unraveling. i sighed against her chest, half asleep but still clinging to the sound of her voice.

“and i’ll keep the watch, darling, i’ll be right here…

you don’t have to say it, i already know.”

by the time abby finished the song, i had stopped tracing circles. my hand now simply rested on her ribs, rising and falling gently with my breath. and though i didn’t respond with words, i gave the faintest press of a kiss to her sternum— a thank you too soft to speak.

abby let the silence settle around us like a quilt, her hand still stroking my back in time with my heartbeat. “goodnight, baby,” she whispered, barely more than breath.

━━━━━━━━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━

[dreamsbookblr]

The Foxes Go Hiking! Part 2

Y’all thought the day ended when the hike ended? Nah. They did in fact go to lunch. Of course that also also…stunning.

- The closest place to get actual food not in a gas station would be in the town of Pickens, 20 mins from Table Rock

- Both cars are dead silent not a single word is spoken the entire way there. ACs are BLASTING and everyone is sticky from sweat. Kevin has yet to put his shirt back on

- When they get into Pickens, they circle the block three times looking for parking. Why? Because Matt is leading the way and kind of panicking because he’s never been to downtown Pickens before and is stressed. Mind you, small southern town and there is nothing to stress

- By the third block circle Kevin has texted the groupchat “WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING”

- After they park, Kevin has to put his wet ass shirt back on and Andrew puts his arm bands back on. They’re also sweaty so getting them on looks like a struggle and multiple of them have to turn around to keep from laughing

- They eat at the closest place they see: a Mexican restaurant

- When they get inside the vibes are RANCID. No one is in there and it is dead silent NO music and the employees are not talking. At this point they don’t care and just want to sit down and get ice waters

- Everyone orders 2 ice waters. Kevin tries to be slick and order tequila even though he still has a dehydration headache and dry mouth. Aaron tells the waitress to not listen to a word he says and just get him water

- Nicky, a southern boy at heart, orders a sweet tea with his water and is fiending for it. When the sweet tea comes to the table he takes a sip and immediately makes a disgusted face. He proclaims “this tastes like fart” and makes EVERYONE take a sip. The tea remains untouched the rest of lunch

- Kevin goes to the bathroom which confuses everyone because they’re not sure exactly what this man has to piss when he’s dryer than the Sahara. When he comes back his arm is still bloody from his cut. They are not sure what he did in there and they will not ask

- Renee goes to the bathroom not long after that and when she gets back to the table she looks confused and goes “I’m really a big fan of the Christmas decorations they still have up in there”

- Nicky, again a southern boy at heart, orders an ACP. He gets “are you serious rn” eyebrows from about half the table as he damn well knows there is better on the menu as a Mexican man. He goes “goddammit guys just let me have this”

- About halfway through eating Aaron looks at his phone and sees a text from Katelyn to a link from a news site that says a meteor was seen in the Southeastern US and landed somewhere in either GA or SC. He goes “what the fuck??” Because of course

- Nicky proclaims “god I hope it hit Nancy Mace’s house”. Again, only one actually from SC, understood what he meant. He then has to spend 10 minutes explaining SC state politics

- Soon after, they get in the cars and go their separate ways driving the 20 mins back to Palmetto.

- When they arrive at Wymacks/Abbys, it is well past 4:00 pm. A hike that started at around 9:00 am should NOT have taken that long.

- When Abby thinks they won’t notice, she sneaks off and calls Wymack. She asks if the kids in his house look like they were dragged through war trenches and are about 2 seconds from crying. Wymack says he thinks Aaron already has cried today.

- at Wymacks apartment, Kevin showers first to get the blood off of him. He is APPALLED when he gets in the bathroom and sees he is sunburnt worse than a lobster. Literally no one else got sun except him because he took his shirt off. The moment he exits that shower he falls asleep on the couch

- Andrew and Neil shower last and together, and Nicky makes a gross ass sexual comment because of course he does. Not 5 minutes later they hear a crash and Andrew yelling “DAMMIT NEIL!”. Neils legs literally gave out. They showered together because Neil said he couldn’t feel his legs. Nothing intimate beyond aggrivated sighs and Neil having to bathe sitting down happened.

- Abbys house is much calmer! She makes every drink a liquidiv and puts on a calming movie and they’re just chilling out.

- Dan lowkey feels humiliated when she damn near has to crawl up the stairs to the shower

- Allison makes her instagram post and she looks fabulous and fans eat it the hell up! Her insta story goes viral. Why?

- Because she posted Kevin sprawled out on his back on the rock looking like he got dragged through hell, tagged him, and said “when you get rocked at table rock”. Exy fans lose their shit because as far as they’re concerned this is the first time the perfect Kevin Day has not been perfect

- Jean, whose instagram was made by Jeremy, has never been used and he has 0 posts and follows no one except the official Trojans Exy account, makes its first post. It’s a repost of Allisons story and he says “lol”. This goes viral as well

- Neil makes a post on the official Palmetto Exy account and makes a caption about “loving team bonding🦊🧡🤍” but all of the pictures are kinda blurry and show everyone at their worst. He sets the damn thing to Moonbeam Ice Cream. Jeremy comments “love to see it💪”

- At around 3:00 am Renee texts the groupchat all pissed off that she forgot to flash her boobs at the end of the hike. She has last her streak of doing it the past 4 hikes, and this was supposed to be the 5th

- EVERYONE was in beds or on couches snoozing by 8:30 pm.

- Wymack texted Betsy she might have some last minute and impromptu appointments for the next 2 weeks, and they all might be just different bitching vents about this trip. She enjoys the tea tbh

I also did not make that meteor crap up. Please google “south carolina meteor june 2025”

[emberphoenixisgoingtolive]

the camp fam, Dave and Roxie going to a theme park

very messy because i typed this in theme park queues

Darius pairs up with Kenji, Brooklynn pairs up with Ben, Dave pairs up with Roxie, and Yaz pairs up with Sammy for all the rides. Brooklynn and Ben are the biggest adrenaline junkies, Yaz and Sammy for obvious reasons, Darius and Kenji like the brother bonding time :') and Oh I Guess We’re Sitting Together By Default Might As Well Enjoy It (the campers 100% know Dave and Roxie have crushes on each other and arranged this on purpose)

all of the campers are pretty adrenaline–thirsty, but Yaz and Sammy split off from the rest of the group for a couple of hours to enjoy things at a slower pace

Roxie, talking to the kids before they set off: “listen, there’s no shame in feeling scared to ride a ride, or not wanting to, so if you don’t want to—” *all six kids sprint for the queue for the biggest ride in the park at top speed, cheering*

if someone DIDN’T want to ride a ride, Roxie would 100% sit with them and comfort/reassure them and hold their hand and try to keep their mind off it. Dave would tell them dad jokes until they laughed. which they would probably do out of pity eventually

Roxie herself is the BIGGEST adrenaline junkie. she willingly worked in a dinosaur-filled jungle, she stole a transport from her higher ups, she's fearless lbfr. she can stomach any ride

Dave loves rides, even though he gets very motion sick (“wow, that was—” *literally throws up* “...great! Really gr—” *throws up again*)

Dave is a screamer on rides but has to fight demons not to swear because The Kids Are Here (even though most of them swear way worse than him and Roxie) ("OH HOLY MOTHER— FORKING— SHIRT BALLS" /the good place ref)

they go on a sweltering hot day with full sun, and Roxie has to chase the kids down with a squirty bottle of suncream (especially Ben) to avoid their skin literally peeling

ride attendant: "ARE YOU READY????" Ben: *most horrible eardrum–shattering screech you ever heard*

they all cheer at the top of the rides. at the biggest rollercoaster, Sammy coordinates them to all shout "camp fam for life!" in unison

the camp fam wander off on their own for a few hours in the afternoon, but they actually like hanging out with Dave and Roxie, and they trust the kids to be safe and sensible (Roxie’s still making them text her every half hour to confirm they’re okay though)

Yaz and Sammy hold hands on every ride

they also love the storytelling/slow rides (canon)

Kenji hides behind Darius on the log flume/water rides cos Darius is the shortest and has to go in front

someone brings a plastic bag and a raincoat for the water rides and ends up soaked anyway (i did put Ben but like. jungle boy is at the front actively trying to get as soaking wet as possible)

Kenji begs Roxie/Dave to buy them popcorn/ice cream/candy floss (aka cotton candy i guess...) and Roxie insists, “we have ice cream at home and i’m not paying five dollars each for you to have it here” (Dave sneaks the campers a twenty behind Roxie’s back and tells them to be quick)

Roxie and Dave are both massive adrenaline junkies, but Roxie is almost always the one waiting with the bags for safekeeping (Dave offers her a break when he can tell she wants to go on a cool ride)

Kenji drags everyone onto the big rollercoasters but then throws up at the end. he gets BADLY ridesick on the spinny rides but rides them anyway because he's stubborn

after most Big Rides, Kenji can hardly walk in a straight line. people think he's been drinking and his friends have to explain he's just Like This

Darius's favourite ride is the chair swing ride where you sit in a swing seat and spin in a circle. he feels like a flying dinosaur. absolute bliss. he's cheering the loudest, arms spread out like a bird

he also brings his headphones onto the chair swing ride and listens to the most atmospheric and lovely soaring music (i do this and it’s INCREDIBLE)

Brooklynn takes ride pov videos, even if you're not allowed your phone on the ride. she sneaks it in

she does this several times before she accidentally drops hers from a ride from about 20 feet off the ground

this happens when Dave and Roxie are waiting with their bags, and they notice Brooklynn's phone falling, and by some miracle, Dave catches it like a cricketer. when he catches it, he falls to his knees, and cheers so loud. it’s easily the most badass moment of his entire life. as soon as the kids get off the ride, Roxie tells Brooklynn, "no more ride povs, you’ll break your phone and Dave won't catch it every time." and Dave forlornly says, "i might do :("

a different ride gets stuck a few hours later, and Brooklynn pulls her phone out of her bra and just starts texting Roxie to tell her their ride is stuck. Roxie then texts back crossly asking why her phone is with her on the ride in the first place. (Brooklynn: “would you RATHER worry about us because you don’t know where we are and we have no way of telling you that we’re okay and you’re stressed and worried?”) (Roxie: *pissed because Brooklynn has a point*)

the one ride photo they get is one where Dave is screaming his head off and clinging to Roxie's arm and Roxie has a really weird expression, and they both beg the kids not to buy it and Kenji slaps a twenty on the counter and says "we'll take six copies"

as revenge, Roxie and Dave play a prank on the campers where they get them to pose in front of a water ride splash zone, and they count them down for the photo (as the ride is going down the slide), and when they get to one, they time it so the campers get absolutely splashed soaking by the ride right when they take the photo

Roxie: "3… 2…" *campers get absolutely soaked by the ride, yelling and screaming with shock* Roxie, barely holding back laughter: "…1" the campers, dripping wet: :| Dave: "oh, we got you good"

[jikigo]

you ever just see a post and just

. 😭

.⬅️🫀⬅️

[wlwgang]

Ohhh I’m not the Alex Turner of this relationship I’m Alexa Chung

[thecosmicapple]

.

[lucidfairies]

— pretty in pink [sevika]

synopsis: after you lose your final strike, your parents all but banish you to their old friend's farm, and well, as much as you hate it, the woman happens to be obscenely attractive

pairing: rich!bimbo!reader x farmer! sevika

warnings: younger!reader (twenties, sevika is thirties/forties), mean!sevika, pussy eating, backshots, fingering, orgasm denial, domestic kink, breeding kink, free use mentioned, dirty talk, pet names, fucking in front of a mirror, breath play, oral fixation, spanking + counting spanks, degradation, stomach bulge, squirting strap, strap referred to as cock/dick

wc: 4.8k

a/n: lots of quick notes! this fic is very much based on this post by @polkadotzzzz !!! and per usual, so many thanks to my dearest @sevsgiirl for helping me out with this one 🩷

It was only one party.

Your best friend, Jinx, invited you, and it was a well known fact that Jinx knew the best parties, with the best drugs and the best drinks. So of course you couldn’t turn her down, and thank god you didn’t. The party was packed, and the drinks and drugs were more than anything you had ever dreamt of.

That being said, when a picture of you snorting a line circled all of the tabloids, it was easy to say that your parents wanted your head on a stick. Your parents were notorious in town, seeing as they were the wealthiest. Somehow, their money got them top spots in every celebrity gossip magazine, and you were in no way except from it.

The idea was ridiculous. You were an adult, standing tall in your twenties, and it wasn’t anyone’s right (especially your parents) to tell you how to live your life. If you wanted to snort coke at a party with fifty of your closest friends, then you were going to. No magazine was going to stop you.

That was how you landed here, on the front porch of a woman that you didn’t even know the name of. Your parents stood in front of you as you waited for her to answer the door, and when she finally did, you hardly bothered looking up from your phone. This wasn’t going to last long, you were sure of it. Your parents wanted you to live on a farm, tending to animals like some kind of slob. They claimed it would “get you in line”, as if your life meant that much to them.

You had several men behind you, shuffling in your number of suitcases as your parents hugged the woman before you and made efforts to catch up. For someone they claimed to have known for so long, you had never heard of the woman, and when you looked up and finally got a good look at her, you only remembered her face from one meager photo on the wall.

She was tall, taller than your father even, and she was packed with pure muscle. The woman was truly intimidating, but you attempted to shrug it off. Maybe you could offer her money in return for not making you work with anything dirty.

“Sevika, we are so grateful for you,” your mother spoke softly, taking her hand and patting it like she was doing some innumerable service to them. “This is our daughter, I don’t think you’ve ever met her,” you stepped forward, still scrolling on your phone as you popped a large bubble of gum. Your mother wacked your arm and you rolled your eyes, turning off your phone.

“‘m Sevika,” she reached a hand out and you looked at it for a moment, noticing every speck of dirt that graced her palm. “Y’r daddy says you’re in need of someone to set you straight, sound about right?” Your dad chuckled and you sighed.

“That’s not exactly how I’d phrase it, pretty sure I’m just living my life as an adult,” you side-eyed him with a glare. “And regardless, none of this is any of your business.” You huffed. To you, it truly wasn’t anyone’s. Your parents' public image didn’t matter to you, you didn’t want any part in it.

Sevika hummed, turning to your dad. “Don’t you worry, boss. I’ll get ‘er in line. Thanks for stoppin’ by, ‘m sure you’ve got a lot to get to.” With a long bunch of final goodbyes, your parents were gone, and you were left alone with a stranger. The idea pissed you off - your parents were tired of dealing with you, and instead of wiping that picture off of the internet, they decided to dump you on a random woman.

“So what exactly will I be doing here?” You said, twirling a piece of hair around your finger as you popped another bubble. “I won’t have to like… clean up animal shit, right? I just got a manicure and I didn’t pay two hundred dollars just to ruin my hands, y’know?” Sevika rolled her eyes.

“You’re gon’ do what I tell you to do. That’s the point of this lil’ apprenticeship. Your bedroom is upstairs on the right. We wake at five, feed the animals, eat, and spend the rest of the day outside.” Your jaw dropped, eyebrows knitting. Sevika could see the piece of gum chewed into your teeth.

“Five in the morning? Why on earth would I get up that early?” You scoffed, pulling your phone out again. You could hardly wait to tell Jinx about this, but halfway through your message, your phone was being snatched from your hands.

“Jus’ because your father let you get away with being a brat don’t mean that I will. This,” she waved your phone around, “is mine now. For the rest of the summer, you work for me, and you work when I work, y’hear me?” You almost wanted to laugh at her. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t going to work.

“Whatever you say, boss,” you popped yet another bubble in her face this time, mocking the title she used for your dad mere minutes ago. “Do you have people who can like, take these up for me?” You looked over at your bags and she laughed at you.

“It don’t work like that out here, darlin. You carry your own things up. Since y’r new, I’ll take one for y’a. But only one.” You groaned, grabbing one of the suitcases as she did and following her upstairs. Compared to your bedroom at home, this room was like a closet. She dropped the luggage on the floor as if it wasn’t a ten thousand dollar handmade pink set.

“Well, where I’m from, we don’t throw expensive things on the ground like animals,” you shot, picking up the suitcase. “This is so not going to work out.” Sevika rolled her eyes, disappearing down the hall for the evening. Thank god you finally got a break from her.

The next morning was like hell. She woke you up bright and early, just like she said she would, and tossed you a disgusting pair of overalls that she instructed you to put on. Not only was the outfit ugly, but she also gave you no time to do your hair and makeup before she was yelling at you to get out the door.

“I’m not touching that,” you pulled your hands back as she handed you a bucket full of god knows what. “That’s disgusting, I already told you-”

“You ain’t breakin’ a nail, I get it. Suck it up and go feed the pigs. It ain’t gonna kill y’a.” You rolled your eyes, still not taking the bucket from her hands.

“No.” Her jaw tightened, and her angry gaze fell upon you. You noticed, then, that her eyes were grey, and they shined. If you didn’t hate her guts already, you would obviously coin that they were gorgeous, like the rest of her. But you hated her guts.

“Listen here, you brat,” her accent got thicker. “I’m not any happier about this than you are. But we’re here, and my job is to set you straight. So man up and go feed the pigs.” You glared, but took the bucket regardless. She rolled her eyes as you stormed off, the heavy bucket weighing you down.

You had to admit, the pigs were quite cute, especially the small ones. But that didn’t outweigh the muck on your hands, or the fact that this jackass woman insisted that you were a brat.

-

Two weeks of absolute torture had gone by. There was no way in hell that you would keep this up, not for the whole summer. You couldn’t even get through a month, let alone four. Not to mention the woman hadn’t even hinted at the idea of giving you a break. You didn’t go out for dinner, didn’t take days off, didn’t go to clubs. It was the worst possible life of a rich city girl.

Sevika was a terrible boss. She was mean and strict and she hated everything about you, you were sure of it. However, the woman was undeniably attractive, in a terrible way. She was mean to you and it made your knees weak, she called you a brat and you thought about her taking the brat out of you. I mean, look at those arms. She could take you whenever and wherever she wanted.

You were sure, though, that this was simply because you hadn’t had sex in three weeks.

“Sev,” you wandered downstairs, crop top and shorts clinging to your body like it was life support. She was on the couch, reading the newspaper in her reading glasses like it was 1983. She looked up, eyes dancing down the curves of your figure before snapping back to her paper. “Are there any local bars? I’m thinking of going out.”

“No and no.” She grumbled. “‘s jus’ gonna land you in the same situation that got you here. You’re not doin’ that.” You sighed. Luckily, contrary to her knowledge, you knew where your phone was, and Google Maps would happily show you local bars.

Without responding, you strolled your way back upstairs, gracefully grabbing your phone and typing in bars. To your dismay, only one came up, but it didn’t matter to you. That was the one you would go to, and the thought of getting drunk gave you a buzz almost better than weed.

You planned it perfectly: Sevika went to bed early, of course, so you could easily sneak out once she was asleep. You didn’t leave your slutty clothes at home, in fact, you filled two suitcases with them, so when the day came, the glittery, pink dress that was far shorter than it should be called your name loudly. It was a v-neck, falling far into the crack of your tits, with a south Asian inspired scarf. You paired it with pink heeled boots, and pink makeup to finish the look. The night was going to be amazing, you could tell just from the outfit.

The plan started well.

Sevika went to bed, as you planned, and you were able to get out with your phone, no less. You called yourself a taxi and got to the bar without a problem, practically welcomed like a queen. You tried to tell yourself that all of the stares and hoots and free drinks were because people knew you and not because all of the old men thought that you were hot, but it was notably the latter.

You loved free drinks, at the end of the day it didn’t matter who they were from or why they were sending them. So, as the shots poured in, you were more than happy to take them, and take them and take them.

Fortunately, some strange men also paid for your food, sobering you up every couple of shots. You didn't want to be drunk when you got home, fearing that it would interrupt Sevika's sleep, and lead to her finding out that you snuck out. So, the random meals and several glasses of water allowed you to maintain a constant state of switching between sober and not sober.

You all but sobered up when the bar doors slammed open, and Sevika appeared in the middle. She came towards you, grabbed your arm, and dragged you off of the barstool. She tossed some cash on the bar and turned towards you, furious. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She hissed, grinding her teeth together.

“Sev,” you groaned, looking around at all the eyes looking at you. “Can we not do this here?” You attempted to pull your arm from her grip with no avail. Instead, she spun the two of you around, pushing you towards the door and out of the bar with the grip still right on your arm.

She didn't release you until the both of you made it into her truck, where she slammed the door in your face and got into the driver's seat. “D’you think about things before you do ‘em? At all?” She roared, pulling out of the bar. “Did you see the way those men looked at you? You coulda gotten yourself in serious trouble.” You rolled your eyes, your favorite thing to do when she was around.

“It’s not your job to police what I do. In fact, I think you’re jealous. At least I have men paying for my drinks. You wish.” She practically cackled at that, and your already lame comeback made you feel even smaller. You were sure Sevika didn’t even like men, especially when you were digging through one of her drawers looking for your phone and stumbled across some interesting magazines.

“If I wanted that, I could have that, and y’know it, peach. This ain’t about me, though. Get your ass in line or I’m tellin’ your daddy to leave you out here, ‘nd you know he will.” The thought of staying here any longer than you had to made you want to tear your hair out. Maybe the thought alone was enough to keep you in line. She pulled into the driveway and turned the car off, turning to you with a sigh. “Don’t do that shit again. ’m not like your parents, ’m not writin’ off y’r dumbass choices.”

“Let me go out then, for the love of god. Drinking won’t kill me.” You turned your attention to your hand, picking at your nail. “Not to mention, I haven’t had sex in weeks. Weeks! I could’ve checked that box tonight and you wouldn’t have had to deal with me like this anymore.” She was clearly unamused, wide lips remaining downturned.

“You’re actin’ the same way now that you do all the time; like a fuckin’ brat. Go inside and go to bed, for god’s sake.” She popped her door open and got out, slamming the door behind her. You waited a moment before following her, still angry from her slew of comments throughout the evening.

“Maybe it’s your fault,” you said when you stepped into the home, “you’re the one who’s mean to me, taking my things, making fun of my clothes. You’re a fucking jackass. I have no reason to listen to you. Full grown adult, remember?” You sneered, gesturing up and down your body.

“I did what I was told. Take a fuckin’ chill pill. I ain’t gon’ stand here arguin’ with you, it’s a waste of time.” She began to walk past you and you grabbed her arm, pulling as hard as you could. She was significantly larger and stronger than you, so you weren’t surprised when your efforts made little difference.

“You don’t get to just walk away in the middle of an important conversation! Stop being a fuckin-” She turned quickly, large body almost caging you against the wall. If you wanted to, it wouldn’t be hard for you to simply go left or right and move away from her. But now, her body was close, and warmth was bouncing between the two of you, and well, the same need from earlier came back.

“Stop.” She demanded, tone low. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as if talking to you was the most taxing thing on this earth. She stood there for more than a moment, eyes drilled into yours with an innate sense of fury. This was her breaking point. She wondered how long it would take when she first met you. You were driving her fucking insane.

“Make me.” You spat, angrily. She almost did. Truly. Well, until you did it for her.

She backed up and you followed her, chasing her heat. Before you knew it, the cotton of her shirt was in your hands and you were clumsily pulling her forward, pressing up on your toes until your mouth was pressed against hers. By some miracle, she didn’t fight it. Her large hands cupped your face, pulling you in and pressed her lips harshly to yours.

She wasted no time before she was running her tongue along your lips and pushing it into your mouth, knees practically weak when you moaned like a fucking slut. She wasn’t especially gentle when she pushed you against the wall behind you, but her tongue down your throat and her knee between your legs made up for it.

Your hands begged to run down her figure, but you weren’t exactly in the position to take control, so you instead placed them around her neck, pulling on the short hair on the back of it. Her hands met your hips, pinning you to the wall so that you wouldn’t grind against her. You pulled back from her lips, meeting her angry eyes once again before dropping your lips to her neck, sucking a dark hickey into it.

“Fuck,” she groaned, “‘course you like trashy shit like this.” she continued as you left several more. Your hands dragged down her front, finding her chest promptly. “Upstairs, now.” She pulled back from you, but you grabbed her hand and pulled her behind you. You had only been in her room briefly to acquire your phone, so the details of it had never been your focus. But now, you focused on the purple color of her sheets and the ambiance of it.

Like a pornstar, you pushed her back onto the bed, slipping your dress over her head and finding purchase in her lap. Her hand ran along your stomach, admiring your body briefly before closing her eyes. “This isn’t right, darlin’. ‘m too mad, and I promised y’r daddy I would get you straight.” You giggled.

“I like mad.” you insisted, tugging your lip between your teeth and grinding your hips into her, urging her to open her eyes. You leaned in, warm breath hitting her ear. “Put me in my place?” You squealed when she lifted you up and flipped you, trapping you under her.

“You ain’t gonna get what you want from this. ‘m gon’ fuck some sense into that pretty head, huh?” You nodded, smiling too wide to focus on anything she was saying. You were a fucking airhead, god, there were so many things she wanted to do to you.

You didn’t have anything but a cheap pair of panties under the dress, meaning that she had spent the last several minutes attempting to focus on anything that wasn’t your tits. But now? Now her mouth was blessing your left nipple, tugging it into her mouth and sucking, pinning you down with a hand on your lower stomach once again. She wanted to fuck the shit out of you, sure, but you weren’t getting what you wanted any time soon.

She switched tits, kneading the other with her palm. As she sucked, her fingers pulled at your nipple, creating the perfect combination of soft and rough. You were moaning like a bitch in heat, and she adored it. You were so fucking easy, letting her in your pants like it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t long before she was kissing her way down to your panties, keeping eye contact with you as she did it. She looked like an animal hunting its prey, and the prey was you. You realized, then, that she had you exactly where she wanted you.

You knew you were in for it when she took a fat lick from the bottom of your cunt to the top, over your panties. You whined, back arching off the bed as your head fell back. She planned to eat you over your panties until you cried and begged for her, but she couldn’t take it. You were soaked through, like floodgates opened between your legs, and she needed you.

She pulled your panties down your legs, pushing your thighs apart until you were fully on display for her. “She’s so pretty, isn’t she?” she mocked, not breaking her gaze on your pussy. She leaned in, hands dropping to the backs of your thighs, and pressed a kiss to your clit. Your hips twitched and you whined again, lacing one of your hands in her hair.

She ate you like the world was ending.

Her tongue blessed all the pretty places that you needed it, flicking against your clit and fucking into you, sucking up every last drop that you had. She loved it, loved the way you moaned and twitched and begged for her to not stop, never stop. You were halfway to your orgasm and she pulled up, looking as if she was in an absolute daze.

“Gon’ make you a housewife, baby. Eat this pussy whenever I want, how’s that sound? Fuck, look at you,” her middle finger circled your entrance, gathering all of her spit and your slick. You sucked her in as she pushed it in knuckle by knuckle, and she swore she blacked out. “Pretty girl just needed the snob fucked out of her, didn’t you?” you could’ve cried when she added another finger, crooking them up into the perfect spot. “Answer me, slut.”

“Yes, yes,” you cried, “please, whenever you want.” She grinned, like this was the best day of her life. With two fingers pumping in you, she kept her mouth busy on your clit, sucking hard until you were quite literally crying, tears streaming down your face as your stomach twisted.

You clenched down hard on her fingers and she pulled them out, stopping everything. You whined, lifting your hips to chase her. “Bad girls don’t get to come. Open,” she tapped your bottom lip and you did as told, taking her wet fingers in your mouth. She couldn’t stand you, couldn’t stand the way you squirmed and pushed your thighs together as you sucked her fingers, knowing that it made you so wet. “Lay across my lap, yeah, good girl.”

Notably, her kind sense of security was short lived once you were across her lap.

“Count. If you stop counting we start over, y’understand?” You nodded, unsure of what was about to happen until her mech hand came in harsh against your left ass cheek. You squeaked, hurling forward and gripping the sheets. “What’d I say, peach? Gonna count or get hit?”

“One,” you whimpered, crying out again when her hand came down on the other side. It felt so good. “Two,” she went back and forth until your ass was beet red, and you got to a sparse ten. You almost asked her to keep going, but with the way your cunt was drooling on her lap, she couldn’t possibly keep going.

“Up,” she instructed, tapping your ass twice. “Face the mirror, ass up, tits down.” You giggled again, knowing exactly what was coming. Doggy was probably your favorite position, but doggy facing a mirror had to be heaven on earth.

By the time you got your shit together enough to do as told, she was already back, pajama pants stripped and harness clinging to her hips. Sevika had the body of a god, truthfully. You had always gotten wet over her arms, but her abs and her hips were nothing less than god-like. All of her was simply perfect.

The strap hanging from the harness wasn’t anything like something you had seen or taken before. It was long and wide, with veins to detail. She had lube in one hand, from what you could see over your shoulder, but you couldn’t see what was in the other. She climbed up on the bed, kneeling behind you as she placed her series of materials down. First, she took your wrists and pinned them behind your back with a pair of silk handcuffs, and then she lubed up her strap until it was ready for you.

Gods, she could’ve come on spot when she teased your entrance with the tip. You moaned like a fucking whore, rocking back into her as your cunt begged. The tip alone had your eyes rolling back in your head, and your state didn’t improve as she continued pushing. “Sev,” you whined, “it won’t fit, ‘s too big,” you cried out, and she laughed at you.

“You’ll make it fit, won’t you, bunny? Yeah, you will.” And, well, you did. The strap hit its hilt, filling you to the absolute brim. Watching your pussy stretch around her dick had to be the best thing she’d ever seen. “Fuck, peach, knew you were trouble but I didn’t think you’d be such a whore, too.” She placed her large palm on your back, pressing down on your shoulder blades so that your back arched as far as it could.

She moved slowly, head thrown back as she listened to the noises you made. Not only were you moaning out of your mind, but your cunt squelched with every thrust, wetting her hips as your skin slapped together. The scene in the mirror was obscene, filthy even. You looked like a whore, jaw slacked and eyes in the back of your head as she plowed into you.

However, it all got dramatically worse when she pulled you up, so that you kneeled in front of her as she fucked you. Her large arm wrapped around your throat, bicep digging into your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around her arm, but in comparison, they were small. She held you like that until your brain got fuzzy, unrelenting in her pace. She used her free hand on your clit, rubbing it just the way you needed.

“Y’r so fuckin’ full, sweet girl. See that in y’r belly? ‘s my dick.” You could see it, the way her strap poked out in your stomach with every thrust of her hips. Filthy. It was the only way to describe it. “God, imagine if I could jus’ have you whenever I wanted you,” her arm loosened around your throat, but instead of pushing you back down, she pressed two fingers into your mouth.

Sevika could hardly deal with the sight of you. She had already come once, most definitely, but the vision of you in front of her could make her come again on command. You were so fucked out, so pliant. So willing to do whatever she wanted. “What’d y’r parents think if they saw you like this, huh? What if I fill you up, get you pregnant?” You could’ve screamed, but a loud whimper was the best she got.

She pulled her fingers from her mouth and bent you back over, grabbing your hips rather than pressing between your shoulder blades. “Please,” you begged, “please get me pregnant,” she threw her head back yet again, orgasm building in her stomach. “Please, please please, fill me up, Vika, please,” she groaned as she came against the back of the harness, hips stuttering and abs flexing.

“Gonna fill you up and make you a mommy, ain’t that right, pretty baby?” You moaned again, too gone for words. Tears streamed down your face as her pace started again, unrelenting yet again. She fucked into you so hard that the bedframe shook, and soon enough, that familiar feeling was developing in your stomach. “‘m gon’ stuff you full of my dick everyday, shit,”

You screamed when you came, and it got a million times better when a warm liquid filled you, making it feel like Sevika had, in fact, filled you up. When she pulled out of you, she almost came again. Your cum and hers dripped from your hole down your cunt, and she watched you twitch and drool into the bedsheets.

She was going to clean you up, of course, but your pussy had her fucking entranced.She knew she was fucked, she knew there wasn’t ever going to be a moment moving forward where she didn’t want you on her face. And now, every time you acted up, she could fuck you into oblivion.

She got you cleaned up and in clean clothes, tucked into her bed with her, head on her chest. “That get you in line?” She joked, brushing hair off of your face.

“I don’t know, maybe we’ll have to go again for good measure.” You teased, pressing your nose into her jaw as your lips found her neck again. You left a couple more hickies on the side of her neck that you didn’t hit earlier and she chuckled.

“Why’d’ya like those so much? Looks a little trashy to me.” You sighed. Of course it did, it was a younger group thing, and she was not in your age range.

“Jus’ makin’ what’s mine.” You giggled. She laughed with you, until you were both laughing. Maybe this arrangement wasn’t going to be as bad as you thought it would be.

tags: @ferxanda @skullsbown @watashiwaglr38 @angelllbabyy @rbnvrnxoxo @sweetnfemme @abbyanderswife @ellieshothousewife @2sosa @averysmorgue @ivorydevil @bunbunpudding @beatdariceee @that-one-daydream-you-forgot @jennylettersonsgf @furrytaesss @sunflowerwinds @ghost-queen101 @prettyyyy-girl

[bitterpngs]

i genuinely should’ve just kept my mouth shut i keep feeling so frustrated and upset

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends?

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Worried about how his new relationship seems to be changing him, you talk to Azriel about your concerns. Things take a turn when he refuses to listen.

Warnings: some wine sipping, gossiping, angst, miscommunication, friend fighting, jealousy (but no one realizes), az being defensive and blind

Word Count: 5k

(Completed) Series Masterlist | Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“It’s not that I don’t like her.”

The words tasted as false as they were, and you grimaced the moment they slipped out, already bracing for the look Mor would throw your way. True to form, she didn’t disappoint, her expression halfway between amusement and exasperation.

A defeated sigh escaped as you accepted the glass of wine she offered, watching as she filled her own nearly to the brim.

“You’re better than me, then,” she hummed, settling back onto the couch across from you. “Because I don’t like her.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t like many people nowadays.”

She shrugged, casual as ever, though a smirk tugged at her lips. “True. I’m not exactly lining up for any peace medals, am I?”

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair. “I just… have this odd feeling about her, you know?”

Mor tilted her head, letting out a noncommittal hum. “Oh, I know. She drags Az around on a leash.”

You were tempted to say something about the irony in her words—remind her, in a loving manner, that she might've been guilty of that once upon a time, too. But you decided against it. She wasn't wrong.

You swirled the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid move in slow, mesmerizing circles. The feeling wasn’t new; it had been there since the first time you’d met her. Azriel’s new girlfriend Selene was perfectly fine—charming, even. But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Like a faint hum in the background of a quiet room, just irritating enough to notice but not enough to prove anything was wrong.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

You glanced up, finding Mor’s bright brown eyes sharp and focused on you, the lazy humor of a moment ago gone.

“I doubt he’ll listen,” you admitted, resting the bottom of your glass on your thigh. “He didn’t listen to you.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

Mor raised a brow like she wanted to argue, but she only sighed in response. “He’s been so weird about his love life. Gwyn didn’t work out. Elain’s probably the happiest out of all of us. Maybe he’s treading lightly.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though you weren’t convinced.

Azriel had changed in small, almost imperceptible ways since everything had settled—since everyone had paired off and fallen in love. Everyone except you. And him.

You were fine with your situation, content in the quiet steadiness of your life. Azriel wasn’t. You knew it. He knew it, though he’d never admit it. So much of his self-worth was tangled up in whether he believed himself worthy of love. And the absence of it—of a solid, undeniable love in his life, of a partner, of a potential bond—seemed to weigh on him. To him, it wasn’t just an empty space; it was a failure.

You’d almost go as far as to say he’d become desperate, living in the shadows and watching his brothers experience loves so profound they might as well have been plucked from stories meant to inspire poets and dreamers.

Mating bonds were rare. You reminded yourself of that often. Your family was just an anomaly, their luck skewed impossibly high. But logic wasn’t enough to soothe Azriel, and it certainly wouldn’t stop him from chasing it. He was obsessive. Stubborn.

Nothing you said or did could change his perspective.

Mor’s voice pulled you out of your head again. “Speak of the devil,” she sang out. “Hi, Elain.”

Your gaze snapped up to the doorway, finding Elain standing just beyond the archway. She looked like a spooked deer, frozen in place with that polite smile you’d come to recognize as her default around company she hadn’t fully warmed up to yet.

“We were just talking about Azriel’s unfortunate romantic history,” Mor said smoothly. You glanced at Elain for her reaction.

It had taken time for that particular history to fade. Maybe it was appropriate to joke about now, but you personally would’ve waited a few more years before bringing it up so flippantly. Mor, however, had little patience for such niceties.

Elain’s expression didn’t shift beyond a faint flicker in her eyes, and you realized how much her composure had improved over the years. Then again, it had been a while since she and Lucien had found each other for good—long enough for their bond to solidify and for them to leave for the Day Court after their mating ceremony.

A twinge of jealousy sparked in you before you brushed it aside.

“We’re just gossiping in general. Want to join us?” you asked, gesturing to the chair beside you. Plush and inviting, it mirrored the one you sat on. “Unless Lucien is waiting for you upstairs?”

Elain’s cheeks flushed crimson. 

“Lucien’s still with Feyre, catching up,” she said, stepping further into the room. “What are you drinking?”

Mor reached for the bottle on the table, plucking it up and turning it in her hand to read the label.

“Something good and expensive,” she replied, with a half-hearted air of indulgence, before tilting her head at Elain with a faint grin.

“It’s from Rhys’s rather gluttonous collection,” you said, sensing Elain’s hesitation. “It won’t be missed at all.”

She smiled at that. “I’d love some.”

“There are a lot of glasses in that cabinet,” you said, pointing to the wood door with ornate carvings. “Grab whichever one you’d like.”

Mor sat up straighter, scooting herself back into the pillows behind her. You hummed, impressed, at her ability to hold both her full wine glass and the bottle without so much as a wobble.

You hadn’t spent much time with Elain one-on-one. Emissary duties had kept you busy during the years the Archeron sisters had adjusted to their new lives. But you liked Elain, from what you’d seen. She had a kind heart. She also had a sharp humor that surfaced at the oddest moments, usually when she and Lucien were whispering in corners, conspiratorial before seamlessly rejoining whatever social event they were at like they’d never left.

Elain returned and sat down with her chosen glass—a delicate crystal piece that gleamed in the soft light. Mor went to fill it instantly. 

“Can I ask why you were discussing Azriel’s romantic life?” Elain asked. Her voice was smooth, certain. No hesitation.

It didn’t faze her anymore, you realized—being such a strange, pivotal turning point in Azriel’s past experiences. She’d made peace with it, the way immortality seemed to demand. Time softened the edges of even the messiest situations, turning them into stories you could recount with startling detachment. Almost humorous, really.

Because how else could you explain being casual about the fact that your best friend had almost allowed his pride—and arrogance—and, somehow simultaneously, his insecurity—to lead him into a blood duel over Elain’s affections? A blood duel.

But now, it was just… something to write off. A distant memory, softened by the years and Lucien’s easy confidence. Lucien was better than you. You would’ve held that grudge against Azriel for many more years—long enough to make it a point of pride. But then again, Lucien had won everything he wanted in the end. He had the girl, the bond, the certainty that whatever lingering rivalry Azriel might feel was entirely one-sided.

It wasn’t important enough for Lucien to waste any more energy on.

You exchanged a glance with Mor, who arched a brow, clearly just as amused by Elain’s openness.

“Y/n doesn’t like his new girlfriend,” Mor said.

Your mouth fell open. “You don’t either.”

“True,” Mor agreed easily. She looked to Elain. “We don’t like her.”

“For clarification,” you said firmly, “I never said I didn’t like her.”

Mor laughed, sipping her wine with an amused grin.

Your face fell flat. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied breezily. “But if you get a bad feeling about someone, that’s usually dislike.”

You resisted the urge to scowl, already turning over the guilt in your mind. You didn’t want to be that person—the kind who dismissed another female off the bat. Maybe your gut was wrong this time. Maybe her smile had reached her eyes, and you’d been too preoccupied to notice. Maybe her tone hadn’t been as assessing as you remembered, and you were projecting. You wanted to like her. You wanted to be happy for Azriel.

But he didn’t seem happy. He seemed distracted. Busy. Not himself.

And not the kind of busy you’d seen before—the methodical, obsessive focus he funneled into work or training. This was different, scattered in a way you couldn’t quite pin down. It had made sense in the beginning, when things were new and exciting, but now it was starting to feel uncomfortable. He’d started missing things—small things at first, like sparring sessions or those late-night conversations you, Mor, and him would have when you couldn’t sleep. Then came the bigger things. He’d stopped being able to review external court updates with you, even when those meetings were critical for your diplomatic roles.

Azriel had always been the one you could count on. Out of everyone, you considered him your closest friend—even more than Mor, though you’d never admit it out loud. But now it seemed like every time you made plans, Selene needed him more.

And then there was how fast it was all moving. Too fast. At a recent family dinner, she’d casually mentioned that she and Azriel could move in together—offhand, like it was the most obvious next step. Something about leaving the townhouse behind, creating a space with décor that matched her aesthetic. Azriel had just stayed quiet, looked at her like she’d just proposed the most brilliant idea in existence.

You noticed he did that. The way he looked at her. The way he’d looked at Elain and Gwyn back when they were seeing each other. It weirded you out—that tendency to put the people he saw as romantic interests on a pedestal, as though they were flawless. As though they were something he didn’t deserve.

You knew where it came from. That deep-rooted insecurity that even centuries hadn’t managed to erase. He didn’t see it, the way he wore himself down trying to prove his worth to people who, for the most part, had already accepted him. But you saw it. You always had.

And it made it harder to like Selene. To trust her intentions. Maybe that was unfair, but you couldn’t help but feel like she was just taking—taking all the parts of Azriel that used to be all of yours to share, and twisting them into something else. Something that didn’t include his family.

Still, you wanted to try. To let go of the gnawing irritation in your chest and convince yourself it didn’t matter. If she made him happy—truly happy—then none of it should matter. You were adamant on ensuring that you didn’t turn into the stereotypical overbearing female best friend.

Elain tapped her glass lightly. “Lucien doesn’t like her.”

You blinked back into reality. “Really?”

She nodded, a beat passing before she added, “To be honest, I’m not sure I do either.”

Mor leaned forward, grinning like she’d been handed a stack of gold. You almost wished Amren was here to bask in the moment. Amren didn’t like Azriel’s girlfriend, either. Maybe your family really was as unwelcoming as people claimed. Or maybe Selene simply brought out another level of scrutiny. The thought of either option made you feel bad— gross. 

“Why?” Mor asked.

“She was dismissive toward Lucien. And,” Elain hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly, “She seemed… entitled, I suppose. Especially with Azriel. Like she expected him to accommodate her every whim.”

You frowned, turning over her words. “I’m sure she was just nervous. We can be an intimidating group. Maybe she just needs time to settle in. We just want Az to be happy, right? So, if she makes him happy, then I’m absolutely fine with her.”

The silence that followed was thick. For a moment, you wondered if you’d said something wrong. Something weird.

“Are you?” Elain asked, her tone sincere.

“Are you?” Mor echoed at the same time, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shot Mor a glare, but she only raised her brows and sipped her wine again, infuriatingly unbothered. Exhaling, you willed yourself to meet Elain’s gaze.

“I am,” you said, trying for conviction. “Really.”

Elain pursed her lips. Her gaze shifted to Mor, lingering longer than you liked, and then back to you.

“Alright,” she hummed. “I guess I was wrong.”

You stilled. Elain reclined deeper into her seat, accepting a refill from Mor. Her wine glass remained only half-full compared to yours and Mor’s.

Curiosity burned. You leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Elain furrowed her brows. “What do I mean about what?”

“You said you guess you were wrong. What does that mean?”

Mor’s gaze bored into the side of your face. Any second now, you were sure she’d make some quip about how bothered you were. But you weren’t bothered. Just curious.

Elain swirled her wine, watching the light catch the liquid. “I’m not sure. Things feel off. Like something’s coming. Az needs help with it, I think.”

You froze. “Off? Like—how?”

She hesitated, thoughtful. “It’s hard to explain,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “But I feel it. In my chest. My visions sometimes do that. That’s why I asked.”

Well, that unsettled you. You glanced at Mor, whose amused grin had fallen into something more contemplative.

It seemed you might need to have a conversation with Azriel after all.

“I don’t like that,” you admitted, your nose crinkling. 

“I think I heard him get back earlier. Go talk to him,” Mor said, her tone gentler now, though a hint of mischief lingered in her eyes. You didn’t read too much into that. Mor’s eyes tended to be expressive. She also tended to be mischievous when her blood was primarily red wine. 

“Okay,” you said. “Maybe just to check in.”

Elain nodded. “Just to check in,” she echoed, almost reassuring.

“Have fun,” Mor added, her grin returning just enough to be annoying, but not enough to distract you from the unease curling in your chest.

You didn’t respond, instead taking another slow sip of your drink. The glass clinked softly as you set it down on the table before you made your way upstairs.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Mor turned to Elain. “Did you really feel something that unsettling?”

Elain let out a laugh. “No,” she said lightly. “I completely made that up. But she doesn’t need to know that.”

Mor���s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Seconds later, her head tilted back in a laugh just as vibrant as it was unapologetic.

“Genius,” she declared, raising her glass in mock salute.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The walk upstairs was quiet.

The townhome, in general, was quieter nowadays. Aside from the times others came to visit—like Lucien and Elain—only you and Azriel lived here full time.

When you reached Azriel’s bedroom door, your steps faltered for a moment. There was a hesitation in you that hadn't existed before. You raised your hand to knock, but the action felt more awkward than usual. It made you sad, momentarily, that you hesitated. You never second-guessed yourself with Azriel. You wanted to tread carefully in this new era of his life, though. You didn’t want to overstep, to become a nuisance. But whatever this was—whatever had unsettled Elain enough to mention it—you needed to know. Azriel had always been a constant for you, and if something felt “off,” you wanted to understand why.

Your knuckles rapped lightly on the door. “Az?” 

Inside, you heard the shuffle of movement, followed by his low, familiar voice. “Come in.”

You didn’t see Azriel immediately, but the smell of soap and the damp air told you that he recently showered. Shadows slithered across the floor, comfortable and excited, exploring the familiar confines of his room.

You greeted the tendrils as you usually did, letting them brush against your legs as you flopped onto his bed. The bed, like everything else in his room, was simple: plain black sheets, no extravagant pillows, just the bare necessities. It used to drive you mad, the emptiness of it all.  But what was in his room spoke volumes—— bare walls except for a dagger mount on one side, a small uncluttered desk with a well-worn sharpening stone. 

Azriel exiting the bathroom pulled your attention, your eyes settling on him as he rubbed his wet hair thoroughly with a towel. He shook his head slightly, wet curls bouncing onto his forehead, and met your gaze. His eyes flicked to where you lay, scanning your body. He nodded toward your feet.

“C’mon,” he almost whined. “No shoes on the bed.”

You looked down at yourself, grimacing as you realized that your shoes were, indeed, on his clean comforter. A simple set of house slippers, so nothing entirely too dirty, but it had completely slipped your mind. Very comfortable shoes, you noted, maybe you’d get Feyre a pair as a solstice gift.

“Oh whoops,” you said with an apologetic smile. “My bad, clean freak.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the quirk of his lips anyways.

For a moment, the old sense of comfort settled over you. But then, a thought crept in—the thought that maybe you shouldn’t lie on his bed like this anymore. It had been fine before, but now… now it felt different. He had someone else in his life. It wasn’t weird, exactly, but it was a little inappropriate.

You sat up straighter.

“Did you and Mor grow tired of rehashing the same centuries old gossip?” He teased.

You snorted, watching as his shadows flitted above his shoulders. They were amused, laughing in their own way. “Never,” you responded, pushing yourself off his bed. You were drawn to the otherside of his room, to the simple dresser against the wall. “Elain joined us this time.”

Your back was to him, but you had a feeling that the momentary silence, the stillness that you felt, was a knee-jerk reaction from Azriel—something reminiscent of embarrassment, shame, or guilt at her name. But all he responded was, “Oh?”

“I like her,” you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I kinda wish I spent more time with her…”

You paused, your words trailing off quietly as you took in the small details before you. 

Azriel’s dresser had always been the one surface he decorated, not because he cared for decoration, but because it was the only surface large enough to hold anything. Over the years, it had become a quiet testament to the things that mattered to him: a mix of Solstice and birthday gifts, trinkets you’d both collected on missions and trips. You liked seeing what had changed, what had been added. It gave you a glimpse into where Azriel had been, who had been with him. 

Lately, there had been more—more trinkets, more oddities that stood in stark contrast to the weapons displayed elsewhere, the ones mostly hidden away in his closet. A macaroni necklace from Nyx. A horribly made clay version of him you’d created during a drunken pottery night with Feyre, Mor, and Amren.

But now, the dresser was foreign. The once familiar surface had been wiped clean, replaced by delicate perfume bottles, jewelry that looked too fine to be his, and a candle that smelled—oddly—like the puke of a flower faerie. Some of it was new. Most of it was hers.

Azriel’s presence had vanished from his own furniture entirely.

“Huh.”

“What?” Azriel asked.

You glanced over your shoulder. “I see you’ve decorated more.”

Azriel tilted his head, and a few of his shadows slithered down his body, crossing the room to pool around your ankles. “I guess,” he said. “Selene said my room needed more life.”

You leaned forward, brushing your fingers along the ceramic jewelry dish, the cool surface sending a strange chill through your skin. The shadows flickered over your hand, almost as if they were inspecting it too. They moved with purpose, then slowly obscured it, hiding it from view.

You frowned, confused.

Azriel, still silent, was rifling through his closet. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you as he moved, but he said nothing. The shadows returned to his side as you turned to look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Now, Azriel barely spared you a glance.

“Yeah. Meeting Selene,” he replied simply.

After a few seconds of silence, Azriel turned his head and properly held your gaze. “Why? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a casual wave of your hand, but Elain’s words echoed in your mind. You cleared your throat. “Well, actually, no. I was hoping I could talk to you.”

He frowned, standing up straighter, his wings flexing with the motion. “Is it something serious?”

You paused, carefully filtering through your words. “No, just something that’s been on my mind.”

Azriel studied you, doubt flickering in his hazel eyes. It was the kind of look that always made you feel like he was reading you too easily. He probably didn’t believe you, not entirely—but he nodded anyway. His lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “Raincheck then?”

You mirrored his smile, though it felt thin. “Yeah, sure. We can talk tomorrow, once we’re back from the Hewn City.”

Azriel stilled. The way his gaze dropped to the floor and lingered felt like a guilty dog, an animal caught in an act forbidden. “Shit,” he said, his tone cautious. “I can’t go.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to settle. “Seriously? Az, Rhys is expecting an update.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere enough. It didn’t matter. “But you can handle it on your own, you know this.” 

“Are you serious?” you said, the hurt slipping out before you could stop it. “I don’t want to deal with Keir alone.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to Rhys, but Selene’s been wanting to—”

“Never mind,” you cut him off, shaking your head. You forced a smile. “Have fun tonight. And tomorrow.”

Azriel scanned your face. After another moment of silence, he sighed.

“Okay, what is it?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You clearly have something on your mind. Tell me.”

You hesitated, holding his gaze. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Selene.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened instantly. He looked away, his tongue running across his teeth as he shook his head. “Not you too. Don’t be like this.”

Your frown deepened, offended by the immediate shift in tone. “Be like what? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

He met your eyes again, his stare almost challenging. “We both know what you’re going to say.”

“Do we?”

“First Mor, then Nesta, and now you.” His voice was sharp, but not loud. “Should I be concerned that the females in my life are so quick to rally against my girlfriend?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms to mirror his pose. “Well, yeah, Az. Maybe you should be.”

He rolled his eyes, the shadows at his feet flickering with the motion. “Fine. What do you want to tell me, then?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the words lingering on the edge of your tongue. Azriel had always been good at looking through you, unraveling thoughts you hadn’t fully formed yet. And now, under the weight of his sharp gaze, you felt exposed.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

Something flickered in his expression, quick and fleeting—too fast for you to decipher. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt unreadable, like he’d drawn a curtain between himself and you. “Really?” he asked, his tone tight, almost incredulous.

You faltered, a small thread of doubt weaving its way through your resolve. Was he happy? Would he even tell you if he wasn’t?

“Yes, really,” you replied, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “You’ve been distant lately. Running around at her beck and call. None of us know her. I want to understand what’s going on with you. I want to understand her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, his gaze hardening.

“I want to make sure this is the kind of relationship you want,” you finished, quieter now.

The room fell into silence, heavy and still. Azriel watched you as if he was turning your words over and over in his mind. You waited, unsure of what to expect—if anything at all.

“I wouldn’t be in a relationship I didn’t want. Can we drop it, please.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What a strange, dismissive answer. It bothered you— bothered you more than anything he’d ever told you before. 

“Az, I just don’t want you to change who you are for someone. You don’t need to cater to her every whim.”

His expression darkened, shadows curling tighter around his boots. “I’m her boyfriend. I do what she asks.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the scoff that slipped out. Azriel had never been so clipped with you. “That’s not the definition of a boyfriend. That’s the definition of a bitch.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, his wings flaring in irritation. “Excuse me?”  His voice cut through the room. “Do you really think I’m some incompetent love-sick loser?”

“I think you stop seeing flaws in the people you love.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you’d anticipated. A small part of you wondered if “love” was the word Azriel would use to describe his feelings for her. Another part worried that he didn’t correct you.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” he snapped. “I can clearly see that you’re being unfair. Quick to judge, much like Mor. That’s a flaw.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, “You know what I meant. The people you’re infatuated with—”

“Where is this sudden concern coming from?” he interrupted, his shadows now beginning to curl between you like restless mediators, unsure where to settle. “Are you trying to cause issues?”

Something ran hot through your body.

“Seriously? I’m talking to you about this because I care. Because Elain had some cryptic feeling about you—”

“Elain is involved in this conversation, too?” His voice dripped with frustration now. “Gods, Y/n, should I send word for Gwyn while we’re at it? Get her opinion?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” You took an authoritative step forward.  “I’ve never judged you. I’ve always tried to support you and your messy love life, no matter how complicated. Don’t you trust me, Azriel? As a friend?”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his shadows flickering uncertainly, still deciding whether to retreat or rise.

You gestured around the room. “Look at this place. You’ve erased all traces of your family—of you, of us. Where did you even put—”

“Oh, gods.” Azriel’s voice broke through, and for a moment, you thought he might crumble. His wings folded, and his hand dragged across his face, the weight of his exhaustion sinking in. “She was right.”

You froze. “What?”

Azriel met your gaze, his eyes hesitant for a heartbeat before turning sharp. “About you. Selene said you were jealous. That you had feelings for me.”

The words hit like a slap, and your world tilted on its axis. “What?” you asked again, your voice breaking on the word. Maybe you had misheard him. Maybe he had misspoken.

“I told her she was wrong. But now…” He let the sentence hang in the air, searching your face for something that maybe wasn’t even there.

“Now, what?” Your voice rose, tinged with anger. “You think I’m here because I’m jealous? Because I have some… crush on you?”

His wings flared slightly at your tone, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know. It’s just—why else would you care so much about this?”

Your stomach twisted, a deep, cold ache settling there. “Why else?” you repeated, the words bitter on your tongue. “Because I care about you, Azriel. Because you’ve been my friend for centuries. Are you seriously confused about this?” 

For a moment, Azriel’s expression faltered, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, he said, “I didn’t ask you to care about my love life.”

“You didn’t have to,” you snapped, stepping closer. “That’s what friends do. But you’re standing there, letting her perception of me—someone who doesn’t even know me—warp your judgment. You’ve known me longer than that. Or at least, I thought you did. And the fact that you’d entertain this—” You stopped, shaking your head. “It’s insulting.”

Azriel said nothing. He just stood there, shadows now curling tighter around him. 

You had no idea how this conversation had gotten away from you, no idea how it turned into this—where this defensiveness, this anger, had come from. This wasn’t Azriel. Loyal, overly so. Impulsive. Protective. 

Or maybe it was. Maybe that loyalty was directed at someone else now—someone who clearly saw you as something threatening. You’d never been on the other side of Azriel before. Never thought you’d see the day. The realization hit like a slap to the face, leaving you shocked, stunned, a pit opening in your stomach that felt too deep to climb out of.

“You know what? Forget it.” You stepped back, the fight draining out of you all at once.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Really? That’s it?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your lips curving into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so bitter. “Yeah,” you said, your voice flat. “That’s it.”

You turned for the door, hand on the handle, but paused. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, sharp and pointed, a petty jab that felt equal parts satisfying and hollow. “Make sure to lock this door when you leave—I’d hate to accidentally stumble back in and throw myself at you.”

Azriel stiffened, his wings snapping taut behind him. For a brief second, you thought he might say something, anything. But he didn’t.

You closed the door behind you with a heavy thud.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: no one tell them they probs have feelings for each other bc they’ll probably fight you (also elains moment is so self indulgent bc i would totally be making shit up based off my powers. like yeah actually you can’t be mean to be :/ powers are saying you’ll die if you are)

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows

azriel tag list 🫶🏻:@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder  @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits @honethatty12

[babyboy555777]

Overheard

Summary: Rafe over hears you and Sarah talking about your night at the beach with a hookup.

CW: possessive Rafe, rough sex, name calling, unprotected sex (wrap before tap), bit of choking and hair pulling, forced to stay quiet, mirror sex. (Should be it)

(Did not proofread bc this took me so long already.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You and Sarah had been friends for years. You moved to Outer Banks as a child and took quite a liking to Sarah and her family. You were always known to drop in whenever you felt needed. You shared many nights at their house and basically became a part of the family.

On this specific day it was like any other. You hopped in your jeep and quickly sped off to Tannyhill. Soon arriving in the circle driveway of the mansion you quickly got out and headed to the door knocking loud, so you were heard.

The door was swung open by none other than the snarky stuck-up brother of your best friend, Rafe Cameron. “You don’t have to knock.” He sighed “you basically live here anyway.” He scolded you. You pushed past him and into the entrance way of the house.

“Where’s Sarah?” Rafe shut the door and then pointed up the stairs to her room. “Where she always is waiting for you.” You nodded your head at him giving him one last look before making your way up to her room. He watched as you quickly sprinted up the stairs. Watching as your hips moved and how your ass was in perfect view.

He shook his head relieving the thought of you knowing how wrong it was. Soon he made his way up the stairs as well to his own room that was until he heard you talking in a not so quiet voice to his sister.

"I wouldn't say it was awful, just not what I wanted." Sarah cocked a brow to you. "Well, what did you want. I mean you wanted to have sex with him, right? What more could you want. You practically begged me for his number." She chuckled.

"Yes, I did." Rafe moved closer to the crack in the door leaning his ear closer. He listened closely to your words. "What does she mean" he thought to himself.

Yes, Rafe knew you, but he thought he knew you well enough. He never saw you as the type to beg for sex with someone, or much less really want it.

In his head you always were the type to never come off as sexual but definitely not innocent. He truly just thought that in this world full of sex you had no idea what you were doing or had any care for it, and he was so wrong.

"Okay yes I wanted it. Like the party last week, I wanted to just be dragged off with him somewhere because I thought he'd fuck the shit out of me. See that's what I wanted." You crossed your arms and huffed.

"Okay, then what happened that you didn't like? Was it the fact it was on the beach or like what?"

"I guess the best way I could put it is I wanted it to me more filled with lust and desire. I wanted it to be rough and I wanted to not be able to walk today." You chuckled along with Sarah.

"Well how did it go for you?" You sighed trying to think back to last night. "Well, he took me out on the beach, and he had a blanket with him. Talking happens and whatever and I end up straddling his lap."

Sarah nodded her head waiting for you to continue, but Rafe stood out the door as he held his breath. He was pissed. You fucking some other man and he didn't even do it right pissed him off more. But he stayed quiet.

"We made out a bit and I started to grind on him a bit. Obviously, he got a rise up, so I got all cocky and pulled his dick out. After a few moments of me just doing my thing, I pulled my bikini bottoms off and rode him. He was like..." You paused trying to find your words.

"It was like he never wanted it to end and not saying I don't like that, but I asked if he could get on top and we'd go faster he just straight up refused. Which basically dried me up and I didn't even want to do it anymore."

Sarah tried to hold back her laughter. "Hey, it's not funny I'm being dead serious." You smacked her arm but laughed as well.

Rafe was the only one not laughing. Red filled his face with anger, and he scoffed at your words. "Didn't even fuck her the way she wanted. What a pussy." He thought.

"Well maybe you'll find someone who just rocks your world." Sarah smirked. "Yeah, as if." But only if you knew what little plan Rafe had planted into his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That same day you had planned on staying the night with Sarah. Of course, to everyone in the house it was no surprise. It was now late at night and Sarah was asleep. However, you sat awake in her bed scrolling mindlessly on your phone till a text popped up.

"Come here."

You read the text from Rafe. Confusion spread across your face. You texted back.

"Sarahs asleep. Where are you?"

"My room. Just come here you won't wake her, she's a heavy sleeper."

You sighed and turned off your phone placing it on the nightstand beside you. Slowly you rose up from the bed making your way to the bedroom door making sure to stay as quiet as possible.

You looked back at Sarah one last time before closing the door. You slowly tiptoed your way down the hall to Rafe's room. You raised your hand to the door knocking slow and quiet. Soon Rafe opened up the door nodding his head telling you to come in.

As you walked in you looked around the room that was dimly lit by the small lamp setting you realized you had never seen Rafe's room before. "I have never been in here." You turn back and look at him leaning up against the door. "Cleaner than I thought." You chuckled.

He shrugged. "Don't know why you'd ever think that. I believe I come off as a clean person." He paused. "Unlike you." You looked at him confused for a moment as he stepped closer to you, his rich cologne filled your nostrils.

"I heard you. Talking to my sister earlier today." He walked behind you. "How you wanted to be fucked hard." He leaned in closer to your ear whispering. "How you want it to be filled with lust and desire."

His words sent chills down your spine and your own words choked up. "So, fucking dirty and here I was thinking you didn't care about these things." His hands slowly made their way to your hips giving a slight squeez.

"Rafe..." You spoke barley above a whisper. He smirked against your neck placing a small kiss right below your ear. "Is that what you want? To be fucked like the whore you are?"

Your legs squeez together trying to release some of the tension that was building up. You let out a shaky breath as one of his hands trail down to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

"Is this what you want?" He whispered. You nodded your head squeezing your eyes shut as he played with the waist band. "Words."

"Yes, I want this." He slid his hands down your shorts. Two of his fingers rubbed against your folds. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. He rubbed circles around your clit as your hips moved forward chasing his touch.

You let out a small moan and immediately Rafe slaps his hand onto your mouth. "What you want the whole house to hear? As much as I'd love to hear your pretty little moans you need to keep quiet."

You nodded your head frantically. "Good girl." Rafe then removes his hand from you making you whine at his loss of touch. He stepped back from you grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed. He pushed you down on the bed and you let out a gasp.

He crawled on top of you and basically ripped off your clothes and his throwing them on the floor. Rafe started to kiss your neck earning a small gasp to leave your lips.

"Rafe please..." you whine out. "What do you want?" He smirked against your neck. The words couldn't seem to leave your lips as he left a bite on your sweet spot right below your ear.

"Don't go quiet on me now." He rose up to look at you. "Tell me what you want." You started to bite your lip at the sight of him. The sly smirk planted across his face. His shoulder muscles showing more featured as he held himself up.

"Fuck me Rafe...." As soon as the words slipped from your lips it felt like sweet honey on his tongue. He spread your legs open, and you wrapped them around his waist trying to pull him in.

"So needy?" He chuckled making you want him even more. "Rafe..." You breathed out. "Words sweetheart." He smirked once again. "Rafe please fuck me." Your wish was his command.

He lined himself up to you and without warning slammed into you making you let out a loud cry. He quickly slapped his hand over your mouth. "Shut the fuck up." He groaned out.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he thrusted into your cunt hard and fast. "You feel so fucking good. Holy shit." His words were breathless as if he blurted them out of pure pleasure.

His hand still planted on your mouth as the other held your waist tightly. You threw your head back at all the new pleasure rising in you. Rafe looked down at you smirking at the absolute complete mess you were in this moment.

"You like how I fuck you. I bet that pussy boy could never be like this with you." You moaned against his hand as the words leaped off his tongue.

As Rafe pounded into you harder and faster the headboard started to move. He let go of your waist grabbing the board holding himself up as he stayed covering your mouth. You watched his muscles tensed and sweat glistened on his body.

All the pleasure plus the view of him really added onto you forgetting about your shitty hookup. "Fuck..." He groaned out throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

In an instant Rafe grabbed you off the bed still fucking you and took you into the big bathroom inside his bedroom. He turned you around facing the mirror. "I want you to see that pretty little face when you cum for me. A face you'll never see without me fucking you like this."

He held your mouth again making you look at the beautiful mess you were in the mirror. Him pounding in and out of you. Your breast bouncing. Him making direct eye contact with you through the mirror itself.

Muffed moans and him slapping his thighs against your ass echoed through the tile walls. As you could feel your peak approaching you closed your eyes. "No." In one swift move he wrapped his hands around the back of your hair forcing your eyes open to see yourself.

He smirked as he watched you bite your lip holding back you loud beautiful moans. With a few sloppier thrust Rafe was chasing his own high. Throwing his head back as he pounded into you. "Fuck me." He groaned out.

Your high had reached his peak biting your lip so hard blood started to form. Rafe grabbed you pulling you against your chest holding your neck. "Come on baby." He whispered in your ear making you crash.

Your legs started to shake and the image of you two in the mirror was all too much to handle. Rafe started to come down from his own high. His thrust and movements slowing down as his hot liquid shot inside you.

Rafe turned your head towards his planting a sloppy wet kiss on your lips and he pulled out of you. Rafe pulled away, and you both panted for air more than ever. "That's how you should be fucked." A smirk planted across his lips.

[ccupcakqs]

— don’t start it, but i’ll finish it ౨ৎ✧˚

warnings: one punch thrown, mentions of someone insulting oscar, light arguing pairing: oscar piastri x impulsive female reader a/n: “she’s a menace but she’s my menace” energy, request!

you don’t even hear all of it at first. it’s late, you’re in the hospitality tent grabbing a bottle of water after the race, your head still buzzing with nerves and adrenaline. oscar’s doing press somewhere a few paddocks over, and you were planning to find him as soon as the media cleared out.

but then you hear his name.

and the way they say it makes your stomach twist.

“piastri’s such a damn robot, man. no balls. never makes a move unless someone tells him to.”

the second guy laughs. “he's the world’s most well-behaved number two. they should just paint ‘doormat’ on the back of his suit.”

a third voice—more smug than the rest—leans in. “he’s got the personality of an instruction manual. perfect for mclaren, right? all smiles, zero fight.”

you stop walking.

your water bottle crunches slightly in your hand.

then comes the worst one.

“you think his girlfriend’s with him for the fame? can’t be for the personality.”

there’s laughter. loud, careless, ugly.

you don’t even remember moving.

just your voice—sharp, clear, cutting through their little circle like a blade.

“what the fuck did you just say?”

they all turn.

you don’t flinch.

you step right into their space, eyes locked on the last one who spoke.

“say it again,” you snap. “say it to my face.”

he hesitates, hands raised like he’s trying to play it off.

“hey, relax. it was a joke.”

“not funny,” you say. “try again.”

“look, we were just talking. he’s not even here.”

“doesn’t matter,” you say, teeth gritted. “you don’t get to talk about him like that. not when you wouldn’t last five minutes doing what he does. you sit behind a screen and run your mouth like it’s brave. it’s not. it’s pathetic.”

the guy scoffs. “what, you’re gonna hit me now?”

you don’t answer.

you just let your fist connect with his face.

clean. sharp. direct.

the sound is sickeningly satisfying. his nose cracks and he stumbles back, swearing as blood spills down over his lip. one of his friends catches him. the others back off fast, eyes wide.

you toss the half-empty water bottle on the ground.

“think next time before you talk shit about people better than you.”

and then security shows up.

fifteen minutes later, oscar finds you sitting on the edge of a low wall near the paddock entrance, a small bag of ice in your lap even though your hand’s fine. you’re quiet now. a little flushed. slightly sheepish.

he stops in front of you, arms crossed.

you look up at him and wince. “hi.”

he stares at you.

you smile.

“they said horrible things,” you explain. “i couldn’t just let it go.”

he blinks. “so you punched a guy.”

“i was defending your honor.”

“you broke his nose.”

“he called you a doormat and insulted me.”

he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, trying very hard not to smile. “you can’t just hit people.”

“you can, actually,” you say. “there are consequences, but the action is entirely possible.”

he laughs under his breath and crouches down in front of you. “you’re insane.”

“i know.”

“and what if he hit you back?”

“then i’d have hit him again.”

he grabs your wrist gently, inspecting your knuckles like he’s still half in disbelief. they’re a little red, but not swollen.

“you’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself.”

you grin. “i train.”

“you box like once a week.”

“still counts.”

he shakes his head, but there’s a strange expression creeping onto his face—equal parts exasperated and… something else.

“you shouldn’t be doing that,” he says, soft now. “not for me.”

you lean in. “why not? i love you. you matter to me. i don’t care if they were just being loud and stupid. they don’t get to treat you like you’re nothing.”

he swallows.

his fingers flex slightly on your wrist.

“oscar?” you ask, brows lifting. “you good?”

he clears his throat, very pointedly not looking at your mouth. “yeah. just—yeah.”

you tilt your head. “are you—are you turned on right now?”

his ears go pink immediately. “no.”

“oscar.”

“okay. maybe a little.”

you burst out laughing.

he groans and buries his face in your shoulder. “don’t make it weird.”

“me? you’re the one with a weird protector kink.”

“i do not have a kink—”

“babe.”

“fine. i have a slight appreciation for how hot you looked when you went full unhinged.”

you hum. “you should’ve seen their faces. i didn’t even swear at first. i just stood there like i was about to ruin everything.”

“you did ruin everything.”

“i did it for you.”

he kisses you then—hard and a little breathless—like he’s trying to make up for how flustered he is by just giving in.

when he pulls back, he tucks your hair behind your ear and mutters, “next time, just threaten them. no punches unless absolutely necessary.”

you grin. “so violence is on the table?”

he sighs.

“you’re lucky i’m in love with you.”

© ccupcakqs. all work written by me. DO NOT PLAGIARISE!

[rafesangelita]

♡ when a heated argument between rafe and bitchy!kook!reader leads to the cops knocking at their door when they’re already.. ‘making up’

warnings: super toxic themes, nothing about this is romantic, cheating accusations, arguing, lots of yelling, physical violence, angst, lots of throwing and breaking things, banter (?), making up, the cops show up, unprotected sex, rafe gets slapped and choked during sex too..

a/n: this has been in the vault for a while now lolll. huge thanks to my bb @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea <3

wc: 2.8k

“you’re acting fucking crazy right now!” you walked through the front door, rafe following closely behind as you slipped your heels off. “i’m acting crazy?” you spun around, rafe eyeing the shoe in your hand. “i hear this bitch talking about how you and her fucked while we were on a break, and you expect me to be calm?” you scoffed, “don’t tell me i’m acting crazy when you haven’t even tried to start explaining to me what the fuck she’s talking about!” you threw your shoe just like rafe suspected you would.

missing him by a few inches, rafe lunged at you, grabbing the other heel out of your hand. “what the fuck did i tell you about throwing shit at me!” you rolled your eyes, shoving him away as you walked past him to the kitchen. “start talking rafe.” your boyfriend pinched the bridge of his nose, his nostrils flaring as you took a water bottle out of the fridge. “she’s obviously lying! why would i go have sex with someone when me and you were still fucking? blocked contacts and all?” you narrowed your eyes at his form.

“i swear to you, i don’t even know who that girl is!” he walked around the kitchen island, a groan rumbling from his throat when you moved away. “then why would she say that? why would she be talking to her friends about it in a pathetic little circle if it wasn’t true?” you shot back. “hello?! so that we could argue exactly how we’re arguing right now. are you really gonna give her the satisfaction by doing what she wants you to do?” he slammed his fist down on the marble slab separating you two.

arching a brow, your gaze flickered to his phone in his pocket. “give me it.” rafe scoffed. “give you what?” he sneered, his heart dropping when you pointed to the cellular device tucked away in his pants. “do you seriously wanna act stupid right now? i said give me your fucking phone.” rafe cursed under his breath, not even wanting to imagine what you’d do if you saw him hesitating. sliding the damned thing across the island, you picked it up and unlocked it. “if you take one step i’m shattering this shit.”

the first thing you did was go to his text messages, scrolling through every thread for any sign of whatever her name is. you didn’t find anything after a few minutes of searching, ‘recently deleted’ messages included. his social medias were next, a lot of them clean for the most part. you bit the inside of your cheek when you opened his photos. golfing selfies with topper, loads of offguards of you at your vanity, even more photos of you and him while you were out running errands.. amongst other things..

despite not finding anything, you noticed rafe still had this worried look on his face. biting your lip, you followed your gut feeling and opened his notes app. sure enough, there at the top was a phone number with the initial ‘s’ next to it. tapping the number, you put it on speaker before muting yourself. “who the fuck is ‘s’?” rafe’s eyes widened in realization. “don’t-” he stepped forward, making you raise a finger. the phone rung twice before a sultry voice picked up. “hey, handsome, i was waiting for you to call me..”

eyes flickering over to his, you smiled in disbelief. “rafe? hello?” you hung up, your heart beating in your ears as white hot anger blinded your vision. “i can explain that!” he knew to keep his distance from you, your fingers clutching his phone even tighter. “i don’t want to hear shit. you’re a liar, rafe. you always have been.” now you were calm, and to rafe that was worse. what made you so angry wasn’t the fact that he slept with someone else, but acting like you were the crazy one and flipping all of tonight’s arguments on you.

rafe still continued talking. “we didn’t have sex! i never even called her or anything! did you not hear her say she was waiting for me to call?!” you turned, your eyes burning into his skull. “it’s the principle! you still had this bitch’s phone number saved! that’s the fucking problem, idiot!” without thinking, you chucked the phone across the room, shattering a picture frame of you and rafe. following the line of damage, rafe’s jaw clenched. he really liked that picture of you two. “we’re breaking each other’s shit now? bet.”

you rolled your eyes as he stomped up the stairs, a bottle of perfume flying from the railing and into the wall where a hole now resided. “i could always buy a new one, asshole!” you taunted him, “with your credit card, too!” the next thing that came hurling from upstairs was a glass jewelry box where you kept all the jewelry rafe specifically bought for you. that one did in fact hurt a little. you took a breath before he really took the cake with the next item, or items. as if moving in slow motion, you watched as rafe threw over various makeup products over the spiral staircase.

eyeshadow palettes, foundation bottles, tubes of lipgloss and concealer also amongst the mess, all came to a booming crash smack in the center of the foyer. there was glass absolutely everywhere. and you were barefoot, great. you stared at the space around you, tears pricking your eyes at the scene. you and rafe stood in silence, thinking about why this continuously keeps happening. you didn’t care if he saw you crying, the sound of your sniffle making his demeanor change. “i’m sorry, baby.”

you shook your head, not wanting to hear anything. “no, you’re not.” your voice shook as you tiptoed to the couch, trying your best not to step on any glass. going inside your shared bedroom, rafe came back out with some shoes for you before making his way downstairs, the glass crunching underneath his feet. “please, i’m begging you to just let me explain all of this.” he plopped down next to you, in which you moved over all the way to the other side. petty.

“me and topper were at the golf course, kickin’ it the way we always do when this bev cart girl came up to us,” you looked over at him, your teary eyes making his stomach churn, “she was telling us that she had just started there and that she lived on the other side of the island and long story short she started flirting with me, okay?” he held his hands up defensively. “i told her that i have a girlfriend and i wasn’t interested by a long shot.” he started, “she got a little irritated and then topper, being the instigating asshole he is, invited her to the party tonight—” you cut him off.

“that still doesn’t explain why her number was in your phone, and why she was talking about you being the ‘best fuck of her life’ while i was sitting right there.” rafe rested his head in his hands for a moment. “can i finish?” you waved him off as you settled back in your corner. “things got awkward so i gave topper my phone before going inside and getting a drink. when i came back out, she had winked at me all weird and topper showed me that he had saved her number in my notes for me to send to him later because his phone was dead. that’s it, i swear.”

you didn’t say anything, a part of you hating yourself for wanting to believe him. “explain to me why she was talking crazy with her friends then.” rafe tapped the side of his head, “because she obviously knew it was you that i’m with!” he shouted, making you glare in his direction. “how would she know me?” you crossed your arms. “y/n.. besides the fact that we were all over each other, who the fuck doesn’t know you?” rafe asked incredulously. fair point. “is that all?” you looked up at him as he scooted closer.

“no.” his tone switched to that gentle lilt, your breathing slowing when he took your hand in his. with the last bit of resolve you had left, you pulled away from him. “well make it good, because i’m on the verge of leaving your ass.” rafe scoffed. “you said that last time..” he shot back, “and the time before that..” you shot him a glare. “and who broke in when i changed the locks?” you reminded him of the time you woke up to a busted door in the middle of the night. “you got me.” he shrugged, in which you looked away.

“whatever.” you felt exhausted, all of tonight’s activities were starting to catch up to you. who knew overthinking, arguing on the way home, breaking stuff, and yelling and crying could make someone so tired? “no— i mean like, you got me.” rafe closed the space between you two, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you still avoided his gaze. “hey,” he thumbed your chin, “there has never been, and never will be, another girl. i’ll die on that hill.” your eyelids fluttered when you felt his fingers creep up on your thigh.

“i know you could see right through me, does it look like i’m lying?” the expression on his face was clear as day. he was telling the truth. you let out a shaky breath, your arms wrapping around his neck as he pulled you on top of his lap. “oh, baby, we have to do better.” he squeezed you tight, inhaling your scent as his palms ran up and down your back. you sniffled into his neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there. “i’m sorry for breaking your phone.” rafe shushed you, eyeing the broken device in the corner.

“don’t be. i’m the one who broke like half of your shit.” you didn’t even care, mostly because you knew rafe was going to replace everything anyways. you pulled back, cupping his face in your hands. “i love you.” you whispered, those three words making rafe’s heart clench. giving you a small smile, rafe replied with a ‘i love you too,’ followed by ‘give me some sugar..’ of course, you leaned in, rafe’s lips meeting yours halfway as he groaned at the taste of your lipgloss on his tongue. this was just how things went, you two have been here plenty of times before.

his hands snaked down to the globes of your ass, hiking your dress up as he kneaded your flesh between his fingers. your kisses became more feverish, a muffled moan sounding from you when rafe slipped his tongue inside your mouth. he dragged your hips against his clothed erection, both of you hissing at the much needed friction. “how bad do you want it?” rafe panted, nipping the skin of your neck. you almost laughed at his words. “how bad do i want it?” you repeated, “how bad do you want to take it from me?” rafe groaned when you wrapped a hand around his throat, pushing his head back against the couch.

he should’ve known taking the reigns wasn’t going to be that easy. with one of your hands restricing his intake of air, he blinked up at the ceiling, his eyes fluttering shut as you pressed kisses to his chest. you were so sexy like this, he let you grind against him until he couldn’t stand to not be inside of you for another second. you let rafe remove your grip on his neck, a small gasp leaving your lips as he took both of your hands and tucked them behind your back. your head was resting on his shoulder as he pulled himself out of his pants, his fingers moving your underwears to the side before forcing you to sink down onto his length.

you were so slick and ready for him, rafe couldn’t refrain from cursing in your ear. “you’ve been soaked this whole time, huh? fighting turns you on, is that it?” you met his eyes. “mhmm,” you leaned down, “you make me so wet when you’re mad..” rafe grunted, landing a harsh smack to your ass. he knew that already, but hearing you say that while he’s both angry and sexually frustrated just ticked him off even more.

soon, you were the one bouncing on top of him, making him watch in awe as his cock disappeared inside of your greedy cunt. wanting to watch you unravel, he started stroking your clit, making you double over. “you wanna cum? you have to earn that shit.” without a word, you reached up, slapping him across the cheek. the action made him twitch inside of you. “you only cum if i get to.” you kissed him roughly, biting his bottom lip as you pulled away. you were so serious too.

rubbing your clit in harder circles, you nearly screamed when the tip of his cock began pressing that sweet spot inside of you. “fuck—” your thighs began trembling, your orgasm just right there in arms reach when there was a loud bang at the front door. both of you jumped, the fire in your loins melting away into nothing as both of you froze. “what the fuck?” rafe held onto you tighter before the banging continued. “who the fuck is that?” you got up, pulling off of him with a hiss. “outer banks sheriff deputies, open up!” you and rafe looked at each other with wide eyes.

rafe cursed under his breath, adjusting your dress and his pants before stepping in front of you to answer the door. “can i help you?” he peeked out, two other cops standing at his side. “are you the owner of this home?” rafe squeezed your hand, responding to the officer with a ‘yes, sir.’ opening the door a little more, the cop continued to explain why him and his team were there. “we received a few calls reporting a domestic dispute at this address, ‘said that they heard yelling and a lot of ruckus.” you shut your eyes for a moment. you should’ve assumed the whole island was able to hear you and rafe going at each other’s throats.

“uh, no sir, nothing domestic going on around here.” rafe joked. no one laughed. “no? so the four separate calls we received were all lying?” four separate calls? damn, people couldn’t mind their business around here. “well, uh.. yes, me and my girlfriend had a little disagreement but we’re okay now—” immediately, the sheriff demanded to see some kind of identification. taking his id out of the wallet in his pocket, rafe cooperated as the older man had him confirm his information. “so you said you and the woman are ‘good’ now?” officer shoupe, as rafe had learned, asked with concern.

“yes, sir, she’s right here.” before you could protest, rafe dragged you to the front, an awkward smile adorning your lips as you were pretty sure they could see the smudged lipgloss all over your mouth. “hello, sweetheart. can you confirm that you are safe and in not any immediate danger with this man?” you looked back at rafe, having never been questioned by the police before. “yes, i’m safe,” you answered, “we just had a little fight, but we’re making up now..” one of the female officers cleared her throat awkwardly.

“i see..” shoupe nodded, gaze flickering back at rafe. “well i guess we’ll leave you two alone then. next time, can you please keep your volume low? you two had some people pretty spooked there.” you mumbled a ‘yes, sir.’ before rafe pulled you back inside and shut the door. it was silent for a moment, both of you seemingly looking around at the aftermath of everything. “i can’t believe people called the cops..” you walked over to the kitchen and grabbed the broom. rafe watched with a confused expression as you started sweeping up glass.

“so, uh— we aren’t going to pick up where we left off?” you looked up at him with a look that said ‘seriously?’. “no. how about we ‘pick up where we left off’ after you help me clean all of this up, and replace everything you destroyed?” rafe groaned. he could always count on you to leave him with blue balls. deciding to help you, it wasn’t long before everything was cleaned up, no sign of any earlier events except for the new hole in the wall. after you two showered and settled in bed, rafe held you flush against his chest while he kissed up your back,

“are you sure you don’t want to finish?” rafe sounded pained, like he needed to be inside of you immediately. turning around in his embrace, you pecked his lips before swinging a leg over his hips. “make it fast.” you pretended like you didn’t want the same thing, a smile gracing your lips when you heard rafe mutter a ‘thank god.’ before slipping off of your nightgown.

[trashytracktales]

teammate!lando x reader where they had a bet and she loses…so he makes her crawl to her, hump the pillow, rub her bare clit against his clothed crotch ALL WHILE HE RECORDS HER (with consent ofc)

Lights, Camera, Action! | LN⁴

🔹️ summary ──── It was supposed to be a joke, then it became everything.

🔹️ pairing ──── Lando Norris x fem teammate!reader

🔹️ rating ──── explicit

🔹️ warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, descriptive language, smut, nerdy!Lando, soft!dom Lando, recording (consensual), cushion humping, manhandling, orgasm from external stimulation, swearing, unprotected sex, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, playful teasing, camera kink??

🔹️ word count ──── 6.3k

🔹️ date ──── May 6, 2025

🔹️ a/n ──── How tf do I set my intention to go for PURE SMUT NO PLOT, yet still manage to write over 6k 😀 I don’t even know what’s this, nothing makes sense and we are living on a floating rock.

Hear me out, I usually only link the song, but then I remembered about this music video and I almost had an aneurysm because of how well it fits. I recommend watching it after reading though. Anyway, ENJOY!!

THE LAST RACE before the break fucked them both. Pretty hard. What was supposed to end with another 1-2 finish for the team turned into a disaster of strategy, pace, and pure bad luck.

Since getting back to Monaco, the fallout hasn’t left them alone. It’s pretty hard when everyone is talking about it; it can get lonely, too. Luckily for them, they’ve been texting back and forth for days, laced with sarcasm, blame, and just enough flirtation to keep the tension at its peak. However, neither of them said what they really wanted to say. But it was always there, between the lines as usual, and in the way her name popped up on his screen, making his stomach flip.

Every single time.

The bar is loud enough to blur that tension and even Lando, with his no-alcohol rule, is loose and laughing. They dance and talk about anything but racing, and for a while it feels like neither of them are carrying the weight of disappointment.

Friends come and go through their circle, a few fans spot them and ask for pictures — which they take, grinning too wide and standing too close for their own good. Somewhere between the fourth round of mocktails, a familiar song starts pulsing through the speakers, and that’s when she brings up the bet, half-laughing, stepping in front of him like she did back in the garage when she dared him.

“If I finish behind you, I owe you a private dance,” she said, confidence dripping from every word. She’d qualified ahead of Lando, and was so confident she can finish ahead of him, too. But since every race is unpredictable and full of unknowns, she ended up taking the checkered flag after him.

It was a joke, anyway. But she can’t say with all her heart that she hasn’t thought about it at least a few couple of times. Besides, it’s Lando who’s been constantly reminding her throughout the past few days and, even if it was in jest, the curiosity made her spend hours staring at the ceiling of her room, imagining different scenarios.

Now, it’s late when the door to his apartment clicks shut behind them with a clean, satisfying noise. Lando tosses his keys into the ceramic bowl on the console with more force than necessary, and while the keys clatter, one nearly skids off the edge, forcing him to reach for it instinctively. She doesn’t say anything, although she can’t help but finding amusing that the inanimate objects always decide to act up only when her teammate’s patience seems so fragile.

The sudden movement makes Lando whine in exasperation as she watches him kick off his shoes and drag a hand through his curls.

The place is quiet, as if reflecting their inner agitation, silently burning within. He’s not bothering turning on more than a lamp, but it’s enough to bathe the whole living room in a pale silver glow, making everything seem even more intimate than it should be.

As they step further into the apartment, the same silence hits them both, because it’s not just the sudden absence of noise, but the weight of it. They’ve never been this quiet around each other before. Usually, they’re the chaos in the garage, either laughing too loud or teasing mid-debriefs, always bringing the kind of energy that makes their engineers roll their eyes but secretly love it. Now though, it’s the first time neither of them knows what to say. Or how to act.

“Cute place,” she says, partly to break the silence, but mostly because it really is. Spacious, stylish, not super tidy, but very Lando in that sense.

“You know you don’t have to make small talk, right?” he laughs. “It was a stupid bet to begin with, since I was always going to finish ahead of you anyway.”

Her jaw drops slightly at the cockiness in his tone. This is the Lando she knows and, in other circumstances, she would find his confidence hot, but right now it only makes her want to knock that look off his face. Or sit on it just to shut him up. Either works.

“Always eager to finish first? Got it,” the playful jab lands right where she intended without too much effort; it’s a split-second flicker in his expression, the twitch of his jaw, and the way his arms tense.

That’s the spot, she thinks. That’s where it bruises his ego, not because it’s crude, but because it’s enough to sting. Which only makes her want to push harder.

Lando’s grin flattens a bit. “Well, someone’s gotta lead the way,” he replies casually, even though he caught her double meaning phrase.

“Right. Leading the way because you can’t pace yourself,” she fires back.

He chuckles. “Sounds like an excuse from someone who couldn’t keep up.”

They’re toe-to-toe now, all bite and smirk and so much tension. She’s half a second from throwing a cushion at him just to knock that pretty smile off when she glances past his shoulder and, without another word, she steps forward, fingers brushing lightly against Lando’s arm as she urges him to move out of her way, wandering farther into his apartment like she owns the place.

“Interesting,” she mumbles. “I saw you with the camera before,” the girl continues as Lando turns to follow her silhouette. “How about you film me while I dance? Give you some new material for land0.mov?”

Lando’s expression twitches barely, but she’s still able to notice it. That small flash of disbelief, quickly masked by a half-laugh, like he’s not sure if she’s joking or just testing him.

“No way, mate,” says Lando, but it’s already too late.

She nods slowly, letting the weight of her intention settle in the air they share. His boyish smirk fades into curiosity in an instant. It’s like watching him put a helmet on: composed, dialed in, serious in a way most people rarely get to see.

To give him more space to process, she veers toward the low shelf by his TV, crouching slightly. “Let’s see. Which one’s your favorite?” she asks nonchalantly, running her fingers along the row of cameras lined up like little trophies; old film bodies, modern DSLRs, and a few point-and-shoots with scratched lenses.

Lando stares at her like she suddenly grew two more heads in the meantime. “You play too much, you know that?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Which one?” she repeats.

He blinks, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first. After he rubs the bridge of his nose, Lando exhales slowly. “The, uh… the Leica. Second from the left. Black one,” he instructs. “I rarely use it, which makes it special, I guess.”

She lifts it delicately, turning it over in her hands. It’s heavier than she expected, sleek and cool against her skin. “Nice,” she grins. “Bet it makes everything look expensive.”

Lando hums in agreement, “Only shoots what’s directly in front of it. Look,” he says, getting so close to her that he’s now towering over her frame, while pointing at the camera. “Fixed lens, see? No lazy zooming, but the resolution is insane. The tricky part is that you have to move it yourself to get the shot you want,” he continues.

She looks up at him, noticing a slight shy grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. And, just when she thought Lando couldn’t get any nerdier, she hears his voice again.

“It’s a twenty-eight millimeter lens. That’s not crazy wide,” he informs her. “If you stay in the middle, the background’s gonna fall off all soft and blurry. Makes it feel…” he trails off, clearing his throat. “Personal. It’s not even about perfect framing or whatever,” he rushes to add. “It just catches whatever’s there, no hiding.”

“Did you use it before?” she asks, curiosity pulling the words out of her mouth without having the time to think them through.

“I did,” he replies with a grin, giving her enough time to come up with her own scenarios before adding, “On my cars.”

She smiles, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room. “So. If I move, you have to follow, hm?”

Lando nods.

She sets the camera down gently, then leans against the wall beside the shelf with her arms crossed. She’s aware that what she’s suggesting it’s pure insanity, especially after what’s been happening between them lately.

“Okay,” she finally says, holding her hand toward him, palm open. “Can I see your phone for a sec?”

Lando frowns, trying to hide a curious smile. “Why?” he asks, sliding the phone from his pocket and unlocks it, handing it over with suspicion in his voice.

She only flashes him a smile back, thumbing through his apps until she finds the little Spotify icon. A few seconds later, the speakers come alive with a sultry bassline that wraps the room in a charged ambiance.

The teasing in her voice is easy to catch next time she asks, “You seriously have a sex playlist called sex playlist? Men are so predictable.”

He chuckles, “Yeah? What’s yours called?”

“I’ll send you the link,” she winks at him jokingly, but that still has an unexpected effect on Lando. Maybe because he’s starting to understand that his teammate is hardly ever joking, actually.

For a second that feels like a week, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches her, every muscle in his body taut like he’s holding himself back from something that’s about to come out anyway. It has to. Because everything has a limit, and theirs was crossed from the moment she entered his apartment.

With a quiet exhale, she presses herself lightly against the wall, then pushes off and crosses the living room in steady, cat-like steps, taking his hand in hers, fingers threading through his. Her touch is warm and somehow reassuring, her palm so small and silky against his. She guides Lando toward the couch with intent as if this isn’t his own home, nudging him gently until he sits.

She breaks away then, walks back across the room, and returns with the Leica in hand. “Turn it on,” she says simply, with enough clarity behind her words.

Lando stares at her, dumbfounded for a beat, before the corner of his mouth twitches upward in disbelief. “You’re insane.”

“I trust you to capture the best in me,” she admits.

He lets out a heavy breath, something between a laugh and a groan, and flips the switch at her insistence. The familiar click of the camera waking up is giving Lando chills, but when he glances up again, his hands still adjusting the ISO, she’s already pulling the shirt over her head, revealing a black bra and her toned shoulders dusted in the dim light.

She tilts her head. “Just make sure I look good, Lando.”

With that, she starts moving as slow as possible, every inch of revealed skin feeling like it’s offered, not given.

Lando’s hands are steady on the camera, but for some reason, breathing doesn’t feel automatic anymore, and he’s currently aware of every shaky breath he takes. His fingers work on instinct, dialing the aperture wider, letting in the glow of the cool lighting. His pulse is racing, heavy in his throat, because he can see everything through the lens, but is still not ready to look at her in the flesh.

For her, it’s easy to notice how focused he is, so she glances straight into the camera on purpose, with a spark of mischief in her gaze, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. To him. As a result, Lando’s knee starts bouncing, restless, his breathing too shallow to be subtle. He can’t remember the last time he felt so tightly wound, but it doesn’t even matter because what happens now will stay with him for a long time, and this is all he needs to remember from now on.

And then, it gets worse.

He stares at her while she’s arching slightly as she undoes her bra clasp, letting it slide off her shoulders and onto the floor without breaking eye contact with the camera. At that, Lando looks away out of instinct — out of that last shred of decency clawing at him. But the camera stays trained on her, and when he lifts his gaze again, it’s like a dam breaks inside him. Violently. The hunger that flashes across his face is instant, and impossible to hide. He doesn’t even try, because what fool could ever take his eyes off her?

Lando adjusts himself without thinking, moving in sync with her teasing gestures as she peels her panties down her legs from under her skirt. He tells himself to stay focused and capture the sensuality of her body with the last fragment of professionalism that he possesses. But that’s a losing game when his own body is burning with need, and every subtle curve and line of her turns into a map that he’s desperate to explore as soon as possible.

His focus lingers on the swell of her breasts, her nipples tightening in the open air. It forces him to swallow hard, a deep ache growing both inside him and his pants, knowing how badly he wants to lean forward and suck them into his mouth, to feel the heat of her skin against his tongue.

The camera dips lower as she dances to the hypnotic rhythm of his music, and Lando keeps working with her, baring the elegant slope of her waist and the strong lines of her thighs. The way she stands there, so natural and confident, feels like a direct hit to his chest that he welcomes without hesitation or any intention of dodging. She’s pure femininity, and that throws him into a black hole made only of her, where the gravity is so strong that there’s no escape.

He’s so focused on her that he almost stops breathing in order to make sure he gets the perfect shot, every shot. That makes Lando’s hand tighten around the camera, his knuckles whitening from the pressure. But his body has a mind on its own, apparently, and his thighs flex like he’s one wrong move away from standing. From closing the distance between them. Against his will, though, he sits there, shivering with the effort to stay still.

“Come on, Norris,” she says, and her voice wakes him up from the trance her shapes put him in. “I’ve seen you take tighter corners at Spa with less hesitation.”

Even though he tries to, he can’t stop the throaty laugh that comes out of him. Only for a moment, Lando lowers the camera again, and lets himself, finally, finally, see her. And this time, he doesn’t look away. He watches her shamelessly, while reaching behind him to take a cushion that he ends up tossing onto the floor near his feet, nodding toward it.

“Go on, then. Show me how desperate you are.”

There is something about the way he says it that sends a thrill straight through her. She heard that Lando is direct when it comes to his wants and needs, but to feel it on her skin hits different. Her pulse suddenly stutters with excitement as she lowers herself in front of him, straddling the cushion, her body already anticipating the liberating feeling.

The moment her hips roll forward and her mouth falls open in surprise at the faint pleasure, Lando is right there, capturing every gasp, every twitch, and every sweet reaction like it’s the only thing that matters. His mind runs wild with all the places he aches to touch — his hand curled around her throat, palms squeezing her breasts, fingers digging into her hips to hold her still while he teases her until she begs.

The temptation claws at him, full throttle. But he forces himself to handle the camera like a pro, because more than anything, he wants her to see what he sees: how devastatingly beautiful she is like this, undone and bold. Through his own lens, she’s a vision, and giving her that full picture keeps him going.

From her perspective, noticing Lando’s determination sends a fresh wave of heat throughout her body, making her rock her hips a little harder, and that puts a tension in his shoulders. A type of need he didn’t feel before.

To stop herself from making more embarrassing sounds, she meets his gaze over the camera, mouth slightly open. “Is this good?” she asks, voice breathy and half-mocking, although there’s something real underneath. A dare. A plea.

Lando looks at her again, revealing a flushed face and his blown wide pupils. “Yeah, don’t stop,” he replies hoarsely.

Her thighs squeeze around the cushion from the moment she hears the first note in voice, the soft fabric teasing against her clit with every slow roll of her hips, pulling breathy sounds from her. Behind the camera, Lando tails closely as she grinds back and forth, his jaw clenching at the small sounds slipping past her lips.

“Shit, that’s hot. Are you always this needy?” he asks out of pure curiosity, but the question is mostly rhetorical; of course she is. Judging by the way her chest heaves and how she leans forward slightly to catch as much friction as possible, the answer is obvious.

She wants to push back against the power shift, but she’s too lost in the rhythmic movement of her body. And it’s not as if Lando’s wrong. Every gentle brush gets increasingly out of control, each desperate grind into the cushion sending small waves of pleasure straight to her nerves, making her fingers curl into the couch for balance. For the control she’s rapidly losing.

Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, mouth constantly parting as the pleasure spirals inside her like a coil wound too tight.

Lando’s fingers flex over the shutter release, but he’s barely present anymore. He’s completely absorbed by what is happening on the other side of his lens, and it’s her moan that pulls him out of it, just as the pressure builds. So he reaches out, his hand entering the frame like an unexpected guest. With ease, his fingers grab the edge of the cushion beneath her, and she pauses, blinking up at him, flushed and dazed, breathing heavily like she just stepped out of the car after a last-lap push. With one strong pull, he slides it out from under her, making her gasp in surprise, her body jolting at the sudden loss.

“Lando,” she exhales irritated.

She gets her hands onto his knees to steady herself, thighs still wobbly, but he’s not looking at her anymore. He’s too busy staring at the soaked fabric instead, darkened with heat and want and everything she didn’t say out loud.

“That good?” he asks, but the arrogance in his voice diminished, giving way to his sincere curiosity.

She shakes her head, looking up at him again. “Not faking it, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

The fact that she is as sincere in her statement, encourages Lando to take things to the next level, just to see how much he can push before it’s too much. He throws the cushion aside with a thud, his eyes lit up with need.

“Come here,” he orders in a gentle tone, patting his lap.

She’s stunned at his words initially, and the way they leave no room for teasing. But then she catches the way his tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, leaving it wet and shining, and something inside her pushes her to get up. She realizes that there’s nothing she wouldn’t do if he asked.

With calculated steps, she climbs him patiently, her thighs spreading over him. They’ve been in each other’s personal space in the past, when they had to do silly challenges for McLaren to entertain the fans. Still, even though there’s a camera between them just like before, the air feels different, charged with desire, unknown, and heavy lust. Because this time, it’s just them.

When her body sinks onto his, the scabrous fabric of his jeans meets the soaked warmth between her legs, the weight making Lando groan silently, his little sound hitting her low in her stomach. His reaction encourages her to continue, shifting on top of him in order to find the best position, enough to grind against his bulge. It’s thick and hard beneath her, and the simple contact is already maddening. Yet not nearly enough, and the realization that he’s just as affected by this makes the coil in her stomach tighten further.

“Keep going,” he speaks again as he lifts her skirt up to her waist, going back to the camera and angling it to capture the way she moves against him, right where her skin meets the fabric of his pants.

Her palm comes around his bicep for suport, letting the instincts guide her further. The pressure she chased a moment ago is still there, but it’s different this time around. More intense.

Lando grunts, his free hand gripping her hip to show her the pattern to follow. She whimpers while that sweet ache comes back, her body trembling with need. In no time, she can move on her own, and because she’s such a fast learner, Lando points the camera closer, eager to capture the wetness soaking through.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he says. “You’re making such a mess,” he exhales, bringing his hand between her legs to feel it before he could even process his own action. His thumb finds her clit, rubbing it gently, keeping his eyes on her face the whole time, craving to catch every reaction.

She moans, one hand squeezing his arm harder as her body rocks forward, chasing the release that she hopes it’s not that far into the future, especially if his hips continue to twitch beneath her the way they do, so impatient and reliant on her.

Unfortunately, the time almost stops the moment their faces get close enough to kiss. She can feel the heat of his breath and the pull between them, and she’s sure he can feel it too. Her eyes flick to his mouth, and Lando’s eyes stay on her, but no one dares to close the small gap. Because somehow, that would be more intimate than all of this. Kissing would mean acknowledging what’s been burning between them for a while now. It would mean admitting this is real, and admitting will complicate everything in both their personal and professional lives.

And neither of them are ready to take that chance yet.

With that in mind, she doesn’t lean in. She just closes her eyes and grinds harder, her hips rolling against his hand and the hard line of his cock beneath her. The sensation amplifies fast, and Lando never stops working her with his thumb. Soon enough, her breath comes out in spasms and her thighs start to shake. Her pace intensifies, chasing the high that’s been teasing at the edges of her patience, feeling the mess she’s made slick against Lando’s pants with every desperate press on it. Still, his hand stays steady, rubbing perfectly against her clit, matching the rhythm of her hips like he knows exactly all the ways she wants — and craves — to be touched.

With Lando’s help, it doesn’t take long until her body finally seizes, hips jerking forward uncontrollably as pleasure crashes over her. He moves with her, a silent apology for stopping her earlier written into every precise touch, making sure this time she falls apart completely. Because of him.

Luckily, the camera captures everything: his hand on her, the wet spot she’s left on his pants, the way her skin flushes and seems to crave more with each passing second, and the way her thighs shake when the aftershocks hit. It catches the way she starts trembling, too, body overwhelmed, aching for something deeper, something only he can give her right now.

Only he gives her time to ride it out instead, feeling all the ways her walls flutter, hungry and empty, and the sound that tears from his throat is nothing but a helpless moan. The sensation alone, even without him inside her, is enough to make his head spin. It wrecks him completely, makes him ache with the violent need to know how it would feel to be buried deep inside her, to have her tight, needy pussy squeezing around him while she comes undone all over again. Because of him.

The girl barely registers the camera being placed in her hands until Lando nudges her chin. “Here. See for yourself.”

Except, she doesn’t want it. Not yet. By her own choice, she takes it gently from his hand, presses RECORD again and turns it around, placing it on the padded arm of the couch. Facing them. Remembering Lando’s voice earlier, casual and offhand when he said that the camera only captures what’s in front of it.

Her fingers move impatiently, drifting to the hem of his shirt, bunching it in her hands. “Since you let me finish first,” she rushes to explain.

With that, she pulls the shirt up, and he lifts his arms to help her, muscles tightening under skin slick with the faintest sheen of sweat. Once it’s off, she tosses it to the side, her eyes drinking him in. Lando is warm under her palms, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, and she senses the same tension in him that’s barely holding him together.

She studies his face while her hand drifts lower, trailing down the center of his stomach, pausing at the waistband of his jeans. Carefully, she slips her hand inside, where she finds him hot and so painfully hard that it makes her mouth water. Without any instructions, her fingers curl around his soft skin, and the sight alone makes his stomach flip. She starts to stroke him teasing, but before she can go quicker, Lando grabs her wrist, groaning low in his throat.

“Just a sec,” he pants, voice cracking slightly. His hands are already moving, guiding her hips back over his lap with a need that borders on desperation.

This time, there’s no fabric between them, and her soaked heat presses directly against his length, making them both shuddering at the contact; skin on skin and no more barriers, just the unfiltered reality of what they both want. His hands find home on her hips, big and heavy, his control hanging by a thread.

Agonizingly slow, her clit slides along his hardness, slick and warm, sending sharp jolts of pleasure from one body to another. He can barely contain himself at the way she finds it so easy to rock against him, faster when she feels how thirsty Lando gets in a matter of seconds. He’s leaking already, the head of his cock glistening, smearing against her folds as she moves.

Completely flushed and utterly drunk with pleasure, he shifts beneath her, his arms wrapping tight around her waist, pulling her closer, even though there’s no physical space left between them. But it’s useless. No matter how close they are, there is only one way that would truly satisfy his urge.

“Please,” he whispers next to the shell of her ear, desperate and breathless. “Can I slide in?”

She’s a lost cause by now, and her reply is reduced to a broken hum, while she sits up just enough to guide the thick head of his cock to her entrance. Lando’s patience snaps at her quick response, and he thrusts his hips up in one motion, his hands holding her hips and pulling her down onto him at the same time. The stretch is overwhelming and takes her by surprise, knocking the wind out of her and making her vision blur at the edges as she tries to take all of him.

They moan together, helpless, her hands landing on his chest as she laughs shakily. “You trying to break me in half or?”

“Didn’t think you’d be so tight,” he groans in a strained voice.

Lando tries his best to take it slow, but the way she welcomes him, so warm and perfect, nearly undoes him the moment he’s all in. A shudder runs down his spine as he grips her hips with more force, thinking maybe if he doesn’t hold her right, the world will actually end.

And it may, based on how her hands are sliding up, clawing at his shoulders with her nails digging in to anchor herself. Her breath shudders out in short bursts as she does, her body struggling to adjust, to take everything he has to offer. All of him.

To test the waters, she starts circling her hips, hoping she’ll find the angle that makes her breath hitch, and when she does, it’s like lightning strikes between them. He’s impossibly deep, touching places inside her she didn’t even know could feel this good. Her pussy hugs him so tightly that Lando has to grit his teeth to shut himself up. Then she tilts her hips forward just slightly with every grind, rocking her clit perfectly against his pelvis while he’s buried inside her.

The effect she was looking for is instant, and she hears Lando choking on another moan, finally, “Fuck, yeah. Right there,” his fingers dig into her skin, hunger battling in his wide eyes. “Do that again, it feels so fucking good.”

“Shit, Lando,” she breaths out. “So deep, I can feel you everywhere.”

She pulls him in again and again, until he is practically whining beneath her. Seeing Lando so lost inside her makes her losing the rhythm, her breathing turning ragged, thighs ready to give up as exhaustion and pleasure blur into one. It’s messy and greedy on both sides, and when she finally collapses against his chest, she sobs out a cry, her voice cracking with it.

“Need you,” she exhales. “I can’t hold it anymore.”

Lando doesn’t waste a breath. One sharp, hungry movement and he’s planting his feet against the floor for leverage, thrusting up into her with everything he’s got. She gasps at the same time he groans deep in his chest, the sound vibrating between them as he finally takes her the way they’ve both needed.

Her mouth goes dry.

His jaw tightens.

Their breath grows heavier, shared in the tight, sweaty space. Her body tenses, then squeezes around him with such perfect pressure it leaves him breathless. A high-pitched moan spills from her, unexpected and honest, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, biting at it in order to shut herself up.

Gently, Lando catches her wrist, holding it firm. “If you’re gonna bite something,” he tilts his head, offering his shoulder, “Be a good girl and bite me instead.”

Her breathing is too fast and her mind runs at the speed of an F1 car. She can’t think straight and, for a moment, she just stays there, her forehead brushing the curve of his shoulder as she tries to catch herself from falling in too deep. Then slowly, like she’s giving in to something bigger than her, she places a kiss on his skin. Her lips press gently on it, trailing along the line of his neck to the dip of his collarbone. It’s the closest thing she’ll ever give him. The closest thing to letting herself feel for him.

He’s still warm, salty with sweat, and soft under her lips. And he smells so good, like skin and heat and something clean that clings to her nose and settles in her chest like smoke.

It drugs her.

The way his scent mixes with the feel of his breath against her temple, the way his pulse flutters beneath her lips — she has to stop. It’s too much, too close, too real.

“Think we should bet every race weekend, what do you say?” asks Lando, his pace quickening, hands guiding her up and down his cock like it’s the only thing that keeps him sane. “Would die to have you like this all the time, hm?”

“Mhm,” she grinds down until his name is all she can say. “Fuck. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, baby. I feel you.”

Her voice breaks off into a moan right when she’s about to speak again, to tell him not to go there and call her that. But Lando rolls his hips, pushing deeper, filling her inch by inch until there’s no space left, which shuts her up in an instant. They fuck in a rhythm that shouldn’t work, all sweat-slicked skin and shaky breaths. The air fills up with obscene sounds of them, their bodies colliding with enough force to make her whimper and moan his name all over again, each time he thrusts.

To help himself, he spreads her wider, holding her open for him, watching the way he disappears inside her, utterly wrecked by the sight. “Taking me so fucking well,” he says between thrusts, dragging his mouth over her jaw. “Look.”

She whines while looking down at where they’re joined. Lando moves his gaze on her expression with a grin on his face, so proud when he feels every spasm in her body; it’s a total mess. Her slick is all over him, coating his cock, his thighs, soaking through the waistband of his jeans that are still shoved only halfway down his hips. Each time they meet, there’s a wet sound echoing between them, sticky and warm, ricocheting against the walls in Lando’s living room like a drumbeat pulling them closer to the edge.

“You like how wrecked you’ve got me?”

She nods frantically, squeezing him so tight it makes Lando see stars. At that, he reaches up, brushing the strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ears with his long fingers. His hand stays there a moment, continuing to slide lower, fingertips skimming her jaw, then wrapping gently around her throat, enough to feel her pulse. To hold her in place.

In a matter of seconds, their eyes lock again. Her chest heaves and her eyes shine, but not just from pleasure. It’s because she wants to tell him that this isn’t what she expected. It’s much, much more, and it will leave a deep mark, no matter which path they’ll choose to take tomorrow morning.

His hands move hungrily, down from her neck to her chest, cupping her breasts, thumbs brushing over her nipples. He holds them carefully, wanting to memorize the shape, the weight, and the way they fill his palms, to make sure he won’t forget a single detail about her body.

“Lan,” she warns.

Lando hums, “Mhm. Right there with you, beautiful,” he assures her.

Her breathing is jagged, the rhythm of their hips desperate, chasing the edge that’s been teasing them since the moment she sank down onto him. Every motion drives him deeper, sends wave after wave crashing through her, because she’s right there for quite a while now.

“Hi there,” Lando’s voice brings her back. His hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, gently pulling her to see her face. “Look at me, I want to see you. Let me see you.”

Her body tenses, and just for a split second the frantic rhythm stutters, then finds its pace again as the orgasm rips through her with a blinding force. She keeps her eyes on his the whole time, riding it out with her hands burried in the curls at the back of his head. His hips jerk beneath her as he throbs inside her, overwhelmed by the way she fights to keep him in. It drives him crazy, and he moans loudly, trying to pull out, but her thighs close tighter around him.

“Inside,” she rushes to say, unable to form sentences longer than one word.

Lando’s jaw clenches so hard he feels like his teeth might snap from the force, every muscle in his body pulled tight and shivering. He holds on by a thread for half a second longer, but then her body flutters around him again, and with a loud, guttural gasp, he lets go, spilling inside her in thick pulses that only make her hold him tighter. His hands shake where they clutch at her hips, trying to pull her down even harder, like he can’t bear even a sliver of distance between them right in this moment.

None of them knows how much time passes like that, but neither of them moves again. She’s stays slumped against his chest, her face buried in the crook of his neck, while his arms stay locked around her waist, as if letting go might break whatever just happened between them.

Lando presses his cheek on the top of her head, his heart hammering so hard he’s sure she can feel it. But it’s fine, because he can feel hers, too.

His hands drift up and down her back in aimless strokes and, while she starts to come back to herself, she notices the music still playing softly around them, the same sultry beat from earlier floating through the air.

Her brows pinch together in confusion before realization hits. “How the fuck did you time your playlist so perfectly?”

Lando lets out a breathless laugh, “Talent.”

She snorts, dropping her head back onto his shoulder with a groan. “Goodness gracious, it is so hard tolerate you.”

“Liar,” he says, “You wanna kiss me so bad.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes, but the way her cheeks heat up gives her away immediately. Lando laughs under his breath again, cocky and so annoyingly right. She opens her mouth to fire back, to tell him that no, she definitely doesn’t want to kiss his smug ass, but then her eyes catch the little red light blinking from across the couch.

The camera. Still recording.

She nudges him softly, grinning against the flush in her cheeks, and points at it. “Smile and wave, Norris,” she whispers, and Lando immediately flashes the most ridiculous smirk at the lens, making her laugh for real this time.

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