#we will see my pain when i notice
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
hinamie · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
so just know, I'm healing / even though it don't feel like it
insp
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#yuji itadori#fushiguro megumi#megumi fushiguro#itafushi#fushiita#jjk spoilers#jjk manga spoilers#good evening it is past midnight and i am here furthering the itfs scar kissing agenda#stumbled across the insp pic buried in my likes and i went oh this is relevant in the opposite direction :) I Can Use This :)#op has some of my fav itfs fanart ill b so real n tht piece ws swimming around in my brain fr Days#so i told myself today my reward for submitting my zine checkin wld b drawing yuuji kissing megumi's scars#also pls observe. /this/ is what i mean when i say tht megumi receiving affection looks like he is unsure and in mild pain#Does Not Know How To Respond To Affection Even From His Own Boyfriend.png#i LOVE drawing megu with this expression so sosos much the downcast sidelong gaze + furrowed brow.....#its SO good#also idk what i did with his hair here but the render actually turned out so well ?? best megu hair to date every1 pls clap#not 2 mention th shape of yuuji's bangs???? pats self on th back no offense but i am on fire w these boys' hair lately#that being said i decided i did not want to render anything else ddfdfjjghdjgf i got tired#kept the rest flat n took the opportunity to play around w light chromatic abberation on the scars#idk if any1 noticed but i found th retro film filter n used it a bunch on my recent comic#its so convenient it comes w built in noise n everything!!!!!!#anyway . caption is salt fv <333 if u care <333333#i think it is also a megu song but like . a post-canon megu song#i thought this wld take longer bc i was planning on rendering everything so i cracked an energy drink and am tragically awake#shld i start smth new we shall see smile :)
976 notes · View notes
euclydya · 1 month ago
Text
we have. a lot. of drawing. to do. this month. and. lots. of drawing. ideas.
Flo. wants. to write about. the effects of. Hanahaki disease. in our system. and how it. manifests. in the headspace. and then. do drawings based on that. if that makes sense. and i think. that would be fun. but we. already. have enough art to draw this month. so that. will probably have to wait. until the new year.
5 notes · View notes
faunabel · 8 months ago
Text
ah... geez... i went outside and plucked a dandelion because my backyard is full of them and i was like :3 but somehow something got ouchie stuck in my finger?? i don't see anything (except a tiny bit of blood) but it really hurts. i know there are a lot of nerves in the fingers so it could've just got cut but on what exactly. i picked a flower 😭 so now i have to type without one of my fingers.
11 notes · View notes
lupaeusarc · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗜𝗡 𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗞𝗜 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗢𝗔𝗥𝗗 : 3 / ∞ featuring stiles stilinski ( @stilesstylelinski )
— 𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙨 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 / 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 —
4 notes · View notes
hobisexually · 9 months ago
Text
long winded rant in the tags coming that’s partly about weight but in a very unfiltered sad way so if that triggers you do Not read on
#on holiday I was like oHHHHH this is what living in the moment is! What listening to your body is! what not worrying about how you look is#but doing what makes you happy#and then …… I came home and got sent the pictures#+ my friend being. unintentionally fatphobic as fuck#while hurtful as fuck too#and it’s all just been piling up too since I got home because I’ve been having a lot of conversations and seeing a lot of people that#confront me with who I used to be and who I am now and how I’m really not happy with that#and it feels like it’s not gonna get better#like I’m destined to be in a job I like but isn’t what I want because I’m not capable enough and I’ll never know what romantic requited love#feels like. I’ll never cure my vaginismus I’ll never be able to let someone in or they won’t want me this is just it for me#and SOMEHOW the way I look has become the ultimate culmination of all those things?#my face is suddenly a woman in her thirties face#I keep gaining weight despite not even eating all that much because FUCKING PCOS makes it impossible#my hair in my face grew back. my stomach is hairy and that plus the added beer belly just makes it look like I’m a 50 year old man#I am soooooooo tired of the dysphoria#and the way pcos ruins fucking everything because I can restrict calories all I want and move all I want but will it help ? No !#and of the fact that it impacts the way I feel about myself so much because I’m convinced now I’ll never find anyone#should have tried harder when I was 21 because that was the only time in my life I reasonably fit society’s standards like That was my shot#I’ve been taking supplements everyone says will help but I’m not sure I noticed anything in the past six months and I can’t take berberine#because it fucks with my heart medication. which. That too. I have that too#and I’m in pain! All the time now! ALL THE TIME so I can’t even work out to keep the weight stable because guess what ?#just after a normal day at the office I come home and have to lie down because everhthing hurts so much !#today I got an impromptu massage in an attempt to feel better but it didn’t fix shit and I had to buy clothes for kings day after#and I didn’t try them on just quickly grabbed some orange shit to try on at home and at what I saw in the mirror I genuinely got nauseous#I just don’t know who that is in the mirror but it’s not me and I can’t accept it. I’ve been trying so hard but I can’t#it genuinely makes me so sad and I keep telling myself that a reduction will help in feeling more like myself and it will help with the pain#but what if it doesn’t? what if my pain doesn’t go away after af all and my stomach just juts out and I feel like a gremlin all the time#what then. what the fuck do we do then. also I’m so fucking scared of that surgery anyway that I don’t fucking want to do it anymore#I want so many things and all of them feel out of reach and I know my own brain is my worst enemy and it’s not rooted in anything real but.#Isn’t it? really — isn’t it???????
3 notes · View notes
blujayonthewing · 1 year ago
Text
waoh boy I love to sleep in my bed in my bedroom with my husband and just simply not actually sleep even a little bit because my body is hurts
#cool and good! neat and fun#I started sleeping in the guest room to see if the old bed would be better#but it's been so long that at this point it was just habit and continually forgetting to clear a bunch of my laundry off my side of the bed#I thought!! maybe!! it would be fine!! maybe with a body pillow and with my pillow not overstuffed and with better sleep position...!#AND LIKE. I'd put up with Aches tbqh. but I can't FALL asleep so I'm just simply fucked#and justin snores which okay was always a problem for me but now also I am a couple of months used to not hearing it#so I CANNOT fall asleep because Sounds and then also that keeps me up long enough that MY BODY. IS HURTS. and then I REALLY can't sleep#and it's FRUSTRATING it's WEIRD it's not like the bed feels immediately uncomfortable to lay in#and like I end up with pain in my foot and I start to notice it when I'm not even laying ON that same hip#and other things like that where like. I can't even tell what exactly the problem even IS#the discomfort is all too weird and displaced around my body to draw any obvious conclusions about its source#and I swear I'm sleeping in the same positions as I do in the other bed! and trying to angle my weight off my hips!#I'm a side sleeper in theory but in practice I've become more of a belly sleeper because of the way I end up tilting my hips and shoulders#we have a king sized bed! it's not like I'm trying to squeeze into a smaller space even!!#AUUGHH. IT'S NOT FAIR. I DON'T WANNA BE A SEPARATE BEDROOMS COUPLE IT BUMS ME OUT SO BAD I WANNA CUDDLE MY BOY#I just don't know what else to do#HE sleeps better and more pain free in this bed than any other bed he's been in since we started dated (including at other houses etc)#so it's not as simple as 'get a new bed' either :')#about me
4 notes · View notes
alligaytorswamp · 1 year ago
Text
ermmm something happened to my hand and now it like feels uncomfy and 2 of my fingers don't work properly ahhahahaha (im panicking)
#i mean i had issues with it for agessss#if i did smth too tough (like picked up smth heavy) or drew/wrote for too long it would hurt#like my palm and wrist and even till elbow#and recently it like suddenly started hurting on my ring finger#idk english like that but the part where it connects to the palm BUT closer to the pinky#it would hurt every time i would like move my hand and ring finger was involved#couple days later it stopped hurting?? all seemed well yet my hand now felt a bit off as if i overworked it but i could actually do stuff w#w/o pain#last night i noticed that my pinky and ring finger like.. don;t work right??#idk how to explain but like when i bend them instead of slowly bending like they should they kinda snap into final position?#it;s doesnt hurt just feels very Wrong#and on top of that#i can like straighten them#u know how u can put ur hand into a fist and then straighten each finger separately? i cannot do that w my pinky and ring finger#fun fact my pinky couldnt straighten for year but ring finger was ok. rn my pinky is WORSE? like it's just not moving unless entire hand do#um very fun for me AHAHHA#and idk today the entire muscle/nerve/who knows hurts from my palm to my elbow - which isnt too uncommon for me but i didnt do shit to caus#it. i have been doing nothing pretty much and it still feels OFF.. :'(#anyways i will be getting some shots in case it's um an inflammation of the joint and then we will see if i get better#dont even have a doc near me im in a VILLAGE (throwing up and dying)#someone pray that my hand gets better#adry.txt
4 notes · View notes
eternal-carat · 2 years ago
Text
Well this one fucking hurts.
#not svt#not seventeen#astro#astro rocky#I still remember when I first found those cutesy bright eyed boys all those years ago…#I generally don’t like cute concepts as much as others and I was confused as to what I was seeing/feeling but it was their light#Rocky in particular….idek.#he’s always mesmerized me in ways other idols have never been able to replicate#as a disabled person who wishes/dreams of learning to dance maybe one day…idk.#as I’m laying in bed in pain watching him makes me feel like I can fly. it makes my body and heart feel lighter#it leaves me breathless and in awe.#this one ….really fucking hurts. in a unique way.#anyone who pays attention to Astro at all knows that stuff has been shit for them…so I guess it’s not as much of a surprise#when I think about it#but…..hearing this felt like a punch to the chest. I went numb so fast I barely noticed it.#this….isn’t how I was expecting to spend my birthday but…here we are I guess.#obviously above all else I just want him to be happy and I’ll support him in anything he does in the future#but I suppose it was just a really harsh slap in the face this morning. Astro are something special and I’ll continue to support them#but I’ll always miss Astro’s Rocky. Astro is always 6.#idk how to end this. more than anything I’m just…tired.#shits sad rn and it’s going to take me a hot minute to process and a bit longer to accept but if anyone even reads this#I guess just stan Astro and Rocky. they’re beautiful as people and as performers and they deserve the world.#I’m just sorry shit had to go this way I suppose. fuck fantagio lmao.#once an aroha always an aroha.
6 notes · View notes
bigweldindustries · 9 months ago
Text
going through the hades 2 stuff and im sorry but i just have to ramble a second because look at Hephaestus
Tumblr media
he's not just a wheelchair user but also an amputee. an above knee amputee. wheelchair users are already next to nonexistant in video games but amputees exist in this really...disheartening? spot where they're pretty much just reduced to "person with a cybernetic limb" - it's always just somewhere from "just a cool visual design" to flat out "superpower". I can't think of a video game amputee that is actually disabled by their limb differences - I'm all for futuristic worlds where prosthetics and other disability aids are far advanced from what they are now, but that's not really what's implied by these designs. They're just... Cool designs that in no way reflect on the real-world experience of being an amputee.
Look at Hephaestus, though. Look at that prosthetic. Whilst stylised it very much looks like it functions like common mechanical knees - knee bends when thigh is lifted, knee straightens when thigh is lowered. He's a wheelchair user as well as a prosthetic user - every prosthetic user I know is also a wheelchair user as a prosthetic is not usable in every occasion and also cause exhaustion and pain if used constantly.
Whilst we can't see much of his wheelchair the position he's sat in and the wheels very much evoke active wheelchair to me - this carries on to very specifically the thickness of his arms. Whilst a lot of Hades designs are muscular Hephaestus has very noticeably thick arms - which makes sense, as active wheelchairs require a lot of arm strength.
Just overall this design is making me want to cry - he's not just an actual wheelchair user in a video game, he's a realistic depiction of an amputee, a disability usually brushed over in order to give a character a fun design quirk and nothing else. He's fat and he's hot and he's a realistic depiction of an above knee amputee. Oh my god. Oh my god?
20K notes · View notes
kbwrites · 6 months ago
Text
The Lord's Favorite CH.2
Tumblr media
synopsis: "He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury.."
prev ← → next
⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x fem! reader, slightly suggestive, mentions of blood and gore
⚝wc: 1.5k
⚝a/n: I'm still shocked this got as much attention as it did! Thank you for reading, I hope this next part pleases you.
Tumblr media
“Please, do your best to remain still,” Uraume chides gently. They press the cotton swab soaked in alcohol to your face, the stinging sensation causing you to wince as it penetrates the cuts on your cheek. Uraume offers a sympathetic glance. “I apologize for this…”
“You don’t need to-“
“Please.” They say firmly “I was aware of the tension between the servants, I... never thought they would do something to harm one of their own.” Uraume’s voice wavers slightly. They move to the wounds on your arms.
The door to the chamber swings open, and Sukuna stands in the threshold, leaning one arm nonchalantly against the doorframe. He surveys your battered form sitting on the edge of the bed—a trace of annoyance etched on his face. Uraume rises swiftly to bow before the king, but he dismisses the gesture with a casual wave.
“My lord, I’ve treated her as best as I can.” Uraume reports.
Sukuna’s gaze shifts to your face, his demeanor cold yet betraying a hint of concern.
“Are you in any pain?”
“No.. my lord and I’m sorry-“
“You are not at fault.” He interrupts you, his voice firm as he strides over, his heavy footsteps echoing through the room. Clad in a black robe with a purple sash tied around the waist, his rippling muscles are visible through the cascading fabric. Uraume steps back, offering a brief bow before exiting, leaving you alone with him.
He scans your face with a piercing gaze, lowering himself to your level. His eyes drift to your empty wrist, narrowing with a mix of concern and intensity.
“Where. is it.” He demands. Your eyes widen as you realize the bracelet you were given today was missing.
“I… it must have fallen off when they attacked me” You piece together aloud. 
“So they would harm you as well as steal…” Ryomen’s voice grows taut with anger he clenches his fist, body tensing up. He rises from his kneeling position, figure looming over you.
“Are you able to stand?” He questions lowly. You nod.
“Good. We will be going now.”
You look up at your king, his expression is unreadable, but there’s an unmistakable intensity in his eyes—a silent promise of retribution. 
You lag behind him as he strides purposefully down the dimly lit  hallway. The evening light leaks through the dark red curtains of the hall, casting long shadows that dance along the walls. Each step of his echoes with a menacing authority. He stops abruptly at the entrance to the servants quarters. Sukuna looks over his shoulder at you, his gaze intense and unwavering.
“Do you wish to watch?” He inquires, voice low and steady.
“W…watch?” 
“Yes, do you wish to watch as I kill the ones who hurt you.”
“I—“ your heart races, Was this really happening? “No… my lord I do not.” You speak quietly. He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t respond, opening the door to the room.
The servants look upon him in reverence… or fear. Ryomen Sukuna did not bother himself with his servants, so seeing him generally meant bad news. He scans the room at the trembling help who shrink under his scrutiny, ‘utterly pathetic..’ he thinks. Their eyes drift to you, standing behind him. Ryomen shoots you a sidelong glance, awaiting you to point out your offenders. 
You look up at him, conflicted. Do you really wish for them to die? He scoffs as if reading your mind.
“You would protect them, even after what they did to you?” He sneers.
 He directs his attention back to the line of servants, all bowing their heads in fear. His gaze lands on one woman, and he notices the bracelet on her wrist—identical to the one he had painstakingly crafted for you.
At the sight of the bracelet, his demeanor changes abruptly. His expression darkens with a fierce intensity. With a swift motion, two of his arms encircle you, gently but firmly covering your eyes.
“Do not open them, until the screaming stops.”
Screams of horror reverberate through the room. You hear slashes mingling with the sound of Sukuna chuckling darkly. All the while two of his arms remains protectively around you, shielding you from the brutality he’s inflicting upon the ones who dared to harm you.
The screaming fades, his breathing slows, upper left arm lowers from your eyes.
“It is done.” And as your eyes slowly open, the sight before you is gut-wrenching. Blood and carnage litter the servant’s chambers. You clasp your hand  over your mouth as you fight back a gag. 
Ryomen looks at you, a hint of annoyance for your lack of appreciation. You gaze upon his bloodied form, he was covered in it. He wipes face, turning his back on the lifeless bodies.
“Let’s go; I require a bath and new clothes.”
You sit on the edge of the porcelain tub, adding oils and dried petals. The act of bathing Lord Sukuna had become quite routine. And yet every time he entered the room your heart would skip a beat. He stood at over six feet tall, his four muscular arms and broad, chiseled chest commanding attention. The tattoos that adorned his toned body only added to his already imposing presence.
He strides confidently over to the bath, crimson eyes never leaving yours. The scent of lavender and roses wafting through the tiled room. He lowers himself into the water, groaning as the hot water enveloped his powerful frame.
You grab a sponge, wiping the dried blood from his chest. Ryomen leans his head back against the edge of the tub, sighing in relief under your touch. He’s quiet for a moment, only the sound of the water sloshing around echoes throughout the room. One eye opens slightly to observe you, your gentle hands erasing the evidence of his carnage. Massaging away his stress and tension. He speaks in a low, commanding voice.
“Join me.”
You abruptly cease your movements, looking at him in disbelief.
“You mean—“
“In the tub, yes.” You hesitate, glancing nervously between him and the water. Knowing it was not wise to disobey your king, you begin to shed your clothing, covering yourself modestly as you allow the bathwater to cloak you. You settle on the opposite side of the tub, his eyebrow quirks in mild annoyance.
“I will not harm you.” His voice almost… gentle.
You move closer to him. Albeit too slow for his taste, one arm pulls you towards his chest, settling on the small of your back. The unprecedented position of intimacy with your lord both thrilling and unsettling.
“Are you… unhappy with my actions today?”
"No… my lord." It was partly true. You were still reeling from the events that had transpired. The king to whom you had dutifully bowed had unleashed his fury... for you? The man you willingly served, had been so enraged by your injuries that he had taken the lives of those who wronged you. He was both a monstrous force of vengeance and your savior, intertwined in a tempest of passion and fury..
“Good.” Another hand reaches to stroke your hair, a touch so feather light you wondered if he thought you’d break. “I… do not wish for you to be unhappy.” He speaks softly. His finger traces your jawline. You shiver under his touch, but don’t pull away. If your heart were to beat any faster you feared it might give out altogether.  His hand trails down to your chest, placing his palm flat against the valley between your breasts.
“Your heart is racing…Are you frightened of me?” He questioned, feeling the rhythm quicken beneath his touch.
“F…frightened?” You try to keep your voice from shaking, but it betrays you quivering with uncertainty.
“It is understandable; I could kill you right now.” He grins as his words make your heart beat even faster. “I am merely stating a fact. Do not think of it.” His gaze travels from your face to your chest, lingering at the point where the water begins.
He stands up, water dripping down his body, your gaze travels down his abs to his v-line. He only grins as he sees your curious eyes widen at his lower half. It was quite hard not to look when he was so… big. The screams from his bedroom made sense after you were called to his bath the first time. 
“You are permitted to touch.” He declares, snapping your out of your daze, a shaky hand comes up to feel his abs. He groans softly under your nimble fingers, feeling his muscles tighten in response. He was a work of art, as if the gods themselves sculpted his figure.
You knew that after his bath, Lord Sukuna would typically summon one of his concubines to his chambers. This would inevitably result in several hours of indecorous moans and pained screams, audible through the door connecting your room to his. As his servant, you wanted to adhere to your place, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder... what it would be like to bask in your lord’s presence in such an intimate way.
“My lord, shall I summon someone to… attend to your needs?” 
He only chuckles darkly, one arm reaching down to gentle cup your face. His crimson eyes feasting upon your wet, naked form committing this scene to memory.
“No need,” He murmurs, his voice deep and resonant.
 “I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”
Tumblr media
taglist! (I know a lot a people in the previous post asked for a part two but idk if that meant you wanted to be tagged, lmk!) @haruchi-slit @gg-trini @pastelbunnelby @cauqhtz @shadava
8K notes · View notes
euclydya · 1 year ago
Text
everything is fuck everybody suck [<= can't sleep. The wires.]
3 notes · View notes
monstersholygrail · 3 months ago
Note
very classic but summoning a demon to fuck you and he gets a little obsessed 🙏
Imagine Himbo Demon was one day just casually going about his business, torturing a mortal with the agonizing act of small talk when suddenly a flash of white explodes across his vision. The next thing he knows he’s standing in a magical circle of your own design and he can’t get out.
You ask if he’s an incubus and that’s when he notices the book in your hand, ‘How to Summon Incubi With Your Friends: The Party Guide.’ He also looks you over and notices how painstakingly pretty you are and thinks… he could be an incubus.
That night he has what he claims as the best sex of his eternal life, no doubt about it. The way your body moved as you rode him within an inch of his life made him swear he was being taken back to heaven. The way you tasted sweeter than the finest nectar till it burned permanently into his senses. Every last bit of you was addicting.
When the summoning spell’s time was coming to a close, the demon actually felt an ache at the idea of leaving you and your sweet, sweet holes. He tried to reach for you once more but with a flash of white he was back in hell. His heart and his cock aching for you.
The minute he can he’s scouring hell’s library for the book he saw in your grasp. He reads it like a man possessed, ironically, looking for the spell you must’ve used.
As he’s reading the book, an Incubus just so happens to look over at him. Sensing eyes on him he looks up and their gazes meet. The Incubus reads the cover of the book he has and his eyes widen. He begins slowly inching away from Himbo Demon before turning and quickly rushing off.
Himbo Demon tilts his head, curious as to why the Incubus gave such a reaction. But after a moment of brief confusion, he goes back to reading the book. His eyes brightening as he finds the spell.
That night he clumsily performs the spell. His mind foggy with lust. His cock red, angry, and dripping with precum as he thinks about drowning in your holes, lapping up your essence like it’s the only food he’ll ever need and then fucking you until you’re raw and swollen, only to soothe any pain with his tongue.
Himbo demon growls, reaching down and lazily stroking his cock with one hand and performing the spell with the other. Somehow by a true miracle, it works. He appears back in the same fading circle he appeared in last time. His eyes ignite with feral need and his gaze flickers around the low-lit room before a door opens and you come waltzing in wearing nothing but a towel.
“Miss me, baby?” He snarls in excitement, knowing now he has a way to keep coming back to you.
You yelp, jerking back against the wall in surprise. Not expecting the demon to be here again but you’re not exactly upset about it either. Himbo Demon smiles wickedly, but in truth he’s just so happy to see you! He moves at the speed of lightning and he’s on you in an instant. His tall lithe body caging you in against the wall. You exhale shakily, your body tingling with need and your belly churning with arousal as you glance down at his fat cock bobbing and dribbling with his own arousal.
The scent of you floods Himbo Demon’s senses and he growls, fangs flashing in the moonlight that peaks in from the window. Feeling beyond thrilled that the spell worked. That he can go to you whenever he feels like it now. So long as you keep the summoning circle up, that is. But he’s too focused on your new easy access to even try and realize that.
“Don’t worry, sweet human. I’ve found my way back to you and your glorious body. From now on we shall never be parted and I can properly fuck your weak mortal shell ragged as much as I desire. And there is much… much desire,” Himbo Demon rasps heatedly, looking down at you with a fire in his eyes.
Before you can even think to respond, the demon is shredding your towel into two, revealing your body to him in all its glory. He barely takes the time to appreciate the view and suddenly he’s pressing into, rubbing his length along the height of your belly.
And you know this is the start of a wild adventure. One you’re sure is bound to last more than another night.
4K notes · View notes
happy74827 · 5 months ago
Text
Joyride
Tumblr media
[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Remember kids, always look at the road when driving. It can help you avoid certain blabber mouths 🫶
WC: 2556
Category: Fluff, Annoying!Deadpool, 4th Wall Breaks, Insane Amounts of Profanity {TW: Deadpool (for obvious reasons)}
In honor of watching Deadpool 3 (super good btw), enjoy this random chaotic fic I created with the help of @yoursacredqueenmother. This is super chaotic lmfao
『••✎••』
Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.
A millisecond ago, you were driving down a street. In the middle of traffic. At a red light. Now, you were panicking, looking over the front of your car for the flash of red you had just seen. It took a couple of seconds for you to realize that there was blood on your car and on the ground—a lot of blood.
"Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"
You quickly hopped out of the car, rushing to the spot you thought the person… or thing would be, but… there was nobody. There was blood on the ground but nobody.
Did you hit a deer, and it just… ran off? No, that can't be right. You definitely saw something red, and it most certainly was not a deer.
You looked around, confused. How the hell does something bleed all over the ground and then disappear without a trace?!
You got back in your car, deciding to drive to the closest police station. Maybe they knew something about this.
So, you decided to abandon the shortcut home and drive to the nearest police station, which happened to be just down the road. But as you were minutes into the drive, you felt the sudden urge to look in your rearview mirror.
And there you found your mysterious red-suited victim in the backseat, holding the biggest knife you have ever seen as his white-covered eyes stared at you from behind the mask.
You never hit the brakes faster in your life. The car made an ugly screeching sound, and the sudden force slammed the red-clad man into the back of your seat, making him let out a surprised yelp.
The car finally came to a stop, and the masked man recovered quickly, pushing himself off of your seat and glaring at you.
"Well, aren’t you just a heart break—"
He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.
You grabbed your keys from the ignition and popped off the attached pepper spray, turning around and squirting him in the face. He let out a scream, and you quickly got out of the car, shutting the door and running as fast as you could.
Unfortunately, you didn’t get very far. Despite being hit by a car, and subsequently getting pepper sprayed, the man (or what you assume to be) caught up with you and blocked your path, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side.
"Alright, lady, what the fuck?" He asked, his voice sounding nasally, most likely because of the spray.
You stared at him, confused. He looked like he was waiting for an explanation.
"W-What the fuck?! What the fuck me? What the fuck you!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking a little. "What the fuck are you doing in my car?!"
"Well, I was trying to hitch a ride! But clearly, that didn't work out. Thanks a lot, by the way, for the pain and suffering. You’ve really opened up my horizons here."
It almost sounded like he was pouting.
"What the—! A ride?! Why in the hell would you just hop into someone's car?!"
"Uhh, because you ran me over, genius! I mean, come on, the least you could do is offer a guy a ride home after that. And then, the cherry on top of the fucking sundae: pepper spray!"
The masked man, so to speak, threw his arms up in the air, and you could almost see him rolling his eyes underneath the mask. Of course, that’s when you noticed the obvious broken bones in his hands. And the blood. There was a lot of blood.
"Look," the guy started, walking closer to you. "I know, I'm a big scary guy with a big scary knife and a bad temper and all, and you’re just… well, I’m sure you have an amazing personality, but how about we put all that aside, and you give me a ride, alright? Just drop me off at the corner of 10th and 55th, and you can forget this ever happened."
"Your arm… your wrist. It's broken," you told him.
"Yeah, no shit," the man scoffed. "Got any Taylor Swift CDs in that car?"
"Uh… no, not really. Why?"
"Cause, baby, I’m Shaking It Off!"
There was a pregnant pause, and you weren't quite sure if he was being serious or not. I mean, surely he wasn’t about to just ignore the fact that his arm was the complete opposite of norm—
But when he shook his arm in a violent manner, and a loud crack followed suit, you realized, with a heavy heart, that yes, this guy was serious.
What you didn’t know until a few seconds later, however, was that he snapped his bones back into place like it was nothing. It took the flexing in his fingers to realize it, too.
"Holy shit." You truly were in awe.
He seemed to find amusement in your expression, tilting his head slightly and giving you a once-over. And, yes, you could feel his eyes on you, and for some reason, it sent a shiver down your spine.
"So… Wendy Torrance, about that ride? Can you give me a lift, or are we gonna start that chick flick moment where your mental breakdown leads to slow-motion running to a Sia song?"
You could only stare.
"Alright, well, if you're going through with the latter, then at least play something that doesn’t involve that little dancing girl who likes to wear potato sacks as clothes."
You couldn’t believe this was happening.
"You are literally insane." You breathed out, shaking your head.
Even if you couldn’t see it, something told you that he made the biggest grin underneath his mask.
"Why, thank you, darling."
Fast forward a couple of minutes, and you found yourself driving towards the address the red-suited stranger had given you. You couldn’t really make conversation. He had his hands in his lap, playing with a knife, and was staring at you, his head tilted.
"You can blink, you know. I'm not a zombie," he informed you, making a gesture to his mask and eyes, which you assumed he was blinking underneath.
"Right," you nodded.
“Well, mostly, at least. I mean, I still have a pulse, but it's kind of irregular, and I think it's because I keep getting shot and stabbed in the heart. Oh, and I guess I'm also pretty much immortal, so that's probably the reason. But I think the whole not-dying thing cancels out the heartbeat thing, right? Like, the more times you get impaled or decapitated or set on fire, the more it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect you anymore, am I right?"
You glanced at him. He was staring at you, his hands still and his knife resting on his leg.
"…Do you ever shut up?"
"Woah-hoho, feisty. And here I thought I was going to break the ice with a good ol' fashioned knock knock joke."
"I don’t think that would've been funny."
"That's what the last girl said."
"Oh yeah?"
"Mhm. Except she wasn’t talking about the joke. I made her laugh in a different way."
You glanced at him again, and he was giving you a knowing look.
"I can't decide if you're disgusting or not."
He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. That made him shut his mouth just long enough for you to turn on the radio but not long enough to avoid the inevitable.
"Hey, hey, I got a good one: Knock knock."
You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes. "Who's there?"
"Orange."
"Orange, who?"
"Orange you glad I'm not a serial killer?"
"That wasn’t even good."
"I know. It would've been better if I could've pulled the knife out of my belt. You know, just for show." He twiddled his fingers at you.
"That wouldn’t have helped," you said.
"Nope," he agreed. "But it would've made a great story."
"I suppose."
"Yeah. Hey, hey, I got another one: Knock knock."
"You just—"
"Knock knock."
You let out a huff. This man was the most childish, annoying, idiotic, strange, weird—
"Knock knock."
"Oh, just fucking tell me the joke!"
"No! It doesn't work that way!"
You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, he beat you to it.
"Okay, okay, how about this: Knock knock."
You didn't say anything.
"Knock knock."
Your eyes flickered over to him for a second.
"Knock knock."
"For fucks sake!" You exclaimed. "Who's there?"
He leaned forward, closer to you, and you could see his mouth moving.
"Deadpool."
You were confused.
"D-Deadpool? Is this a reference to that shitty horror movie? If so, that wasn't even good, and I'm not laughing, and I don't get the joke."
He just gave you a blank look, or at least you thought he did.
"No. My name's Deadpool."
"That’s…" you trailed off. "A pretty dumb name. Like that outfit you're wearing."
"Hey! Diss the name all you want, but don’t you dare diss the suit. It's my trademark. Not everyone can pull off this type of look; it’s a very rare art."
"Whatever. You still haven't told me the punch line to your dumb joke."
"Punch line? I never said there was a punch line. It was a knock knock joke."
"So then… What was the point? To annoy the driver into wanting to run you over again?"
He chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated in his throat. That… That was… oh.
He was still close, and now, with the new angle, you could see the small, yet very visible, curve of his lips, and that made you wonder who was actually hiding behind the mask.
"You are seriously the strangest person I've ever met."
"Oh, babe, you don't even know the half of it."
"Please, enlighten me," you replied sarcastically, glancing over at him.
His masked eyes looked into yours, and you knew he was grinning; you could practically feel it.
"What do you wanna know?" He asked.
"Uh, I don't know. Something other than the fact that you're a nutcase. How about your real name? It's obviously not 'Deadpool,' and I doubt anyone actually calls you that. So, what's your actual name?"
"Oh, wow. Right off the bat, huh? You know, the last girl I was with wasn’t nearly as direct. Then again, she never sprayed me like I was a roach in her kitchen."
You didn’t respond. You kept your eyes on the road.
"Fine," he relented. "But don’t expect a happy ending. This isn’t Kanas anymore, Toto."
He leaned back in his seat, his arm hanging off the open window, the wind blowing through his red suit.
"Names Wade, like the boxers, but without the fancy pants."
You raised an eyebrow.
"Wade Winston Wilson, I love long walks on the beach, and a good movie, and tacos, and chimichangas, and guns. Especially guns. Kinky, but not too kinky… and did I mention the tacos? Cause I love fucking love tacos."
Maybe you should start carrying tape around.
"What about you, sugar lips?" He asked, gesturing to you with the hand he wasn’t leaning against. "Got a name, or can I call you mine? Ooh, I should’ve used that before the pepper spray. 'What's your name, or can I call you mine?' Classic, Wade. Well, except for the fact that I forgot the 'I'd like to hit it from the back' part. Damn, should have used that, too. It's a good thing they gave you the lead. Otherwise, the audience would've been confused. They would've been wondering, 'Why did the writer suddenly change the dialogue to be about sex? Wasn’t this supposed to be that pure Notebook love story we all wanted?'"
He paused for a moment.
"Wait a minute. Are we still doing the monologue thing, or is the writer done? Cause, no offense, but that was a shitty transition. And, come on, no one wants a Notebook love story anymore. Who writes those? What we need is a little romance and a whole lotta smut."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Me? Nothing, just giving some feedback. I've always had an open relationship with writers. Some might even call me the next J.K Rowling. Except, instead of a lighting scar and magic, I have an ass load of weapons with an insatiable lust for violence and blood. And tacos."
You decided to ignore him.
"Anyway, back to you. You never answered my question. Do you have a name or not?"
"I can’t believe I actually agreed to give you a ride home."
"Yeah," he said, sounding bored. "Why did you do that?"
"I don’t know. Because I hit you with my car and felt bad? You had a broken arm and were bleeding out all over the ground."
"First sign of insanity."
"What?"
"Nothing," his mask wiggled around the area of his eyebrows. "So, your name? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pull out the classic yes and no abbreviations. You know what? I’m just gonna call you Spidey. It's easier, and it’ll sound sexier when you're screaming it later."
You rolled your eyes, deciding just to ignore his comments for the rest of the drive. You were wishing that you didn't live in a city full of traffic cause, damn, this was taking a while.
"Alright, turn here."
You followed the directions and pulled up in front of an abandoned-looking building. You didn't say anything, but you did raise an eyebrow in question.
"What? A guy like me has to keep his place secret, especially when the fangirls are after him."
"I didn’t ask."
"Yeah, but I saw you wondering."
"Right."
"Hey, Spidey," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Thanks for the ride."
"No problem. Just make sure to keep your ass away from car bumpers. And out of my car."
"Awe, come on, baby cakes, don't be like that. You're really missing out. My ass is the finest in the business. Not to mention my package. You should see the reviews I get online."
You snorted. "I'll take your word for it."
"Yeah, you will," he said, leaning over and patting your cheek. "Hey, if you ever get lonely, or bored, or horny, or whatever, just give me a call. Here," he handed you a crumpled piece of paper. "Don't lose it, that's my number. We should totally bang, like, tomorrow, or tonight, or right now."
"Goodbye, Wade," you said, and he took it as his cue to leave. He gave a silly salute and exited the car, but not without giving you a wink first.
"See you soon, Spidey!"
With that, he walked up to the building and disappeared inside. With a sigh, you collapsed into the seat, not even bothering to watch him. You were exhausted, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep.
After a couple of minutes of relishing the nice breeze that came through the open windows, you sat up and un-crinkled the paper.
The only thing written on it was a phone number, with a small, messy, red heart and a few words that honestly had you questioning the sanity of the world:
'If you're lucky, maybe I'll even let you top. ;)'
——
Spoiler alert: it took about a month for the two of you to hook up.
And no, you did not have Domino’s luck.
3K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 6 months ago
Text
my boyfriend will kick your ass !
Tumblr media
- fushiguro megumi x reader
it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?
genre/warnings: tw. street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !
note: i miss my emo boi :(
general masterlist
Tumblr media
“Stay back!”
This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.
“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”
“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”
“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.
“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”
It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?
Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.
"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"
Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."
It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.
And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.
Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."
He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly that."
It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—
"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."
Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:
"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"
—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.
You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?
Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.
You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?
"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"
"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"
These guys were straight-up perverts!
"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"
You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.
In hindsight, a stupid move—
You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—
"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.
You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.
"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?
"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"
"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"
You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—
"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."
At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—
You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.
"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"
Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"
The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.
"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.
"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"
Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."
If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.
And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.
Tumblr media
Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.
Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.
You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."
"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."
Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.
And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions last week."
You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.
“I was so burnt out— that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time.” Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.
"You never told me," you pointed out.
“Yeah, uh, sorry...” he winced. “It’s so... lame. I’ve been exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know.”
"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"
As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.
Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.
When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.
"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.
"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"
You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."
You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.
"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."
"You..." Unwittingly, he cracked a smile at your blatant remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."
He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."
Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."
He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."
“Huh? You remembered! But you don’t like them?”
“You like that kind of sugar dump, don’t you?”
Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.
“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your joined hands in joy. “And you really did~”
“What are you talking about…?”
Sometimes you were beyond his comprehension. Sometimes you were also cute beyond comparison.
And Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.
7K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 1 month ago
Text
as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 1
LN x fem!leclerc reader
part 1 of 2 -> find part two linked HERE!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which you just can’t help yourself and neither can lando…
I’M BACK BITCHES!!!! hi sorry it’s been a while but we are back with what i hope is a bang lol. i’ve missed writing so much and as stressful as this was, i’m so so glad to be uploading something! i worked hard on this one and, of course, now i hate it whoops, but my girlie @lavenderlando made this possible and worth it. that’s my hype woman fr fr. N E WAY enjoy! lemme know what you think, and use some imagination for the timeline…
songs to set the vibe: i love you, i’m sorry by gracie abrams, 2hands by tate mcrae, love in the dark by adele, illicit affairs by taylor swift, think twice by suki waterhouse
warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!),
part 1: 10.3k words
1. oncoming traffic 
“hey, osc, who’s that girl hanging around leclerc? thought he was still with alex.” lando tries his best to sound nonchalant, but oscar can see through him like a freshly buffed window, the way lando clears his throat and nervously ruffles his unruly hair. 
“mate, i know you’re not the sharpest but i didn’t think you were that slow.” oscar laughs, side-eyeing the brit. he was baffled that lando was even asking. lando just shoots him a glare. “wait, you really don’t know?” lando’s glare hardens further, his eyes demanding an answer and oscar just laughs. “that’s his sister, you idiot. how have you never seen her?” 
lando didn’t know how he’d never seen her. this year had been nonstop, what with the pseudo-championship battle and the never ending media shitstorm that rained on him whenever he reared his head. he’d also learned in his years of racing never to look too closely at the women in another drivers entourage. that’s how you ended up in the wall during a race. but charles’ sister? how had he never noticed? 
“maybe i should go and introduce myself.” lando trailed off thoughtfully, his voice remaining playful. oscar snorted beside him, adjusting his racesuit. 
“ooh, yeah, send twitter into a frenzy. it’s been boring lately.” the aussie driver drawls sarcastically, successfully dodging lando’s rapidly approaching elbow to his ribs. 
“glad to know that you take pleasure in my never ending public humiliation!” lando grins maniacally, sauntering out of the garage, no longer any intention of seeking out the pretty girl in the short, black skirt. it was for the best. 
he’s passing through the pit box, immersed in a groupchat thread with max and p about a trip to portugal that he didn’t really want to go on, and bam! like the idiot oscar had just accused him of being, he slams blindly into oncoming traffic. 
oncoming traffic: the pretty girl in the short, black skirt.
“are you incapable of looking where you’re going?” your accent comes out thick, low with rage. it tickles his brain, like he’s heard it before. lando opens his mouth, like a fish out of water, closes it again pathetically. “seriously, for a pilot you have abysmal spacial awareness!” 
“sorry… what the fuck.” lando mutters. why is this woman shouting at him like she knows him? like he regularly barrels into her? 
“lando, yes?” you’ve calmed down a bit now, but you still speak through gritted teeth. 
“…yes?” he replies like he’s not so sure. 
“learn to look where you’re going.” you wrinkle your nose, composing yourself before stepping around him and strutting down the pitlane as if nothing had happened. 
lando stands there, fixed in place, watching her walk away in utter confusion. 
“smooth!” oscar calls from inside the garage, flanked by several laughing mechanics. 
“go fuck yourself!” lando’s flushed red, now, and beeline’s for the pit wall. 
he’s out of earshot when oscar says it. 
“think he just met his wife, boys.” 
-
lando is staring at the data on the screen when it hits him, will’s voice somewhere far away all of the sudden. 
the mysterious leclerc had every right to reprimand him, because she was right. he did need to learn how to look where he’s going. 
she’d told him that already, during their actual first meeting. 
-
2. the first collision 
the music was too loud, suffocating him along with the overbearing smell of cheap perfume, but the alcohol in his system and the outpouring of validation kept lando going. 
three time race winner, lando norris. 
five years of clawing back points and grabbing at podiums with two impatient hands had built up to this, to the incomparable glory of gracing that prestigious top step, and lando wasn’t about to let go of this moment just because of a pressing headache. max and pietra were waiting for him in a booth, surrounded by the rest of lando’s touring entourage. he was wracking up quite the tab, but it was all worth it. every slap on the back, seductive grin sent his way, made it worth it. 
he’s stumbling over his feet, wasted, or close to it, grinning lazily, peering through hooded eyes. the vodka cranberry in his hand is sloshing dangerously around in the glass, his careless movements propelling him towards disaster. 
lando hears the splatter of liquid, first, the scoff of disgust immediately after. long hair whips against his face as she turns, eyes wide with fury, set into a face that was never meant to look angry. he can smell vanilla, flowers. she’s an angel, turned devilish under the strobe lights, her delicate face morphing when he takes in the sight of him. 
“are you fucking serious? mon dieu!” her accent twists his tummy, as does the increasingly see-through material of her tight white dress, layers of chiffon turning transparent with the stark red liquid. it’s all over her back, running slowly down the length of her exposed thighs, sticky. lando stands there, utterly transfixed and useless. she looks like she might slap him; he kind of wants her to. “of course, just stand there. fucking pilots.” 
she mutters the last part and lando gulps. what does she know about other drivers? the implication makes his skin crawl for no reason, the idea of this nameless, mystery woman being familiar with his co-workers. he’s flushed with embarrassment for a multitude of reasons, opening his mouth just to close it again. 
“‘m sorry!” he finally calls out to her, over the music. can the dj turn that shit down? “can i buy you a drink?” she just glares at him, gesturing at her ruined dress. “or… a new dress?” lando tries again, flashing what he hopes are puppy dog eyes. 
he wants to take her back to his hotel room, lick the sweet liquid off of her frame, lap at her til she’s clean and crying. he wants to peel the stained white material off, tear it a little - it’s already ruined anyway! he can’t, though, because she’s wrinkling her nose at him, eyebrow raised, judging, and he’s awash with embarrassment all over again. the club spins and he feels nauseous. he finds max’s eyes on him, his friend stifling laughter at the tragic scene. 
she’s gone when he looks back, seems to have disappeared into a cloud of distinctly expensive perfume, and her friends are curling their lips up at him, dismissive. they don’t care who he is. he wonders if they’re redbull fans, ferrari fans, perhaps. 
he’s met with hoots of laughter as he slumps into the booth. he grabs a shot without a thought, doesn’t even register what liquor it is as it slides down his thick throat. 
“can’t believe you just did that. only you would spill a drink all over leclerc’s sister.” max teases, elbowing him playfully. 
“wha- he has a sister?” lando slurs, spluttering. 
he doesn’t remember much after that. 
youruser just posted on instagram:
Tumblr media
tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc
liked by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others.
youruser: shoutout to the guy that spilled his drink all over me!
francisca.cgomes: so beautiful so slay i miss u already
alexandrasaintmleux: love you!!!
charles_leclerc: delete this 🤦‍♂️
and other comments.
-
3. the watchful eyes of the big, black horse 
your arm is linked with kika’s, giggling with her as you walk through the paddock. 
“what about him?” kika whispers, pointing her chin towards one of the passing alpine mechanics. he’s blonde, pale, eyes dark.  “pierre said he heard that he’s good with the ladies.” she wiggles her eyebrows and your cheeks heat up, swatting her playfully. 
“i am not about to get a reputation for sleeping my way through the paddock.” you scoff. “plus, he’s not my type.” you shrug. 
“you need to start putting yourself out there more, you keep saying you want someone.” the portuguese girl reasons. you nod sheepishly. 
“i don’t wanna look for something, i want it to find me. is that pathetic? i just see how you are with pierre, how alex is with charles, and that’s what i want. something… real.” you sigh. kika sees the way your eyes gloss over with sadness. 
“it’s never as easy and as perfect as it looks, babe, trust me. and anyway, maybe just focus on… the thing you were telling me about.” kika lowers her voice, giving you the look.
“shut up!” you squeal. “god, i am not discussing that here!” 
“discussing what?” you hear pierre before you see him, hot with embarrassment. you’ve know him since before you could even walk, which is why you have no problem voicing your deepest, darkest shame. 
“how i’m not getting laid, apparently!” you drawl sarcastically, slapping your hand over your forehead. 
a poorly concealed laugh that you don’t recognise has you whipping around, eyes wide with bewilderment. it’s hearty, smooth, surprisingly warming. you practically growl when your eyes land on the source of the noise, standing next to pierre who looks embarrassed for you, his lips pressed thinly together to prevent himself from cackling. 
“why is he here?” you grit your teeth, squeezing your eyes so tightly shut that you feel a pang in your temples. 
“as polite as ever.” lando smirks. you open
your eyes just in time to catch him eyeing up the skin of your thighs that your skirt doesn’t quite cover. is he checking you out? 
“says the drink spiller.” you bite back, rolling your eyes. 
“hey, i tried to pay for the damage.” lando looks utterly amused, pink lips still twisted into a punch-worthy smirk. 
“so, you’ve met lando, then.” pierre grins, staring between you both. you don’t register the way he’s trading looks with kika, watching whatever this scene is unfold. 
“unfortunately!” you smile tightly at the racing drivers. 
“pretty sure you walked into me that second time. distracting me in the workplace, or something.” lando chimes in, enjoying this all a bit too much. 
“if you did a better job at looking where you’re going-“ 
“okay, so this has been delightful!” pierre buts in, knowing that you have the shortest temper of all the leclerc offspring. “you,” he points at you. “get laid. you,” he points at lando. “don’t piss her off, you won’t like the result.”
kika can only send you a sympathetic smile, and remind you of the coffee date you have scheduled for tomorrow morning, as she’s dragged away from your place of social suicide. pierre winks, tilts his head far too pointedly for your liking towards lando. you fantasise, in that moment, of clawing his eyes out. 
“i am sorry, for the record.” lando smiles at you, genuine and gleaming. something inside of you twists. 
“for which time?” you’re just teasing now, but he doesn’t need to know that. 
“you have quite the attitude on you. that why you’re not getting any?”
you’re about to rip his head off and give max an even easier ride towards the championship, but lando steps forward. you can smell old spice, tangy and alluring and masculine. 
“how fucking dare you-“ 
“because most men don’t know what to do with a woman like you. don’t know how to treat them right.” he’s so confident when he says it, leaning towards you in a way you can only describe as enticingly. 
“oh, and you do?” you scoff, arms crossed. you must remain combative, or else you’ll give in. is this rock bottom?
“i’m free tonight if you wanna find out.” 
“i’ll be far too busy doing literally anything else.” you can only pray he hasn’t caught the tremble in your voice, the ever so slight quiver of you bottom lip. you chew it into your mouth to stop yourself. 
“but not anyone else.” lando doesn’t pose it as a question. it seems that he’s got you all figured out. 
“whatever helps you and your hand sleep well tonight.” you spit. there’s heat between you, sparking into a flame that could burn down your whole life. you feel eyes burning into the back of your head - green ones that match yours. you falter. “i’m done here, lando. have a fantastic evening.” 
he takes another liberty, leaning in even closer. spearmint and the idea of a million bad choices flood your every pore. you can feel the big, black horse watching over you, now, set into bright yellow, adorned with ferrari red. looming, warning, turning you in. 
“you know, something tells me i will.” 
lando disappears first, not even giving you a chance you spin on your heel and storm off. you want to kill him, hurt him, sink your teeth into that bronzed, thick throat, claw into his back, down, down, down… until you’re on your knees and- 
“why were you talking to lando?” charles’ voice cuts through your filthy thoughts and you sign yourself over to god immediately, purifying yourself as you banish the visions of delicious sin. after all, you’re standing in the presence of il predestinato, the prince of monaco, a saint to many. but to you, he’s just your brother. your big brother, always in the way, always meddling, always, always watching. you sigh. 
“friendly conversation.” you quip, short. you love him dearly, would take bullets for him, but, god, he keeps you on a leash. leo’s has more give than the conceptual tether charles has to you, keeping you close, boyfriendless, out of “trouble”. you know why, and deep down, you’re beyond grateful, all things considered. you can’t admit that, though. 
“that’s not how pierre described it to me.” charles raises an eyebrow, voice bitter despite the clear attempt he’s made to try and hide it. 
“fucking pierre.” you grunt. “it’s nothing, he came over with pierre. i was with kika. first time i’ve ever even had a conversation with lando.” that didn’t result from a drink being spilt over you to the point of transparency. you leave that bit out - charles really doesn’t need to know that. 
charles mulls over your words, eyeing you suspiciously. you want to stomp your heeled foot like a child, a brat, scream and shout and kick and wail that he has to back the fuck off eventually, but you just smile innocently and pray he believes you. 
“okay,” he mutters, making his peace. “i don’t want you getting too… familiar with him. bad reputation. he used to be quite sweet until his last breakup and now he will fuck anything with a pulse.” you wrinkle your nose at your brothers crude words, feeling the need to jump in and object. but why? you don’t know lando, you don’t care about lando. you press your lips into a thin, painful line. “you should go back to the hotel with alex. looks like i’ll be here late.” he rolls his eyes, you know how it is. 
“sure, good luck.” you offer, smothering the rage that pools in your belly. let me fucking live, you think. just because he’d had to swoop in and save you from yourself once before, didn’t mean that you could live like this forever. 
he has lit a spark under you, one that spreads like a wildfire towards the flame that lando ignited minutes before. if only your brother knew how to keep his big mouth shut, you wouldn’t be spurred on to bad behaviour. 
if only lando hadn’t spilled that drink over you, maybe you wouldn’t be opening his instagram profile and sending a message request. 
a place. your room number. a time. 
you only wish you’d gotten to see the devilish grin on his face when he received it. 
lando can’t want you for the reasons that other guys do. your status as charles leclerc’s little sister, and the gateway to your brother that you provided, meant nothing to the brit. that’s why you’d let him have you; he wouldn’t try to take more than you wanted to give. 
-
4. generous 
the knocks are soft against the door, yet they manage to have every hair on your body standing to attention. you’re quick to let him in, itching to get him inside and away from prying eyes. this is clandestine, secret, could even feel somewhat sacred once it’s over, and the last possible thing you could ever need is for another soul to know what you intend to do with lando, what you intend to let him do to you. 
“hey.” 
“hi.” 
you stare at each other. 
he steps forward. you don’t move away. he takes it as an invitation to close the space entirely, so close that, there it is again: oldspice, except this time it’s mixed with something fresh, shower gel you guess, sea salt. his curls are crisper than they were a few hours ago, still damp from the shower he must have just taken. 
“what changed your mind?” he asks. 
“i was feeling generous.” you deadpan. he bites back a laugh. 
“generous, huh?”
“very.” 
“considering your alleged dry spell, i’d say i’m the generous one, no?” his voiced is edged with something dark, dropped a few octaves. you could absolutely squirm under his gaze, but you hold strong. 
“you know where the door is if that’s how you’re gonna be.” you coo, mocking his seductive undercurrent. all he does is flash his teeth, grinning cheekily, his way of accepting your challenge, your attitude. 
“i think you want me to stay, honey.” 
honey. you fear it works on you. the gap closes even further, you fear it’s your doing. 
“you’re only getting this opportunity because i invited you here.” your resolve is slipping. you’ve admitted that you want him in your pathetic bid to hold the power, when the truth is, you want him to pounce on you, strip away every layer and barrier and make you see stars, feel euphoric. 
“okay, honey, whatever you say.” he chuckles, cruel and taunting. “so, how dry of a spell has it been? wanna know what i’m working with.” 
lando touches you then, lightning shooting down your arm as he traces from your elbow down to your fingers, featherlight, barely there, a ghost of a touch that haunts you so deliciously. your fingers intertwine. you initiate it, but really, it’s his fault. this is all his fault.
you try and laugh, but it sounds broken, quivering it’s way out from your dry throat. 
“dry.”
he just stares at you, expectant. he needs to hear more, needs to know. he craves details about you, has ever since you body slammed him outside his garage - leading to some very covert instagram stalking on his behalf and his oh so convenient way of worming his way into a conversation with pierre when lando could see that the other driver was on his way over towards you. it’s pathetic, maybe, but he craves you the way one craves nicotine forever after just one puff of a cigarette. he has you, just for tonight, maybe longer if he gets this right, so he will know everything he needs to know so that he can touch you just how you need. 
“i’ve only… it’s been a while.” 
he sees right through you. 
“you’ve only what?” he presses. he needs to know.
“i’ve only done this once.” you whisper. it’s the meekest he’s seen you. he loathes it. 
“and was it good?” lando murmurs so attentively that you want to cry. 
your fourth interaction with this man, and he has you melting. 
“not really.” 
“do you trust me?” his nose is bumping yours. you’re locked in, twitching. he has both hands on you, now, one still laced with yours, the other trailing up your arm, tempted to brush his fingertips against the taut skin of your neck. 
how the fuck can i trust you? i don’t know you! what the fuck are we doing? what the fuck am i doing?
that’s not what you say, though, because for some reason, you are so sickeningly comfortable and okay that you worry that something is wrong with you. 
“yes.”
“then this time will be so, so much better. i’ll make it all better.” 
when his lips meet yours, you’re surprised at how good it immediately feels. you don’t know what you were expecting, but his lips are plush, enveloping yours softly, but firm enough that you sink into him, allowing him to cement that grip on the side of your neck that he’d been taunting you with. 
he kisses you like he’s sure of everything, like this is second nature and you’ve done it a thousand times. you want to kiss him a thousand times. why it’s so good, you’re not sure, but it gives you the confidence to lean into him, grab the bottom of his hoodie in your hands and tug. 
“be patient, ‘n i’ll make you feel so good, honey, i promise.” he mouths down your cheek, nipping at your jaw, down your neck until he finds that special spot below your ear. he nibbles there, lapping his tongue over your sensitive skin like he already knows your body. you want to see just how familiar with you he can get. “but,” he punctuates the word with a sharp bite. you both dread and revel in the mark it will leave. “you have to behave for me, okay?” 
his words are whispered against the shell of your ear and you shiver, eyes rolled back already. you wonder if he’ll get them to do a full three-sixty rotation in your skull. 
“‘kay.” you breathe, mindless, floating away. it’s already better than last time.
“‘kay’?” he mocks. “no, honey, you gotta promise me. can you promise me?” 
“promise.” you lock eyes, conveying your obedience. his eyes blow wide, pupils dilating to shove away the mysterious bluey green. his teeth grit. he knows he’s hit the jackpot. 
“good girl.” 
you’re stripped naked, mustering all of your energy to shove his clothes off, his hoodie flying away, his sweats kicked into a faraway dark corner. you’re left naked, him in some increasingly tight boxers, and you tumble into the freshly made bed. he slinks over you, crawling on his hands and knees, predator stalking prey. 
he stains your inner thighs purple, tugging your legs over his shoulder, huge hands warm and rough as they manoeuvre your malleable body to his liking. lando presses kisses to every inch of skin, dragging his tongue over your bare flesh before he spreads you open, sucking and tasting and savouring. he moans into you, open and wet, and it ricochets off of every nerve ending, sending your body taut and arched, catlike. you’re trying to get away, whilst simultaneously grinding yourself closed to him, feeling that broad, sharp nose of his bump messily and firmly against your clit, an ache spreading through your pelvis that makes you shake and shake and whine his name out to the gods. 
“taste like heaven.” lando’s words are simple, straightforward, make you bite your lip so hard you taste something metallic seeping over your tongue. “so tight, even around my tongue,” he slurs, drunk, lost. “gotta stretch you out for me. that okay, honey?” you can just about make it all out, and you nod furiously, pleading. 
his teeth graze your clit. 
“say please.” 
“putain! please!” you kick your feet out when all he does is laugh into your wet flesh. 
one finger grazes through your folds, parting them and collecting a mess of your slick. he looks transfixed as it drips down his finger. 
honey.
you watch him watch how he opens you up, revelling in the utter fascination painting his features, pussy drunk and curious, transfixed. 
“can’t believe you’ve never been fucked right.” he coos, breathless, genuinely shocked. you quake under his skilful hands and his awful, sinful, dirty mouth. 
“more.” you plead, not ashamed by your crude begging. you’re a mess for him already, might as well get the full experience. 
“think you can take another?” 
a second finger slides in, rocking against your walls, testing the waters. you writhe, meeting his movements with shallow thrusts of your hips. 
“faster, i need- mon dieu! anything, lando, please just-“ he really goes to town then, scissoring your dripping cunt open, curling and twisting and grinding the two digits so deep that you see white, hazy chocolate coloured curls and deep, glazed over eyes. 
“that’s it, honey, there you go. so fucking pretty for me.” lando whispers the last bit, awestruck, and you’d take the time to wonder why if you weren’t on the verge of tears, overstimulated, ears ringing. your orgasm crashes over you like a surge of electricity, tearing through your body like it’s trying to escape and take cover. it’s so strong that you’re damp everywhere, sweating and crying and so fucking shocked that it can feel like this. 
“lando.” you pant, mouth dry, voice hoarse.  
“you did so good. was it okay?” he rubs small circles into your hips, eyes flitting between your own and where you’re still leaking for him. he manages to tear his eyes away, like a trance has broken, snaking up your body until he’s laying next to you, propped up on his elbow. he hovers over you, raking his eyes over the rising and falling lines of your body. 
“pretty good, i guess. didn’t know you had it in you.” you tease, smirking lazily up at him. 
you want to keep staring at him but your vision is blurring as your eyes begin to droop. what a long day it’s been. 
“high praise coming from you.” lando reasons, laughing lightly. he strokes over your hipbone and you jolt, curling around onto your side. his skin is warm against yours, soft and smooth, and you dare you press your even closer, shy, as if he wasn’t just buried mercilessly between your legs. you hum in response, spent and languid. “you wanna get some sleep?” he asks. 
“we didn’t… i mean, you didn’t…” you trail off, awkward, gesturing towards his middle. 
lando just smiles. 
“guess i’ll just have to come find you in monaco.” 
you flush, cheeks burning as you consider the fact that you’re gonna be in the same country, a very small, very private city. who knows what could happen? 
you fall asleep quickly, easily, far too comfortable next to the british driver. if you were to ask, he’d say he left immediately. he watches the way you breathe far too intently, ever so slowly pulling his clothes back on. he doesn’t know how long passes, but what he does know is that he can’t wait to have you like this again. 
-
5.  some guy 
you sink into the oversized armchair, sitting back and letting kika and alex talk, nattering backwards and forwards about nothing in particular. or, maybe you’re just zoned the fuck out. 
you can’t stop thinking about the way he touched you, your body littered with evidence, dark purple bruises turning a stale green between you thighs. when you woke up, you initially wondered if it was all a dream, but the dull, sweet ache thrumming through your bones told you just how real it really was. you went through the motions, embarrassed momentarily before deciding to just embrace it, try to bask in the way he’d made you feel: sexy and desirable and electric. 
it was just a shame that it had to be him. that’s what you kept telling yourself, at least. 
kika’s nodding along to a story alex is telling about leo, about to respond with a similar anecdote about simba but she gasps instead, almost spilling her americano all over herself. this gets your attention and you open your mouth to ask her is she’s okay, but she beats you to it. 
“my god, what is that?” she chokes, staring at you. or, well, your neck. 
you flush, heated, blood pooling in your cheeks. 
you’d tried to cover it up, seriously, applying layer after layer of concealer and strategically placing your hair in such a way that you prayed it wouldn’t be noticeable, but nonetheless, there it is, clear as day. red raw skin tinged purple around the seams, branded into your neck like some kind of public humiliation ritual. 
fuck you, lando fucking norris!
you avert eye contact, leaning away from alex who is now making a point of leaning in, going as far as to push your hair back so she can get a closer look. 
“oh my gosh!” she squeals, giggling with kika. 
you take a long, slow gulp of coffee, not caring that it burns your tongue. 
“who was it? holy shit, was it lando?” kika whisper shouts and you officially drop dead on the spot, watching her connect the dots so easily. 
“oh jesus, no! no!” you lie, feigning offence, your leg bouncing shamefully under the table. the two girls eye you suspiciously, but you assume you’ve played it off well. 
“who, then?” alex asks. you wonder if kika has told her about yesterdays interaction. 
“just- i don’t even know, some guy.” you huff, playing with a loose thread hanging from your jumper. 
“some guy? after what you were saying yesterday? okay, babe.” kika teases sarcastically. “no, cmon, who?” she pouts, leaning in as well. 
“just… someone.” you squeak, unable to look up at them. 
“okay, well, we will find out eventually.” alex wiggles her eyebrows and you stick your tongue out, mock-glaring at your sister in law. 
“no, the fuck you won’t.” you try and fake some confidence, scrapping for a mere shred of control. 
yes, the fuck they will, because when you leave for the bathroom, you leave your phone unlocked like the utter fool you are. god has it out for you, you figure, because that’s when he chooses to strike. 
the message lando sends you is short and sweet, and alex chokes on a piece of cake when kika starts gesturing wildly at the notification that pops up on your screen. 
for when you’re lonely at home and can’t find anyone to fuck you right.
attached is his address. 
they don’t breathe a word when you come back, but they share a knowing smirk when they catch you smiling at your phone, and again when you ask if either of them have anything with a higher neckline that you can wear for the race. 
youruser has just posted on instagram:
Tumblr media
tagged: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux
liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and others
youruser: race day, big slay
user1: LEO!!!
alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest girl in the world
user45: lando what are you doing here 🤔
6.    manners
“are you even listening to me right now?” charles scoffs, finishing off his drink out of annoyance. your eyes snap back to him, the thumping music vibrating through your body. 
“sorry, just tipsy.” you purse your lips, attempting to lock back in on whatever he’s saying, but it’s hard. it’s hard, because sprawled out in a booth across from where you stand at the bar, lando is watching your every move. 
you’ve managed to avoid him thus far, no contact since you’d liked the DM he’d sent you a few weeks back. you’d be lying through your teeth if you said you didn’t think of him and what you’d done at literally every waking moment, so the way he’s watching you, hooded eyes sparkling under the strobe lights, has you squirming. it was easier to tell yourself that, surely, it wasn’t that good when he wasn’t right in front of you in a half unbuttoned shirt. the navy blue fabric is wrapped around his body deliciously, taut where his muscles are, the colour popping against his tanned skin - which you can practically feel writhing against yours. 
you wish charles would go away so you could crawl into that booth and commit public indecency. 
speak of the devil, your brother seems to have clocked that you have zero interest in what he has to say so he huffs, ordering another round for the table and telling you he’s going to find alex. he shuffles away and you subtly search for the british drivers mindful eyes, but he’s disappeared, left his entourage in the booth. you swallow disappointment that makes you feel pathetic, head in your hands against the bar top, but the lightest brush of fingers against your waist drags you out of your spiral. you know immediately. 
“did you dress like that for me, or are you just a slut?” he’s grinning, light and teasing, surprisingly sober, tipsy at most, just like you. 
“i could ask you the same.” you smirk, blatantly eyeing his exposed chest. he shrugs, leaning in. 
”might have left an extra button undone just for you.” lando winks and you hope the lights hide the way you flush. 
“sure you did, just for me and every other girl in here.” you challenge. his eyebrows furrow. 
“nope. just for you.” his eyes darken, just a tad but enough that you notice. your mouth runs dry. “you never replied to me.” 
“not true, i liked the message.” you smile coyly, sipping your drink. your lipstick smears against the rim of the glass and you watch him stare at the print, tongue wetting his lips. 
“you are something else.” he shakes his head, pushing his curls back. it could be frustration, but he still seems at ease, like he’s enjoying your combative nature. you smile into the glass, hoping he doesn’t notice. he does. “how much have you had to drink?” 
“this is my second.” 
“you sober enough for me to take you home?” lando’s face is mere inches away from yours now, and you can feel the pull, desperate to crawl into the space that still remains and lose yourself there. 
“depends.” 
“on?” you truly exasperate him, but he thinks he loves it. 
“if you’re actually gonna fuck me this time.” you casually take another sip, playing it off as if your crude words had no impact on you. 
lando’s eyes widen at your bluntness, and so does his grin. 
“meet me by the valet.” 
lando leaves, and you quickly follow, downing the remnants of your glass and touching up your lipgloss. 
-
alex watches from her booth, and pulls out her phone. 
to: kika gomes 
oh, she’s deeeeefinitely sleeping with lando!!!  
-
pietra leans towards her boyfriend, close enough that he can hear her over the noise. 
“isn’t that charles’ sister?” she shouts, pointing to the bar, where lando is stood. 
max analyses the way he’s stood, leant  against the bar, nice and close to the ferrari drivers little sister. he knows that look on lando’s face, and he knows it far too well. max pinches the bridge of his nose. 
“oh for fuck sake.” 
-
it’s weird, sitting with him in silence. he’s only had half a drink, able to drive back through the winding hills to his apartment. you stare out the window, mostly, when you aren’t staring blatantly and curiously at lando. you can see the sea, glistening under the moonlight and you wish you could focus on that instead, but he’s there, and you have to admit - begrudgingly, albeit - that he’s stunning. his hands wrap around the wheel tauntingly, as if he’s trying to convey how he’ll touch you, all consumingly. your thighs press together, your fingers clasping together as if you’re subconsciously stopping yourself from reaching out for him prematurely. 
as if he can hear your thoughts, his palm smoothes over the skin of your bare thigh, right where your dress has ridden up, without a second thought, nothing tentative about the way his digits curve around your skin. 
“so, you’ve been thinking about that night, then?” he breaks the silence, glancing over at you. 
“what makes you say that?” you whisper, not even meaning to but the silence had been so heavy. 
“well, you only left with me on the condition i’d bend you over.” he laughs loud, whole and warm. you fight it, just for a second, but then you join in, giving in to him. you can’t help it, he makes it easy. 
“you got me.” you concede, rolling your eyes. without realising it, you’ve relaxed completely into his touch. 
he pulls off of the road and into a private garage. you breath hitches.
-
“do you want a drink or…?” lando gestures blindly towards his kitchen, walking further into the apartment. 
he’d spent the elevator ride up to his place leant against the opposite wall, taunting, making you wait. he’d let himself look at you, totally unabashedly, raking his eyes over your frame, meekly tucked into the corner, shy under his intense gaze but frustrated by his lack of urgency. 
“i’m good. didn’t come here for a tea party.” you hope your words push his buttons. they must, because he turns on his heel, facing you again, suddenly towering over you. 
his eyes are steel, face serious, and you don’t know what to do. you’ve never seen him look at you like this. 
“i think we need to work on your manners.” he speaks condescendingly, down at you, and if you weren’t so needy, hadn’t been waiting weeks, you’d turn around and leave just to really prove his point. but you stay planted, looking up at him through mascara coated lashes, softening you gaze until you’re sure you’re conveying faux innocence. 
“maybe we can work on them in your bedroom.” you truly don’t know where you get this confidence from, he’s the second man to have ever touched you so intimately, but he’s magnetic, drawing you out of your own head and straight towards him. 
he tugs you towards him, kissing you messily, right there in the dim light of his kitchen, pawing at your waist hungrily. his tongue brushes your and you moan, humming into his mouth at the faint taste of mint and vodka, long gone but you can taste everything. his thick fingers find your ass, hoisting you up until you have no option but to wrap your legs around him, your dress scratching at your thighs the higher it rides up, but all it does it turn you on more, rough sensations on sensitive skin. 
lando walks you blindly to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss, and you wonder how many times he’s done this to get it down to muscle memory. the thought makes you nauseous, drags you mercilessly right back into your head, and you pull away, your lips barely brushing his. 
“why me?” you breathe, panting into the shallow space where your mouths have parted.
“what?” he whispers, confused. 
“why do you want to do this with me?” you have to check, past insecurities rising to the surface like bile in the back of your throat. he looks genuinely baffled and you feel foolish for ruining the moment. 
“why wouldn’t i? you’re gorgeous and-“ he cuts himself off, his eyes glazing over. the demeanour slips and you’re stuck, his arms still tight around you, holding you close in the empty space at the foot of his bed. 
“what?” you whisper. 
“you’re part of the same life.” the way he looks at you says words that he can’t. 
words that will sound too shallow and too selfish and too meaningless, even though you will understand them because you’re here for similar reasons, and therefore, they will mean too much. 
you can’t take things from him. you can’t fake it. you can’t break him into a million pieces when he finally discovers that you want him because of what he can give you.
you nod once, firm.  
“i get it.” you smile sadly. lando wants to know more. he can find out some other time. a moment of clarity passes between you. “kiss me, again?” you ask. he delivers immediately. 
kisses you all the way onto the bed. kisses you while he helps you take off your heels, while he drags the zipper of your dress down. you both feel safe now, understood, and that really moves things along. 
“so pretty.” he mutters into your skin, shedding you of your tight dress. 
your shaky fingers work over the buttons of his shirt, peeling it off of his broad shoulders, taking in the sight of him all over again. you’re left in your panties, braless already, and he gawks down at you, like he’s seeing everything for the first time. it makes you feel powerful. 
“can you hurry up?” you writhe, arching into his touch. he smiles, covering his body with yours and pressing a kiss to your lips. his fingers slide over the curves of your body, finding the band of your underwear and toying with it. 
“want me to take them off?” he purrs, trailing his lips down your jaw to just below your ear. 
“now.” you beg, eyes fluttering closed as his warm breath pricks at your skin, teeth nibbling. “no marks.” you whine, flashing back to the weeks over knowing looks and attempts at covering the last one up. 
“what were we saying about manners, hm? gonna need to start hearing some ‘pleases’ and ‘thank yous’, okay, honey?” he bites down again, harder this time, and you squirm underneath him, your soft belly moulding to each dip of his abs.
his fingers dip into your panties, finding your clit amongst your wetness. you just about bite back a moan, but you can’t help but roll your hips into his hand, his fingertips gliding easily through your folds. 
“va te faire foutre.” you mutter, teeth gritting at the pleasure and his words. go fuck yourself.
“i’ve lived in monaco long enough to know what that means.” lando whispers, pinching your clit once before plunging a finger inside of you. 
you hiss, head thrown back, the feeling of him smiling against the hickey bittersweet. and to think, it was almost healed. you can’t help but keen into his touch. 
“more,” you pant. “please.”
“you learn fast.” lando approves, and quickly fulfils your request, adding another finger. 
they flex inside of you, grinding deeper and deeper until you’re whimpering his name and leaking down his wrist. your arms wrap around him, nails digging in to his smooth back, his ropey muscles tensing under your firm touch. his thumb bumps your clit, over and over, pushing you to the precipice, so close you can taste the impending orgasm on your tongue. 
“it’s so good, merci, god.” you sound wrecked already, and lando can’t wait to see how far he can push, how far apart he can take you.  
“that other fucking loser didn’t know what he had, jesus, you’re so fucking hot.” he rasps, admiring the rise and fall of your chest, how your breasts bounce with every thrust of his fingers, the way his hand is glistening in the low light of his bedroom. his words are your undoing, the awe in his voice sending sparks shooting through every nerve ending. 
“lando, ‘m gonna… putain!” the way you switch languages is sexy to him, tells him how scrambled your brain is, and he twitches in his boxers. when you cum, it’s as gorgeous and as enticing as the first time, and he jolts against your hip, desperate to get inside of you finally. 
“you’re so beautiful.” he groans, pulling his fingers from your entrance. he stares blindly at the mess you’ve made on them, salivating, remembering the way you taste. it’s a no brainer for him, and he licks both digits clean, giving you just a moment to recover. 
“i need you.” you whisper, your legs still spread, quivering slightly. 
you pull him in once more, his covered crotch grinding against your slick and you cry out, the friction sending you into overdrive. his teeth dig into your shoulder, the sensation entrapping him, leaving him weak, ready to give you whatever you ask. he pushes his underwear away, and your eyes go wide. 
“you can have me,” he grunts, running his hand over himself. “think you can take it?” he wets his lips and you think you could cum again at the sight of him. sweat slicked, tight curls falling over his eyes, lips licked pink and kiss swollen, hard and heavy in his own hand, body curved over yours possessively. you’re a simple woman, really. 
“i think i can try.” you want to sound confident, but it comes out as a squeak. 
he sits back on his knees and brings his free hand to cup your jaw. 
“i’ll go slow with you, honey, okay? you can tell me to stop.” lando promises. “you sure you want this?” 
you nod, pouting up at him. 
“i want you, i can take it.” you manage through a deep breath. 
the stretch is brutal, splitting you in half. all you can do is breathe, watching the way he watches you, and that’s what you hone in on, his pretty eyes watching where he’s filling you up. when he bottoms out, he stops for a second, scanning your face for discomfort. 
“are you okay?” 
“c’mere.” you coo, and he falls back over you, paws at your waist. “move, lando.” you plead. 
it’s slow, deep, makes your toes tingle. you can feel each and every drag of him against your walls and it makes you dizzy, a knot twisting and tickling in your belly. your fingers are twisted around him, around his biceps, crumbling a little bit every time he flexes in your grip. 
“oh, mon dieu.” you’re whimpering, legs wrapping around him like vines, tighter and tighter with every buck of his hips. 
“‘s it feel good, honey? yeah? you’re so fucking tight for me.” lando chokes, licking over the sweat on your collarbone. “‘m i making it feel good?” he sounds so cocky, sexy, but there’s a soft edge around his words. it matters to him, how he’s treating you, this, a certain delicateness hanging around your intertwined bodies like a cloud. 
“so good, lando, so fucking good.” the words scratch your throat raw, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 
“no, no, lemme hear you, pretty girl. can feel how close you are for me.” you can hear the edge to his voice, can tell the end is near for both of you, the way his words wobble despite his best attempts at hiding it. “need you to look at me, and i need to hear you.” 
you don’t even realise until then that your eyes are shut, screwed up tight as the pleasure rolls through your body, flooding each and every one of your senses. you free your lip, and everything pours out, whines, raw slurs of his name. 
“i’m so close.” he grunts, watching the way your face moves, hanging on to every micro expression, the way you battle to keep all of your attention on him. 
“fill me up.” you urge, squeezing his hips between your thighs. his eyes widen, the request slowly registering, and he blinks away the voice in his head telling him to do it. 
“you know i can’t.” he’s firm, sensible even if you aren’t. 
“want it so bad, lan, please, wanna feel it.” you reason, cupping his face and pushing his curls back. 
“not tonight.”
“yes, tonight. give it to me.”
“i said no, don’t be a fucking brat.” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. 
“know you want it.” you whisper, seductive and devious. you can see his resolve slipping, tightening around him. 
before you can say anything else, your hands are scooped up, pinned above your head. he’s right over you now, your hips perfectly aligned, and he’s driving so deep that you swear you can feel him in your tummy. his thrusts resort to a harsh grind, digging into each other with every snap of his pelvis. 
“you want it so bad? huh? fine.” he growls, forehead resting against yours. “want me to cum in you, fuck it all back in? yeah, honey? you gonna keep it all in for me?”
“whatever you want.” you promise, eyes rolling back in your head. “just- please, please do it.” you pant, mouth dry. 
“that’s it, pretty girl, take it all for me.” he buries his face in your neck, nipping at your collarbone. “doing so good.” the words fan against your throat, hushed, leaving you warm from the inside out, brainless. 
when you spill around him, it’s at the same time as he lets go, and he fucks you through your orgasms. you go limp beneath him, taking it, letting it all wash over you, letting him wash all over you. you feel like you can’t breathe, suffocating under the weight of him and the reality of what you’ve just done. again. for some reason, you don’t care, and decide that you’ll do this again and again, anytime he’ll have you. not that you’ll ever tell him that… 
“fuck.” he exhales, rolling off of you carefully, but the overstimulation - and then lack thereof - makes you wince, and he strokes your hip gently in apology. 
“that was better than i thought it would be.” you grin, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
“you know, these are starting to sound kinda backhanded.” he beams, laughing breathlessly, but just as he begins to relax into his bedspread, he remembers. “oh fuck, shit, we need a pharmacy!” lando bolts up so that he’s sitting, scanning the room blindly for his clothes. you giggle and he snaps his head towards you, panicked. 
“no, lando, we don’t.” 
“all of that ‘uh, fill me up, please lando you’re so sexy’ talk means that, yes we absolutely do! fuck, how much is plan b these days?” he’s spiralling now, tugging at his curls. 
“first of all, i’m on birth control. second of all, i don’t sound like that, and most importantly, i did not call you sexy.” you smirk, stretching out your tight muscles. 
“that’s the most important part? woman, you nearly killed me.” lando gasps, slumping back down into bed. 
“‘m sorry, couldn’t resist playing with you a little. good to know we share a kink, though.” your smirk turns into a coy smile, and you swing your shaky legs out of the bed, your feet sinking into the plush rug. 
“oh, yeah? what other kinks are you hiding from me?” lando sits back against the headboard, tucking his hands behind his bed. you have to look away, or else you’ll accidentally fall back into his bed. 
“guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” it makes him quirk an eyebrow, a look of understanding settling over his face. 
“so this is gonna be a regular thing, yeah?” 
you’re putting your underwear back on when he says it, searching for your dress, but his words make you freeze. he sounds hopeful, and it makes your chest pang… wait, is that your heart?
“i don’t… i mean, as you unfortunately know, i haven’t done this before. i don’t know how this works.” you say it so earnestly, so innocently, that his whole face softens, awestruck and boyish. 
“i want it to be a regular thing.” he says it gently, like he’s offering it to you, to the universe. 
“okay. me too.” you whisper back, shy under his gaze. 
“are you… like, do you think you’ll be sleeping with other people?” lando squeaks, doing a terrible job of playing it cool. 
“for so many reasons, no.” you grimace. “but if we’re doing this then i wouldn’t want to anyway.” you say softly. your dress is back on now, but he has you flustered, and you can’t quite get the zipper. 
“lemme help.” he offers, and he’s out of bed and before you in a matter of seconds. his calloused fingers graze your skin as he pulls the zipper together and up, adjusting your dress back into place. it feels so terrifyingly intimate, exciting, and you can’t bring yourself to move away. “i wouldn’t want to either.” he breathes the words quietly into the small space between you. 
“okay.” you don’t even try to hide the way you beam, staring up at him. 
“i’ll take you home, yeah?” 
“yeah.”
-
7.  worth it
and so, begins a clandestine affair, touches in the shadows, subtle glances, watchful eyes. 
one of you calls, the other comes, sneaking through doors that neither of you should enter, leaving bars a few minutes apart, making up excuses to get out of plans. 
there’s the time lando has you bent over the end of your bed, tears leaking into the mattress, slick everywhere. he’s so deep this way, hammering away at the special spot nestled within you that he’s become very familiar with. one of his hands is dragging your hips back to meet his thrusts, the other splayed out across your back, holding you down. 
your phone rings. it’s alex. you were supposed to be a brunch twenty minutes ago. you groan out, frustrated in every sense of the word. 
“answer it, honey.” lando grunts, pulling you towards him even harder. you whimper, shaking your head, words dying on your tongue. “go on, i know you can do it. wouldn’t want alex to worry, would you? let her know you’re okay.” he coos, condescending. 
he’s so arrogant, full of it, and you like the challenge. you can’t let him win, can’t let him revel in how fucked out he has you, so against your better judgement, you grab the phone, fingers shaking as you answer. 
“hi, love. i know, i’m late! ‘m sorry, i’ll be there soon!” you wince at the way your voice shakes. you hope she can’t hear the way you’re panting, or the sound of his hips hitting yours. 
lando slows his hips, hitting deep at such a torturously slow pace that feels a million times better than it already did. your free hand flies back, swatting at him. 
“where the hell are you? i was worried!” alex sounds relieved, but there’s something else in her tone that you can’t quite decipher. 
“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.” you lie, throwing your younger brother into the line of fire. you know, for credibility. alex is silent for a moment. 
“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” and with that, she hangs up the phone. you release a breath you were holding, crying out when lando immediately speeds up again. 
“i hate you.” you choke, grinding your hips into him. lando just scoffs, sliding a hand under your belly, flush against the mattress. he finds your clit, playing with it, urging you quickly towards your release. 
“no, you don’t.” he laughs. “you better cum for me, pretty girl, i think you have somewhere to be.” 
-
“i’m on my way, i promise! i was with arthur.”
alex has to bite back a laugh. she stares across the table, where arthur is having an avid debate with charles and joris. arthur, who had been with her and charles for hours. 
“oh, okay. well, get here soon, please! love you!” alex hangs up the phone, giggling to herself. leo stirs in her lap. 
“what’s so funny?” charles asks her. she shakes her head. 
“oh, nothing, she just overslept.” 
-
there’s the time where he has you hiked up on your kitchen counter, messy curls tickling the insides of your thighs. he’s licking at you ravenously, dragging his tongue up and down, twisting around your clit in circles. 
you’re tugging on his hair, holding him close to where you’re aching, dripping, slicking up the lower half of his face. he’s groaning into you, starved and desperate. it’s been a week since you’ve seen him, had him like this, the longest you’ve done without him since the first time you’d had sex. its untamed and needy and you fear what it means, the way you’re so addicted to one another. 
you also haven’t seen your brother for a week, something you realise when you hear a key turn in the lock, down the corridor. you have seconds to react, the noise washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water. you squirm, pushing a very confused lando away, managing to kick him lightly in the head as you leap from the counter. 
“mon dieu! fuck, i’m sorry!” you gasp. 
“what the fuck is going on-“ you cut him off, slapping your palm over his mouth. 
you glance around frantically, looking for a way out of this. there is but one option available. 
“the balcony! just- fuck, get out there!” you shoo him over to the small window, begging him with your eyes. “please! i’ll get rid of him!” 
you can hear footsteps approaching. you’re sweating now, smoothing down your skirt and your hair anxiously.
charles calls your name, rounding the corner  and walking into your kitchen, just as you pull the window closed again. 
“shit, you scared me!” you fake, clutching your chest. you can feel your heart hammering. 
“i did knock, sorry!” charles looks you over, scanning the kitchen. “are you okay?” 
“yeah, fine, sorry, i must have been out of it. i’m in the middle of an assignment.” you lie. 
“oh okay, well i can always go…” he’s looking at you weirdly, and you fear he knows something, that he can tell. 
“can we get dinner tonight? i’ll book.” you offer, scratching your neck. 
“yeah, that’s great. are you sure you’re okay?” your brother asks, turning to leave. 
“promise, yeah, i’m just so busy with work, deadlines and all that.” you wrinkle you nose, feigning distaste. 
“well you can tell me all about it later, okay? love you.” charles says sincerely, smiling. 
“love you too.” you call, listening for the sound of the door closing behind him. 
you immediately rush for the window, throwing it open, peeking your head out. lando stands with his back against the wall, shivering in nothing but a t-shirt. you look at him sheepishly. 
“get back in here.” you tell him, standing back to give him space to crawl back through. “‘m sorry.” you giggle. 
“you’re lucky you’re worth it.” lando teases, stalking towards you and wrapping you in his arms. his skin is cold against yours, and you huff, try and push him off. “hey, i’m cold!” he pouts. 
“you know, you’re lucky you’re worth it, i could have just let him murder you.” you reason, looking up at him. your hands slide around him, returning his embrace, warm hands skating up under his shirt. 
“you wouldn’t.” he says simply. “i’m way too good in bed.” 
“you keep telling yourself that, norris.” 
“i don’t need to, you tell me more than enough.” 
lando leans down to kiss you, then, nothing all that unusual but it always feels like a step too far, intimate in a way that you two usually aren’t. you kiss him back regardless, because really, you love it. he always tastes minty, divine when you let him lick into your
mouth. 
“i believe we were in the middle of something.” he whispers. 
“remind me.” you breathe. 
-
and there’s also the time where he’s fucking you in his drivers room, the massage table thudding dully against the wall with every hard thrust. 
his race suit is pulled down just enough, your dress bunched around your hips, and he’s slamming into you mercilessly.
the whole thing was a blur, really; you’d always vowed that you would never have sex at a race track, but that promise was old news, now, broken the very second you caught the way he was staring at you. his eyes were hard, unreadable, jaw clenched as he glared at the man talking to you. you were just being friendly, catching up with franco, but lando wouldn’t have it, not after such a shitty race. one harsh snap of his neck towards the mclaren motorhome had you quickly excusing yourself. you knew what it meant. 
“you don’t talk to me at the track but you let him?” lando growls, rutting into you wildly. you cling onto the damp material of his racesuit, head thrown back. 
“was just saying hello.” you gasp out, opening your eyes to look up at him. he’s staring down at you, angry. it’s hot.
“i don’t wanna see you talking to him. you see how he was looking at you? fucker should know who you belong to.” he hisses, sliding his hand between your legs. “you’re gonna cum for me when i say, okay? and you’re gonna be nice and loud, honey. no holding back.” 
“lando i’m-“
“when. i. say.” he cuts you off, punctuating each order with a snap of his hips. 
all you can do is take it, dripping all over him. you can hear it, the wet squelch of him filling you up. 
“should mark up this pretty neck, yeah? let everyone know that you already belong to someone.” 
you barely register what he’s saying, but the words leave you hot, pushing you even closer to the edge and you clamp down around him. 
“squeezing me so tight, bet you’ve wanted me all day, huh, honey? saw you looking at me earlier, pretending like you weren’t when i caught you. couldn’t just asked and i would’ve fucked you right then.” lando grunts. you wail out, thrashing against the makeshift bed and he nods, letting you know it’s okay. 
“that’s right, pretty girl, that’s it. been so good letting me have you. cum for me, baby.” 
baby.
it’s the first time he’s ever called you that. it’s the final push you need. 
he collapses into you as he finishes, sweaty curls plush against your bare shoulder. you’re both panting, spent, basking in the moment of silence.
“thank you.” he whispers, sealing it with a kiss against your neck. it tingles, a foreign feeling settling in your belly, shooting through your veins. 
“you drove really well.” you reply, quiet. his breathing halts, a self deprecating laugh filling the room. 
“don’t do that.” 
“what?” 
“act like you were watching my race. charles have a great drive, that must have been a lot more interesting.” 
“maybe, but i was watching you.” 
your words hit him hard. he can’t help but kiss you. you swallow a moan, and a whole heap of feelings that you’re too scared to tackle. 
“you better go. will i see you in brazil?” 
“yeah, lando. you will.” 
youruser just posted on instagram:
Tumblr media
tagged: francisca.cgomes
liked by: alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and others
youruser: hola chica 🤭
francisa.cgomes: my love my loveeeee
user21: once again i am asking. why are you here lando? 👀
user56: stop inventing!
alexandrasaintmleux: my beautiful girlies
user66: icon mother slay incredible
-
PART TWO IS HERE!
taglist
@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239
2K notes · View notes
motomamita · 2 months ago
Text
bestfriend!könig × female!reader
warnings: +18, smut, emotional manipulation, sex!
imagine being the only person who showed up to könig's birthday party.
it was just you and him, in his house, with a lot of drinks and food that he himself had bought to celebrate. the sound of the clock on the ceiling seemed to stun you and he remained dejected, with a half-drunk can of beer.
you knew that könig had invited more people, people who had pretended to be his friends throughout the semester to humiliate him on such an important day for him. you could see on his face how much he regretted having trusted them, and at the same time how grateful he was that at least you, his best friend, had shown up.
"come on kö, don't feel bad. we can have fun just the same, just us!"
apparently you were naive enough not to notice how weird könig was in general. he hardly talked to anyone, and when he did, he would make comments that were out of place and a bit offensive to others. but you couldn't blame him no matter how hard you tried and ignored your friends' warnings about him.
"what a shitty birthday.."
he murmured as you lit the candles on his birthday cake that you had baked especially for him.
"don't say that, come on, make a wish."
you moved his cake closer to him, letting the candlelight illuminate his masculine, scarred face and cold gaze.
"i don't think my wish will ever come true."
"what? tell me, maybe i can help you!"
upon hearing you, könig did not hesitate to tell you: he wanted to lose his damn virginity with you.
you hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what you had just heard. his eyes filled with tears that he didn’t try to hide and he looked into your eyes begging you to help him make his wish come true. what else could you do? his day was already disappointing enough without you leaving him alone with a huge erection in his pants. you had to help him.
in a matter of seconds you were lying on the table, your skirt pulled up to your waist and könig on top of you fucking you clumsily. his cock entered you roughly and without rhythm, in a very inexperienced way. some strands of his hair fell on your face and his eyes never stopped looking at you.
"you're the best friend any man could wish to have... your pussy feels so good."
könig clumsily grabbed your breasts over your clothes and pinched your nipples. you moaned in pain but didn't try to run away or push him away, you wanted his birthday to end well.
it only took a couple of deep, slow thrusts for könig to end up inside you, moaning your name and kissing your mouth and face. you hugged him by the shoulders, pulling him towards you and letting him sob with pleasure on your neck.
"this is the best birthday of my entire life."
2K notes · View notes